MYTH*ING LINKS
An Annotated & Illustrated Collection of Worldwide Links to Mythologies,
Fairy Tales & Folklore, Sacred Arts & Sacred Traditions
by Kathleen Jenks, Ph.D.

RUSSIAN FOLKLORE

The Stone Flower
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Re-told by Kathleen Jenks, Ph.D.

Tradestone International
...Katya decided to stop visiting Danila after that, hoping he might miss her and come to her home. Weeks passed. Her mother noticed that Katya had become sad and pensive. "What's wrong, little one?" she asked.

"Nothing," Katya said.

From outside she heard her name being called by a group of village maidens. "Katya, Katya! -- we're going up to the forest! -- come with us!" Grateful for a diversion, Katya accompanied them up to the birch forests on the far side of the village pastures. Being with friends lightened Katya's spirits. The maidens filled the forest with laughter as they garlanded one another's heads with flowers and braids of birch leaves, and then roamed, singing, among the shining white trunks of the forest.

After awhile, Katya wandered off from the others. She was humming to herself, dreaming, when she saw a large, elegant white flower growing in the shade of a clump of tall birches. Awed, she drew in her breath. A thin sound floated through the birch grove, a sound like the wind, and suddenly she recognized it as the sound of Danila's flute. She was startled. Usually he pastured his flock at some distance from this place. She listened again, and slowly smiled. Hardly aware of what she was doing, Katya plucked the flower and walked towards the music.

By T. Smirnova / Tradestone International

Danila sensed Katya's presence even before she left the shadows of the trees. He stopped piping and turned to face her. He had missed her very much. She saw his eyes light up and her heart skipped a beat. Finally! she thought, finally! Smiling, without a word, she held out the flower. Then, suddenly shy, she fled back into the birch trees and vanished.

Danila was transfixed by the flower's beauty. He had never seen such a blossom before. He ran his fingers over the pale, smooth petals, feeling their coolness, their clean lines. If only I could carve something like this in stone! he thought.

That evening Danila worked like one possessed, determined to find a way to capture the flower's beauty in stone. He memorized every vein and curve of the petals, their lilt and slope. When Katya returned to the pasture a few days later, hoping again to see the light in his eyes, he was nowhere to be found. Instead, a young neighbor's boy watched the flock.

"Where's Danila?" she asked.

"Working," the child said.

She went to Prokopitch's cottage, peering through the window, and saw Danila attacking a piece of stone with his chisels, sending stone chips flying in every direction. Nearby in a pitcher of water stood the flower she had given him. "What have I done?" she wondered miserably, and turned away.

For many weeks Danila worked on his stone flower. Summer came and went and he continued to work. He thought of nothing else. Prokopitch tried to reason with him but Danila paid no attention.

Author's Collection
...Autumn arrived and Katya wandered alone up in the pastures and along the streams. Once she thought she saw the lizard watching her, only it suddenly turned into a dark, shimmering woman who laughed at her and then vanished into the falling golden leaves. Katya shook her head, fearful that her heartbreak might lead to madness.

By Malkov / Russian Sunbirds

In the early winter Danila finally finished the stone flower. The whole village agreed that it was beautiful. No one had ever seen a better one. But Danila was dissatisfied. The work was cleverly crafted, but lifeless. It looked like stone, not like living petals. He fell into a deep depression. Alarmed, Prokopitch sent for Katya and begged her to help.

She called on Danila the following day and was relieved that at least a glimmer of light entered his eyes when he saw her.  She sat across from him at the worktable. "We must talk," she said, "but first will you play your pipe for me?"

He protested but she insisted and finally he gave in. The music caught his spirit anew and he felt gently brushed by its joy for the first time in many months. He looked at Katya across the table, his eyes filling with tears. Never had she looked so beautiful to him. How could he not have known he was in love with her! How could he have wasted his time trying to carve something in stone that belonged only in the frail tissues of life? He hated himself for his blindness, his foolishness. How fortunate that Katya was still patient with him! He put down his flute.

"Will you marry me, Katya?" he whispered.

Russian Sunbirds
...Fresh snow fell gently on the day of their wedding and the whole village was there to celebrate. After the solemnities, there was feasting and dancing lasting far into the evening. Katya glowed with happiness, but a curious restlessness began growing in Danila. He moved aound the room and finally joined a small group of men seated around the village elder. This withered old man was telling stories about the Mistress of Copper Mountain, whose underground kingdom, he said, was filled with jewels and shining flowers made of stone.

Danila stared at the man's ancient face. "I never heard of her before -- where is she to be found?" he finally asked.

"High up in the mountains," the man said, looking at Danila with a strange half-smile, "where no one ever goes.  It's just a story, of course." The other men laughed, emptied their glasses, called for more, and no one noticed when Danila slipped out of the house.

He went back to Prokopitch's cottage and stared at his stone flower in the moonlight on his worktable. It seemed to taunt him, mocking him for his lack of skill. Danila picked up a mallet and smashed the flower into tiny pieces. Then, determined to find the Malachite Lady or perish in the attempt, he ran out into the snowy night and headed for the mountains.

Tradestone International

He walked for days. At first he felt neither hunger nor cold. Once, hearing a rustling in the pines behind him, he glanced back and thought he glimpsed a dark-haired woman in rainbow robes following him. He blinked in surprise -- and she vanished. When the pines rustled again, his sharp eyes caught sight of a lizard jumping from one bough to another. My eyes are playing tricks on me, he thought -- first a beautiful woman, then a summer lizard!

After many days Danila found himself in a high mountain pass facing a towering expanse of solid rock. Cold, hunger, and exhaustion swept through him. He could not go forward, nor did he have the strength to go back. Despairing, he sank to the ground and put his head in his hands. "I've been a fool," he muttered. "And now I've lost everything -- Katya, my life, my work. I've lost it all."

A sound like the tinkling of crystal bells came to his ears. I'm dying, he thought, and buried his head more deeply in his hands. The tinkling continued, growing louder, then turned into laughter. Startled, Danila looked up and again saw the dark-haired woman in rainbow robes. "You!" he breathed in awe. Lost memories unexpectedly flooded into his mind and Danila realized he had been dreaming of her ever since childhood.

"Yes, I've always been near you," she was laughing again, the sound of tiny temple bells blowing in the wind. "I've been waiting for you for a long time." She seemed to blur for a moment, turning into a woman as tall as the pines, watching him serenely, her embroidered garments as green as malachite. Shapeshifting again, she became human sized, dressed in flowing garments the color of rubies and carnelians. Her face changed, darkened, and the robes were lapis lazuli, amethyst, shimmering, then fading, until Danila was amazed to see nothing but a small lizard, staring boldly, while tinkling laughter rang all around them.

Author's Collection
...He reached out to touch the tiny creature, but it vanished in a flash, leaving the dark-haired woman in robes of many hues.  In her hand was a birch wand, new green leaves sprouting from its tip. She waved it towards the wall of solid rock and the wall began to move, one side sliding out from another, revealing steps cut into the rock, leading down into the depths of the mountain. "Come," she ordered.

Heart pounding, Danila followed. The mountain-goddess guided him through caverns, each one more beautiful than the last. Their walls shone with outcroppings of gems, and more jewels covered the ground. One cavern had a ceiling so low that Danila could barely stand upright -- the amethyst walls were lit from by an unseen light source and he felt as if he and the Mistress of Copper Mountain were held for a moment in the jewel's heart. She touched his brow briefly, and rivers of fire wakened throughout his body. Then she moved on, calling him to follow her into a cavern whose ceiling stretched so far up into the shadows that he could not even see where it ended. She sat on a stone bench and gestured for him to join her. Scooping up a handful of precious gems from the floor, she tempted him with them. "All these can be yours," she smiled.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm not looking for wealth."

Again she touched his brow. "What then?" she asked.

Tradestone International
..."The Stone Flower," he replied. "I want you to teach me how to carve the stone into something so wondrous that it seems like living tissue."

She rose to her feet. "Come then," she said, pleased.

It seemed to Danila that they walked forever through caves of dazzling light before they finally reached one filled with stone flowers, small and large, of many colors, blossoming from the walls and ground. He had never seen anything so beautiful. Shall I ever be able to master this art? he wondered.

"Not even I can answer that," she murmured, reading his thoughts. They went down more steps and finally entered a cave with a great uncut piece of translucent green stone thrusting straight up out of the ground to a height twice Danila's own size. Danila stared in wonder.

"This is your Stone Flower," she said quietly. "It's been waiting for you for a very long time. Your tools are there at its foot." She turned to leave.

"B-b-ut," he stammered. "I don't yet know the secret. Forgive me, Holy Lady, but I'd hoped you'd teach me this."

She laughed, her form blurring and shifting until she stood as tall as a great pine. "You've always known the secret, Danila. Listen to the music inside the stone just as you listened to it inside the wood when you carved your flute. Don't force it to become what you want. Listen to what the stone wants." Then she vanished.

By Rogatov / Tradestone International
...With a mixture of fear and exhilaration, Danila went to the great stone and leaned his cheek against it, rubbing his hands over it in a caress. He heard nothing. He sat down with his back against the stone, trying to breathe its patterns into his own body. Exhausted, he finally curled up beside it and slept. When he awoke, he discovered warm bread, fresh berries, and a flask of mountain water standing nearby. Ravenous, he ate and drank, then slept again. Finally, rested, he again leaned his face against the stone, embracing it with his arms, staying in that position for hours, listening, listening, and, slowly, hearing.

Only after many days did he finally begin carving, only when the stone's music had melted into him, becoming part of him. Only then did he truly know that the stone was inviting him to carve it into the flower that had long sung, invisibly, deep within the mineral's heart. . . . . . . .

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