Виктор Мазанов – Tales of Wisdom. Insights from Russian Folklore (страница 21)
Baba Yaga, bone‑legged, hopped onto her mortar, began to chase the girl, scattering dust behind her.
Sensing danger, the girl pressed her ear to the ground, heard Baba Yaga’s approach, and threw the towel. In an instant a broad river appeared.
Baba Yaga, furious, arrived at the river and snarled with her teeth. She rode home, fetched her mighty oxen, and drove them to the river. The oxen drank the water dry. Enraged, she chased again.
The girl pressed her ear again, heard Baba Yaga near, and tossed the comb. At once a dense, dark forest sprang up. Baba Yaga tried to chew through it, but could not, and turned back.
Meanwhile the old man had already returned home and asked:
– Where is my daughter?
– She went to her aunt, – growled the step‑mother.
A short while later the girl ran home.
– Where have you been? – asked her father.
– Father! – she replied. – My step‑mother sent me to my aunt for a needle and thread to sew a shirt, and the aunt, Baba Yaga, wanted to eat me.
– How did you escape, daughter?
She told everything: the kind aunt, the advice, the frightening hut, the helpful cat and his magical gifts.
The old man, hearing the tale, became angry with his wife. His fury filled him:
– You are no longer my wife! You are cruel and heartless! You tried to kill my child! Leave my house at once! Know this: if you ever think of harming my daughter again, I will strike you down from the light! Depart immediately!
The step‑mother, trembling with fear, grabbed a bundle and fled the house like a bullet, never to return to those lands. The father and his daughter lived thereafter in peace, love, and plenty. The girl grew up kind and wise.
Key Themes for Discussion
Kindness versus Cruelty
The girl showed kindness and attention to everyone she met—the cat, the dogs, the gate, the birch, the servant—and that kindness returned to her manyfold, saving her life.
Baba Yaga and the step‑mother displayed cruelty and indifference, receiving the punishment they deserved.
Cleverness and Caution
The girl used her mind and caution, first seeking advice from her own aunt, then following the aunt’s instructions precisely in the dangerous situation.
She did not panic, used the magical items given to her, and outwitted Baba Yaga.
Justice and Protection of Family
When the father learned the truth, he immediately and decisively defended his daughter, expelling the wicked step‑mother and restoring justice.
His stern threat shows the depth of his anger and his determination to protect his family at any cost.
Discussion Questions for Children
Why did the girl go to her own aunt first instead of heading straight to Baba Yaga?
How did the girl’s good deeds (ribbon, oil, bread, ham, handkerchief) help her survive?
How was Baba Yaga punished?
Why did the father become so angry with the step‑mother?
What did the heroine learn from this story? What does the tale teach us?
Vasilisa the Beautiful
In a large town lived a merchant. For twelve years he and his wife lived in love and harmony, and they had only one daughter—Vasilisa, whom everyone called the Beautiful. When Vasilisa’s mother fell gravely ill, the girl was only eight years old. Before she passed, the mother called her daughter, took a small rag‑doll from under her pillow, handed it to Vasilisa and whispered:
– Listen, dear Vasilisa! Remember my last words. I am leaving and give you this doll. Keep it always close and never show it to anyone. If trouble comes, feed the doll a tiny crumb of bread and ask it for advice. It will eat and tell you how to help a sorrowful heart.
The mother kissed her daughter on the forehead and closed her eyes forever.
After the funeral the merchant mourned a long time, then began to think about a new wife. He was a kind and respected man, and a suitable bride would have been easy to find, but his heart was drawn to a widow. She was older, had two daughters almost the same age as Vasilisa, and seemed a capable housekeeper and mother. The merchant married her, but he made a cruel mistake: the new wife was not a kind step‑mother to Vasilisa.
Vasilisa blossomed into a girl of extraordinary beauty, and the step‑mother and her daughters—One‑eyed, Two‑eyed and Three‑eyed—were blinded by envy. They piled work on Vasilisa, hoping the hard labor would make her thin and her skin darkened by sun and wind. Vasilisa’s life turned into endless hardship.
Yet Vasilisa endured without complaint. Remarkably, each day she grew more radiant, while the step‑mother and her daughters, though idle, grew thinner and more sour. What was the secret? The little doll helped Vasilisa. Without it the girl could not have managed. Vasilisa often went hungry, but she always saved the tastiest morsel for the doll. In the evening, when everyone was asleep, she locked herself in her little room, placed the offering before the doll and whispered:
– Here, little doll, eat and listen to my sorrow! I live with my father, but I see no joy. The wicked step‑mother drives me away like an unwanted guest. Teach me how to live and what to do.
The doll “ate” the treat, then gave wise counsel and comfort. By morning all the work was done: the garden beds were weeded, the cabbage watered, water fetched, the stove stoked. The doll even suggested which herb to use to protect the face from the sun. Thus Vasilisa found solace in her magical helper.
Years passed. Vasilisa grew into a true beauty. All the city’s suitors dreamed of asking her hand, while the step‑mother’s daughters were no longer of interest. The step‑mother’s anger grew even hotter. To every suitor she declared:
– I will not give my younger daughter in marriage until the older ones are settled! – and after sending the guests away she vented her fury on Vasilisa with blows and harsh words.
One day the merchant had to travel far on business. The step‑mother immediately moved the family to an old house on the very edge of town, next to a dense, impassable forest. Deep in that forest, on a clearing, stood a hut where Baba Yaga lived. Rumor said she let no one near her and was extremely dangerous. After the move, the step‑mother constantly sent the hated step‑daughter into the forest for various errands. Yet Vasilisa always returned unharmed: the doll showed her a safe path and kept her away from the terrifying hut.
Autumn arrived. One evening the step‑mother gave each of the three girls a task: the eldest must weave lace, the middle one knit a stocking, and Vasilisa must spin yarn. She extinguished all the lights in the house, leaving only a single candle in the room where the girls sat, and went to sleep. The girls worked in the dim light. The candle began to smoke, and one of the step‑mother’s daughters grabbed a pair of tongs, supposedly to adjust the wick, but, following her mother’s suggestion, “accidentally” blew out the flame.
– What shall we do now? – the sisters cried. – There is no fire in the house and the work is unfinished! We must run to Baba Yaga for fire!
– I won’t go! – said the one who was weaving lace. – I won’t.
– Me neither! – added the one knitting the stocking. – The pins are bright enough for me!
– Then you go, Vasilisa! – they shouted in chorus, pushing her out of the room.
Vasilisa went to her little chamber, placed a dinner before the doll and said, holding back tears:
– Here, doll, eat and hear my grief: they send me to Baba Yaga for fire! She will eat me!
The doll “ate” and its eyes suddenly glowed like two tiny stars.
– Do not be afraid, dear Vasilisa! – it said gently. – Go where you are sent, but keep me always with you. With me, Baba Yaga cannot harm you.
Vasilisa calmed, slipped the doll into the pocket of her dress, crossed herself and set off into the dark, frightening forest.
Her heart hammered with fear. Suddenly a rider in white galloped past on a white horse, his harness gleaming in the early dawn. She walked on and saw another rider, this one in red on a red horse, as the sun rose and lit the woods. Vasilisa walked through night and day, and only by the next evening did she reach a clearing where Baba Yaga’s hut stood. A fence of dry, creaking branches surrounded it; on the posts hung old, cracked pumpkins with carved eyes and mouths. Instead of a door were twisted trunks, and instead of hinges, gnarled roots that looked like crooked fingers. Vasilisa froze with terror.
A third rider appeared, all in black on a raven horse. He galloped to the gate and vanished as if melted into the air—night fell. The darkness lasted only a moment: inside the pumpkins on the fence tiny lights ignited, and their grim, grinning faces glowed, casting an uneven, trembling light over the clearing. Vasilisa shivered, but there was nowhere to run.