Title of story: The Magic Brocade Once upon a time, long, long ago, there lived in a small village in the southern part of China a mother and her three sons. Since the poor woman was a widow, she had to support her growing family as the best she could. Fortunately she was very skilled at weaving fine brocade. This material was a specialty of the Chuang area where they lived and it was made of rich fabric with designs of silver, gold, and silk woven upon it. The widow was quite famous in the surrounding countryside for her brocades, as she had a special talent for making the birds and other animals and the flowers that she wove into her cloth appear lifelike. Some people even said that her flowers and animals and birds were even more beautiful than the real ones. One day the widow had to go into the market place to sell some cloth she had just finished. It took her no time at all to get rid of it, for everyone was anxious to buy her work. When she had completed her business she strolled among the stalls, looking at all the interesting objects for sale. Suddenly her glance was caught by a beautiful picture and she paused. In the painting was a marvelous white house surrounded by vast fields and grand walks which led to glorious gardens bursting with fruit and flowers. Between the stately trees in the background could be glimpsed some smaller buildings, and among the fluttering leaves flew rare brightly plumed bird of all kinds. Instantly the widow fell in love with the picture and bought it. When she got home she showed it to her three sons, who also thought it was very beautiful. “Oh,” sighed the widow, “wouldn’t it be wonderful if we lived in such a place!” The two elder sons shook their heads and laughed. “My dear mother, that’s only an idle dream,” said the eldest. “Perhaps it might happen in the next world,” agreed the second son, “but not in this one.” Only the youngest son comforted her. “Why don’t you weave a copy of the picture into a brocade?” he suggested. With a gentle smile on his face, he added, “That will be nearly a good as living in it.” This thought made the mother very happy. Right away she went out and bought all the colored silk yarns she needed. Then she set up her loom and began to weave the design of the painting into the brocade. Day and night, month after month, the mother sat at her loom weaving her silks. Though her back ached and her eyes grew strained from the exacting work, still she would not stop. She worked as if possessed. Gradually the two elder sons became annoyed. One day the eldest one said with irritation, “ Mother you weave all day but you never sell anything.” “Yes!” grumbled the second. And we have to earn money for the rice you eat by chopping wood. We are tired of all this hard work.” The youngest son didn’t want his mother to be worried. He told his brothers not to complain and promised that he would look after everything. From then on, every morning he went up the mountain by himself and chopped enough wood to take care of the whole famiy. Day after day the mother continued weaving. At night she burned pine branches to make enough light. The branches smoked so much that her eyes became sore and bloodshot. But still she would not stop. A year passed. Tears from the mother’s eyes began to drop upon the picture. She wove the crystal liquid into a bright clear river and also into a charming little fish pond. Now the tears from the mother’s eyes turned into blood and dropped like red jewels upon the cloth. Quickly wove them into a flaming sun and into brilliant red flowers. Hour after hour, without a moment’s stop, the widow went on weaving. Finally at the end of the third year, her brocade was done. The mother stepped away from her work and smiled with pride and with great happiness. There it all was: the beautiful house, the breathtaking gardens filled with exotic flowers and fruit, the brilliant birds, and beyond in the vast fields sheep and cattle grazing contently upon the grass. Suddenly a great wind from the west howled through the house. Catching up the rare brocade it sped through the door and disappeared over the hill. Frantically the mother chased after her beautiful treasure, only to see it blown high into the far sky, far beyond her reach. It flew straight towards the east and in twinkling it had completely vanished. The heartbroken mother, unable to bear such a calamity, fell into a deep faint. Carefully her three sons carried her into the house and laid her upon the bed. Hours later, after sipping some ginger broth, the widow slowly came to herself. “My son,” she implored her eldest, “go to the east and find my brocade for me. It means more to me than life.” The boy nodded and quickly set out on his journey. After traveling eastward for more than a month, he came to a mountain pas where an old white haired woman sat in front of a stone house. Beside her stood a handsome stone horse which looked as though it longed to eat the red fruit off the pretty tree that grew next to it. As the eldest boy passed by, the old lady stopped him. “Why are you going, young man?” she asked. “East,” he said, and told her the story of the brocade. “Ah!” she said, “the brocade your mother wove has been carried away by the fairies of the Sun Mountain because it was so beautifully made. They are going to copy it.” “But, tell me, how can I recover it?” begged the boy. “That will be very difficult,” said the old woman. “First, you have to knock out two of your front teeth and put them into the mouth of my stone horse. Then he will be able to move and to eat the red fruit hanging from this tree. When he has eaten ten pieces, then you can mount him. He will take you directly to the Sun Mountain. But first you will have to pass through the Flame Mountain which burns with a continuous fierceness.” “Here the old lady offered a warning. “You must not utter a word of complaint, for if you do you will instantly be burned to ashes. When you have arrived at the other side, you must then cross an icy sea.” With a grave nod she whispered, “And if you give the slightest shudder, you will immediately sink to the bottom.” After hearing all this, the eldest son felt his jaw and thought anxiously of the burning fire and lashing sea waves. He went white as a ghost. The old woman looked at him and laughed. “You won’t be able to stand it, I can see,” she said. Don’t go. I’ll give you a small iron box full of gold. Take it and live comfortably. “ She fetched the box of gold from the stone house and gave it to the boy. He took it happily and went away. On his way home he began thinking about all the money he now had. “This gold will enable me to live very well. If I take it home, I will have to share it. Spending it all on myself will be much more fun than spending it on four people.” He decided right then and there not to go home and turned instead to the path which led to a big city. At home the poor mother waited two months for her eldest son to return, but he did not come back. Gradually her illness got worse. At length she sent her second son to bring the brocade back. When the boy reached the mountain pass he came upon the old woman at the stone house, who told him the same things she had told his older brother. As he learned all that he must do in order to obtain the brocade, he became frightened and his face paled. Laughing, the woman offered him a box of gold, just as she had his brother. Greatly relieved, the boy took it and went on his way, deciding also to head for the city instead of returning home. After waiting and waiting for the second son to return home, the widow became desperately ill. At last she turned blind from weeping. Still neither her sons ever came back. The youngest son, beside himself with worry, begged his mother to let him go in search of the brocade. “I’ll bring it back to you, mother, I promise.” Faint with exhaustion and despair, the widow nodded weakly. Traveling swiftly, the youngest son took only half a month to arrive at the mountain pass. There he met the old woman in front of the stone house. She told him exactly the same things that she had told his two brothers, but added, “My son, your brothers each went away with a box of gold You may have one, too. “ With steady firmness the boy refused. “I shall not let these difficulties stop me, he declared. “I am going to bring back the brocade that took my mother three years to weave.” Instantly he knocked two teeth out of his mouth and put them into the mouth of the handsome stone horse. The stone horse came alive and went to the tall green tree and ate ten pieces of red fruit hanging from its branches. As soon as it had done this, the horse lifted its elegant head, tossed its silver mane, and neighed. Quickly the boy mounted its back, and together they galloped off toward the east. After three days and nights the young son came to Flame Mountain. On every side fires spat forth wildly. The boy stared for a moment at the terrifying sight, then spurring his horse he dashed courageously up the flaming mountain, enduring the ferocious heat without once uttering a sound. Once on the other side of the mountain, he came to a vast sea. Great waves frosted with chunks of ice crashed upon him as he made his way painfully across the freezing water. Though cold and aching, he held the horse’s mane tightly, persisting in his journey without allowing himself to shudder. Emerging on the opposite shore, he saw at once the Sun Mountain. Warm light flooded the air and flowers blossomed everywhere. On top of the mountain stood a marvelous place and from it he could hear sounds of girlish laughter and singing. Quickly the boy tapped his horse. It reared up and flew with the great speed to the door of the palace. The boy got don and entered the front hall. There he found one hundred beautiful fairies, each sitting at a loom and weaving a copy of his mother’s brocade. The fairies were all very surprised to see him. One came forth at last and spoke. “We shall finish our weaving tonight and you may have your mother’s brocade tomorrow. Will it please you to wait here for the night?” “Yes,” said the son. He sat down, prepared to wait forever if necessary for his mother’s treasure. Several fairies graciously attended him, bringing delicious fruit to refresh him. Instantly all his fatigue disappeared. When dusk fell, the fairies hung from the center of the ceiling an enormous pearl which shone so brilliantly it lit the entire room. Then, while they went on weaving, the youngest son went to sleep. One fairy finally finished her brocade, but it was not nearly as well done as the one the widow had made. The sad fairy felt she could not part with the widow’s brocade and longed to live in that beautiful human world, so she embroidered a picture of herself on the original work. When the young son woke up just before daylight, the fairies had all gone, leaving his mother’s cloth under the shining pearl Not waiting for daybreak the boy quickly clasped it to his chest and, mounting his horse, galloped off in the waning moonlight. Bending low upon the stallion’s flowing mane and clamping his mouth tightly shut, he passed again through the icy sea and up and down the flaming mountain. Soon he reached the mountain pass where the old woman stood waiting for him in front of her stone house. Smiling warmly, she greeted him. “Young man, I see you have come back.” “Yes old woman.” After he dismounted, the woman took his teeth from the horse and put them back into his mouth. Instantly the horse turned back to stone. Then she went inside the house and returned with a pair of deerskin shoes. “Take these,” she said, “they will help you get home.” When the boy put them on he found he could move as though he had wings. In a moment he was back in his own house. He entered his mother’s room and unrolled the brocade. It gleamed so brightly that the widow gasped and opened her eyes, finding her sight entirely restored. Instantly cured of all illness, she rose from her bed. Together she and her son took the precious work outside to see it in the bright light. As they unrolled it, a strange, fragrant breeze sprang up and blew upon the brocade, drawing it out longer and longer and wider and wider until at last it covered all the land in sight. Suddenly the silken threads trembled and the picture burst into life. Scarlet flowers waved in the soft wind. Animals stirred and grazed upon the tender grasses of the vast fields. Golden birds darted in and out of the handsome trees and aout the grand white house that commanded the landscape. It was all exactly as the mother had woven it, except that now there was a beautiful girl in red standing by the fish pond. It was the fairy who had embroidered herself into the brocade. The kind widow, thrilled with her good fortune, went out among the poor neighbors and asked them to come to live with her on her new land, and share the abundance of her fields and gardens. It will not surprise you to learn that the youngest son married the beautiful fairy girl and that they lived together very happily for many, many years. One day two beggers walked slowly down the road. They were the two elder sons of the widow, and it was clear from their appearance that they had long ago squandered al the gold they had. Astonished to see such a beautiful place, they decided to stop and beg something from the owner. But when they looked across the field, they suddenly recognized that the people happily picnicking by the pretty stream were none other than their very own mother and brother---and a beautiful lady who must be their brother’s wife. Blushing with shame, they quickly picked up their begging sticks and crept silently away. This story is from China Pictures of Brocade: https://google/search?q=Brocade&biw=1366&bih=611&tbm=isch&source=lnms&sa=X&ei=XHbBVLrEHc2fyASNoIII&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAg Fun Facts about Brocade: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brocade
Posted on: Thu, 22 Jan 2015 22:19:09 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015