The Blue Birches

I will tell you a beautiful story, written by Marta Cozmin.

Birches, by Bogdan Vasile

ONCE WERE TWO PEOPLE who had a house full of children. And they would live as they had lived, if it wasn't a big and restlessness hill near them. Do not know how it happens, but always the hill has come over them. People took their children and the house and moved on. But did not take long, and the hill came again over them.

The man was mad, sometimes angry, then started work again and filled his heart with laughter. Wife, however, and perhaps she was tired by the knotty infants started to dry at heart and became increasingly upset.

One evening, after they put the children to sleep, the man said:

- I keep thinking about your mom! What is her secret? It's old as the moon, but her soul remained full of sunshine and glow.

- She lived a cozy and nice life, without troubles, the woman replied in sorrow. That's her only secret.

Eldest child was not yet asleep, because she wanted very much to resemble the sun-hearted grandmother, so she decided that, at dawn, to run to her and learn the truth.

Grandma was a ranger's wife and now lived alone in her wooden house in the forest. She took care of her bees when she saw her eldest niece.

- Honey, how come is only you, without brothers or sisters? Grandma wonders.

- Can you undo a mystery to me, whispered the little girl and told her the story she heard the day before.

The old woman listens with a smile, then gave her a piece of pie.

- Come on slightly through the forest and I'll tell! You see, my little girl, so there are some people: they always hear something singing. With me it happened: the grass sang to me, the spring sang to me, the forest too. But no one's life pass without trouble and sorrow. Your mother no longer remembers that before I have her, I lost three sons, nor that our household burned into the ground. She does not understand how much I'm missing your grandfather, since I am being without him. But your father understood a little bit: there is a mystery.

- Tell me, Grandma, the little girl pleaded.

- I will try. Long ago, when my son died at first, I was hopelessly in forest thicket. All around me the birds were silent, the leaves were silent, silent spring, just my tears were heard under the birches. Wandering around I ended up in a distant grove. At one end, a deer, fur sprinkled with gold stars moaned. It had the ankle caught in a trap. I was sorry for her, I unloked the trap and guess what? The deer was turned into a beautiful maiden with rusted curls. "I am the Queen of the forest," she said. "And because you saved my life, I'll make my own good. How many times will happen to come in the grove and bitter cry, your tears will raise a birch trunk with blue leaves, and you will return home with a clear conscience. "

It has been many years since. Maybe in that awfull hour I just thought I saw a princess instead a deer. Perhaps my life has really been missing out on real pain.

Grandma was silent and her face looked like it was made by light.

Walking quietly together they arrived in a place where the little girl has never been before. In front of them, down in the valley, whispering, dazzling and charming, it was a forest of blue birches!