The Little Drummer Boy – Storytelling for Everyone

Modern Christmas Legend

According to legend, there was once a young boy who was sound asleep. A sudden noise woke him and he was startled to find a parade right outside his house. As a child, this young boy, Zach, was fascinated with parades and always wanted to be a part of them.

He would often dream about dressing up and marching with others in the parade while playing the drum. Zach’s parents gifted him with a drum set for his birthday, and seeing the parade taking place outside his house, Zach realized that it was his only chance to get out, play the drums and be a part of the colorful gala.

He was stunned to see that the people who were parading outside were not ordinary men and women. They looked like wealthy people who were sitting on camels and were richly dressed. There were servants who led these camels, and Zach believed that this parade was headed towards a palace.

Therefore, like any other inquisitive boy, Zack slipped out of his house, making sure not to awaken his parents and took his drum with him. Once he crept out of the door, he began playing the drums as he got in line with the parade, somewhere behind the last camel.

Little did Zack know that the parade was actually headed towards Bethlehem, towards a shed where a baby boy was born.

The people knew right away that the newborn baby was special because there was a single star that shone brightly in the sky above. All the wise men on the camels and the shepherds who were part of the parade carried princely gifts with them. Little Zack had nothing with him, but his drum. Zack noticed that the even the poorest widow at the shed had something to present to the newborn.

After all the other onlookers left, the little drummer boy stood alone in the shed, his presence unnoticed. He was disappointed at not having a single gift with him. Without knowing what to do next, he began playing his drum, slow at first and then louder.

Legend states that Baby Jesus responded to the sound, turned his head towards the drummer boy and smiled; the first response to any gift presented to him on this special day.

The drummer boy was no longer sad, as he believed that he presented Baby Jesus with the greatest gift of all, the gift of love.

The Little Drummer Boy Christmas Song

A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum pum

Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum

To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum,

rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,

So to honor Him, pa rum pum pum pum,

When we come.

Little Baby, pa rum pum pum pum

I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum pum

I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum

That’s fit to give the King, pa rum pum pum pum,

rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,

Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum,

on my drum?

Mary nodded, pa rum pum pum pum

The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pum pum pum

I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum pum

I played my best for Him, pa rum pum pum pum,

rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,

Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum

Me and my drum.

The legend of the Drummer Boy is a popular song and marks the significance of the greatest gift one can present to another during Christmas: one’s unique gift of love.

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Source: http://www.indobase.com/holidays/christmas/legends/legend-of-the-drummer-boy.html

Jade Rabbit – Storytelling for Everyone

Chinese Legend

Cute, fluffy, and white, the Jade Rabbit is no ordinary bunny. Calling the moon its home, the Jade Rabbit is a mystical and enchanting East Asian legend. When the bunny isn’t busy making immortality elixirs, it keeps the beautiful goddess Chang’e company in the Moon Palace.

In East Asia, the Jade Rabbit is a widespread cultural symbol, and the various legends associated with this Eastern bunny differ from country to country. This is how one Chinese legend, an ancient Buddhist story, goes:

The Jade Emperor disguised himself into a poor, starving old man and begged for food from monkey, otter, jackal, and rabbit. Monkey gathered fruit from the trees, and otter gathered fish from the river. Jackal stole a lizard and a pot of milk curds.

Rabbit though, could only gather grass. Knowing well enough that grass can’t be offered as food to humans, rabbit decided to offer its own body, sacrificing itself in the fire the man had started. Somehow, though, rabbit wasn’t burned.

The old man suddenly revealed himself to be the great Jade Emperor! Touched deeply by rabbit’s selfless sacrifice, he sent it to the moon to become the immortal Jade Rabbit. There, it finds the Jade Rabbit busy at work—pounding herbal medicine into magical elixir with its mortar and pestle.

It is said that if you look up at the moon, you can see an outline of the Jade Rabbit pounding with a pestle. More than just cute, fluffy, and white, the Jade Rabbit is a sign of selflessness, piety, and sacrifice.

Maybe that’s why the Jade Rabbit is on the moon—so that no matter where we are on Earth, we always have the bright symbol of righteousness and self-sacrifice to look up to.

The next time you look up at the moon, recall the Jade Rabbit who has nothing to give but himself—for others.

_________________

Source:

https://www.shenyunperformingarts.org/explore/view/article/e/9g-WPxuH_YU/white-jade-rabbit-goddess-of-the-moon

Note: Ancient China was a land where gods and mortals lived in tandem and created a divinely inspired culture. And so it was that early Chinese history and mythology are wholly intertwined. Our new “Mythistory” series introduces you to the main characters of the marvelous legends of China.

Author adminPosted on January 25, 2023January 25, 2023Categories Animal, Fables, Legends, Myth, NatureTags Asian, Buddhism, East Asian, moon, rabbit, sacrifice

Ganymede the Cupbearer – Storytelling for Everyone

Greek Myth

Ganymede (or Ganymedes) was a young man from Troy. His beauty was unparalleled and for that reason, Zeus abducted and brought him to Olympus to serve as his cupbearer and lover. Ganymede’s myth is an important step in the history of homosexuality.

Who Was Ganymede?

“… godlike Ganymedes that was born the fairest of mortal men”

Homer Iliad 20.199

Ganymede’s myth was especially popular amongst the Greeks and the Romans. The first recorded mention of Ganymede is found in Homer’s Iliad dating back to the 8th century BCE. Other notable sources include Hesiod, Pindar, Euripides, Apollodorus, Virgil, and Ovid.

According to Homer, Pindar, and Apollodorus, Ganymede was the son of Tros and Callirhoe. However, Euripides and Cicero, wrote that he was the son of Laomedon while there are other later mentions that he was the son of Ilus. This is not the only disagreement amongst the ancient sources.

The ancient writers seem to have adopted varying traditions of Ganymede’s myth which was a quite common phenomenon with Greek Mythology. It seems that the Greeks enjoyed retelling myths with slightly altered storylines, a practice that propelled the creative spirit that was expressed through ancient theatre.

Ganymede was an oxherd from the city of Troy and, although none of the sources mentions his age, we are consistently told that he was beautiful and young. His beauty apparently was so great, so “godlike” (in Greek, antitheos) as Homer and Hesiod put it, that even the gods themselves could not resist him.

The Abduction of Ganymede

In particular, Zeus, the usual suspect of almost every Greek myth related to seduction and rape, decided that Ganymede was too perfect to walk the earth.

Zeus transformed himself into or sent an eagle and abducted the unsuspected Ganymede who was brought to Olympus. There, he was welcomed by Zeus who presented him with an unprecedented offer, to become his cupbearer; that is to pour the divine drink called nectar, into Zeus’ and the other gods’ cups. Zeus also offered to make Ganymede an immortal, blessed with eternal youth, serving in the banquets of the gods forever.

The Gift Of Zeus

Ganymede disappeared from earth abducted by an eagle, without warning or trace. His parents must have been terribly worried. According to the Homeric Hymn To Aphrodite:

“But grief that could not be soothed filled the heart of Tros; for he knew not whither the heaven-sent whirlwind had caught up his dear son, so that he mourned him always, unceasingly, until Zeus pitied him and gave him high-stepping horses such as carry the immortals as recompense for his son. These he gave him as a gift. And at the command of Zeus, the Guide, the slayer of Argus, told him all, and how his son would be deathless and unageing, even as the gods.”

According to the Hymn, Zeus took care to let Ganymede’s father know that his son was now walking among the gods blessed with the gift of immortality. Still, the god understood that he had to offer something to compensate for taking the son away from the family.

Although the above excerpt, mentioned that Zeus gave Ganymede’s father two horses of incomparable beauty, other sources mention a golden vine. Besides, the gift is in some versions presented by Zeus himself and in others by Hermes.

In any case, Zeus ensured that the father would be happy with the arrangement, even though it is unimaginable that anyone would happily trade their son for two horses or a golden vine. Yet, then again, this is a neglectable detail within the context of a story where an eagle abducts a boy to a neverland on top of a mountain where no one ever grows old.

Hera Is Jealous

Although Zeus is well-known for his multiple affairs, Ganymede is a unique case. There are not many amongst Zeus’ lovers who were chosen to live on Olympus amongst the immortals. In fact, according to Xenophon’s Symposium, Ganymede was the only one of Zeus’ lovers to be ever granted immortality.

Ganymede’s ascension did not please everyone. Ovid writes that Ganymede came to Olympus “against Juno’s (Hera’s) will.”

The previous cupbearer of the gods was Hebe, Hera’s daughter. Now Ganymede was not simply replacing Hebe, but, as Nonnus – the Roman author of Dionnysaica – wrote, he was offending the goddess by pouring Nectar with human hands.

But there is more. Zeus did not only abduct Ganymede to serve as a simple cupbearer. The Greek sources are not really clear on this point. But they nonetheless imply that Ganymede was abducted by Zeus to serve as his cupbearer and lover. In later Roman sources, Ganymede is explicitly presented as Zeus’ erotic partner.

Hera’s anger is also described in more detail:

“There Hera sat, looking furious even upon the shield, and showing in her mien how jealousy filled her soul; for she was pointing a finger at the boy, to show goddess Pallas who sat next her how a boy Ganymedes walked among the stars to pour out their wine, the sweet nectar of Olympos, and there he was handing the cups which were the lot of virgin Hebe.” Nonus Dionysaica 25.439

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Source: https://www.thecollector.com/ganymede-myth/

The Legend of La Llorona – Storytelling for Everyone

The legend of La Llorona, Spanish for the Weeping Woman, has been a part of Latinx culture in the Southwest since the days of the conquistadores. The tale is so commonly told that every community has their own version of the story. But one thing stays the same—listeners always believe La Llorona is local, and storytellers always seem to know someone who has either heard or seen the undead mother. 

Though the tales vary from source to source, the one common thread is that the Weeping Woman is the spirit is of a doomed mother who drowned her children and now spends eternity searching for them in rivers and lakes.

The tall, thin spirit is said to be blessed with natural beauty and long flowing black hair. Wearing a white gown, she roams the rivers and creeks, wailing into the night and searching for children to drag, screaming to a watery grave.

La Llorona, named “Maria,” was born to a peasant family in a humble village. Her startling beauty captured the attention of both the rich and the poor men of the area. She was said to have spent her days in her humble surroundings, but in the evenings, she would don her best white gown and thrill the men who admired her in the local fandangos.

The young men anxiously waited for her arrival and she reveled in the attention that she received. However, La Llorona had two small sons who made it difficult for her to spend her evenings out, and often, she left them alone while she cavorted with the gentlemen during the evenings. One day the two small boys were found drowned in the river. Some say they drowned through her neglect, but others say that they may have died by her own hand.

Another legend says that La Llorona was a caring woman full of life and love, who married a wealthy man who lavished her with gifts and attention. However, after she bore him two sons, he began to change, returning to a life of womanizing and alcohol, often leaving her for months at a time. 

He seemingly no longer cared for the beautiful Maria, even talking about leaving her to marry a woman of his own wealthy class. When he did return home, it was only to visit his children and the devastated Maria began to feel resentment toward the boys.

One evening, as Maria was strolling with her two children on a shady pathway near the river, her husband came by in a carriage with an elegant lady beside him. He stopped and spoke to his children, but ignored Maria, and then drove the carriage down the road without looking back.

After seeing this, Maria went into a terrible rage, and turning against her children, she seized them and threw them into the river. As they disappeared downstream, she realized what she had done and ran down the bank to save them, but it was too late. Maria broke down into inconsolable grief, running down the streets screaming and wailing, “Donde estan mis hijos? Where are my children?”

The beautiful La Llorona mourned them day and night. During this time, she would not eat and walked along the river in her white gown searching for her boys — hoping they would come back to her. She cried endlessly as she roamed the riverbanks and her gown became soiled and torn. When she continued to refuse to eat, she grew thinner and appeared taller until she looked like a walking skeleton. Still a young woman, she finally died on the banks of the river.

Not long after her death, her restless spirit began to appear, walking the banks of the river when darkness fell. Her weeping and wailing became a curse of the night and people began to be afraid to go out after dark.

She was said to have been seen drifting between the trees along the shoreline or floating on the current with her long white gown spread out upon the waters. 

On many a dark night, people would see her walking along the riverbank and crying for her children. And so, they no longer spoke of her as Maria, but rather, La Llorona, the weeping woman. Children are warned not to go out in the dark, for La Llorona might snatch them, throwing them to their deaths in the flowing waters.

Source: Fuller, Amy. “The Wailing Woman,” History Today. (October 31, 2017)
https://www.historytoday.com/miscellanies/wailing-woman

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Grandmother Spider – Storytelling for Everyone

Native American Creation Myth

Art by Susan Seddon Boulet

Earth Day brings awareness of the precious connections of all life and to our planet. Native Americans have long known that survival depends on our treating all sentient beings with the deepest respect of kinship. Now, as so much on Earth hangs in the balance, with the crises and disasters brought on by climate change, let us learn from the powerful, age-old myths of Grandmother Spider.

Earth Goddess

Spider Woman, also known as Grandmother Spider, is a creation goddess in many Native American cultures. Throughout the Americas, she is found among the Maya, Pueblo, Hopi, and Navajo mythology, even among the pre-historic “mound builders” in the Mississippian cultures. There is evidence that the earliest Spider Woman was worshipped by the Maya, where she was named the Earth Mother.

And so, traditional stories about Spider Grandmother were passed down by word of mouth through countless generations—in some of these tales she is referred to as Earth Goddess.

“The spider woman is the wisdom keeper, the grandmother figure, the female figure.”

Hopi artist Michael Kabotie

The Hopi believe that she thought the universe into existence; the Navajo taught that she was the savior of human kind. The Cherokee say she brought light to the people. No matter, the elements remain the same: Grandmother Spider is a mother to humankind, protecting and nurturing us, guiding us along our paths.

Creative Powers

The Spider Woman appears as a wise, old woman who guides people to wisdom and knowledge, often as a powerful teacher and helper. The Hopis speak of a Spider Grandmother who, weaving her webs, thought the world itself into existence.

In these Native American myths, Spider Woman is the Creator of all things, also known as Thought Woman. She is the stillness, the creative energy before it takes shapes or form. She is all-powerful, a power beyond all imagination.

She is the sharpest, most focused thought, the clearest vision, the one with power unimaginable.

One myth tells of the Web of Creation. It speaks of the strands that are interwoven and connect everything in one matrix. When one part of the web is touched, because everything is linked together so intricately, the touch at one end of the web is felt and affects the web all the way to the other end. Nothing exists by itself, unconnected on its own. Everything is part of Grandmother Spider’s Web of Creation.

Four Worlds

Another Hopi myth says that Tawa (sun spirit) created insect-like beings and placed them in the First World. Dissatisfied with these creatures, Tawa sent Spider Woman to lead them, first to the Second World, and then to the Third World, where they turned into people. Spider Woman taught the people how to plant, weave, and make pottery. A hummingbird gave them fire to help them warm themselves and cook their food.

However, when sorcerers brought evil to the Third World, Spider Woman told the people to leave for the Fourth World. They planted trees to climb up to the Fourth World, but none grew tall enough. Finally, Spider Woman told them to sing to a one tree so that it would grow very tall. She led the people up the stalk to the Fourth World, the one in which the Hopi currently live.

Earth Day 2021

Are we now entering a Fifth World? The fast paced, technological age of our global community has immense promise and daunting challenges—the greatest being climate change. Could it be that the World Wide Web is Spider Woman’s latest appearance?

Certainly she is becoming more visible in our awareness of the interdependency of all life and all peoples. In Pueblo mythology, Spider Woman is called Tse Che Nako or Thought Woman who creates the world with what she imagines, the stories she tells about the world. 

We also possess this imaginative power: We are the storytellers.

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Sources:

http://www.laurenraine.com/spider-woman.html

https://www.amnh.org/exhibitions/totems-to-turquoise/native-american-cosmology/the-spider-woman

Classic Geek Gal: The Grandmother Spider Woman

https://www.tirzaschaefer.com/grandmotherspider

Spider Woman

http://www.mythencyclopedia.com/Sp-Tl/Spider-Woman.html#ixzz6saiBnjBO

Legend of Babushka – Storytelling for Everyone

A Russian Folktale

It was the night the dear Christ-Child came to Bethlehem. In a country far away from Him, an old, old woman named Babushka sat in her snug little house by her warm fire. The wind was drifting the snow outside and howling down the chimney, but it only made Babushka’s fire burn more brightly.

“How glad I am that I may stay indoors,” said Babushka, holding her hands out to the bright blaze.

But suddenly she heard a loud rap at her door. She opened it and her candle shone on three old men standing outside in the snow. Their beards were as white as the snow, and so long that they reached the ground. Their eyes shone kindly in the light of Babushka’s candle, and their arms were full of precious things—boxes of jewels, and sweet-smelling oils, and ointments.

“We have travelled far, Babushka,” they said, “and we stop to tell you of the Baby Prince born this night in Bethlehem. He comes to rule the world and teach all men to be loving and true. We carry Him gifts. Come with us, Babushka.”

But Babushka looked at the drifting snow, and then inside at her cozy room and the crackling fire. “It is too late for me to go with you, good sirs,” she said, “the weather is too cold.”

She went inside again and shut the door, and the old men journeyed on to Bethlehem without her. But as Babushka sat by her fire, rocking, she began to think about the Little Christ-Child, for she loved all babies.

“To-morrow I will go to find Him,” she said, “to-morrow, when it is light, and I will carry Him some toys.”

So when it was morning Babushka put on her long cloak and took her staff, and filled her basket with the pretty things a baby would like—gold balls, and wooden toys, and strings of silver cobwebs—and she set out to find the Christ-Child.

But, oh, Babushka had forgotten to ask the three old men the road to Bethlehem, and they travelled so far through the night that she could not overtake them. Up and down the road she hurried, through woods and fields and towns, saying to whomsoever she met, “I go to find the Christ-Child. Where does He lie? I bring some pretty toys for His sake.”

But no one could tell her the way to go, and they all said, “Farther on, Babushka, farther on.” So she travelled on and on and on for years and years—but she never found the little Christ-Child.

They say that old Babushka is traveling still, looking for Him. When it comes Christmas Eve, and the children are lying fast asleep, Babushka comes softly through the snowy fields and towns, wrapped in her long cloak and carrying her basket on her arm.

With her staff she raps gently at the doors and goes inside and holds her candle close to the little children’s faces.

“Is He here?” she asks. “Is the little Christ-Child here?” And then she turns sorrowfully away again, crying, “Farther on, farther on!”

But before she leaves she takes a toy from her basket and lays it beside the pillow for a Christmas gift. “For His sake,” she says softly, and then hurries on through the years and forever in search of the little Christ-Child.

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Source:
Children’s Book of Christmas Stories, edited by Asa Don Dickinson and Ada M. Skinner, Doubleday, Doran & Company Inc., 1913. 
https://www.gutenberg.org/

Note: The Legend of Babushka is similar to the ancient Italian Legend of La Befana who visits children in early January as an old witch. On the eve of the Epiphany, the old, tattered, and soot-covered Befana flies around the world on a broomstick and comes down chimneys to deliver candy and presents to children who have been good during the year. To those who have been naughty, Befana leaves lumps of coal.

This Italian tradition precedes our modern Santa Claus by centuries. Instead of milk and cookies, Italian families leave her a glass of wine and a plate of sausage. They celebrate the Epiphany on January 6th, as the end of the Christmas, its twelfth day.

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A Slavic Tale – Storytelling for Everyone

As wildfires burn in our country and other disasters follow, I am reminded of the tale of the Firebird and its hero—the young archer and his horse. As the archer confronts one impossible task after the other under threat of death, we can identify. We also are faced with seemingly insurmountable difficulties.

It is our fate at this time in history, to have picked up the feathers of the Firebird

In Slavic folklore, the Firebird burns with flames so bright that it lights up its surroundings: a single feather from the magical bird will light up an entire room. Firebirds are hunted and treasured, but a meeting with the firebird always means trouble. If one picks up a feather of the firebird, it signals the start of a difficult quest. One thing leads to another, as in this rousing folktale.

The Firebird, The Horse of Power, and the Princess Vasilissa 

Once a strong and powerful Tzar ruled in a country far away. And among his servants was a young archer, and this archer had a horse—a horse of power—such a horse as belonged to the wonderful men of long ago—a great horse with a broad chest, eyes like fire, and hoofs of iron.

Well, one day long ago, in the green time of the year, the young archer rode through the forest on his horse of power. The trees were green; there were little blue flowers on the ground under the trees; the squirrels ran in the branches, and the hares in the undergrowth; but no birds sang.

The young archer rode along the forest path and listened for the singing of the birds, but there was no singing. The forest was silent, and the only noises in it were the scratching of four-footed beasts, the dropping of fir cones, and the heavy stamping of the horse of power in the soft path.

“What has come to the birds?” said the young archer.

He had scarcely said this before he saw a big curving feather lying in the path before him. The feather was larger than a swan’s, larger than an eagle’s. It lay in the path, glittering like a flame, for the sun was on it, and it was a feather of pure gold.

Then he knew why there was no singing in the forest. For he knew that the firebird had flown that way, and that the feather in the path before him was a feather from its burning breast.

The horse of power spoke and said, “Leave the golden feather where it lies. If you take it you will be sorry for it, and know the meaning of fear.”

But the brave young archer sat on the horse of power and looked at the golden feather, and wondered whether to take it or not. He had no wish to learn what it was to be afraid, but he thought, “If I take it and bring it to the Tzar my master, he will be pleased; and he will not send me away with empty hands, for no Tzar in the world has a feather from the burning breast of the firebird.”

And the more he thought, the more he wanted to carry the feather to the Tzar. And in the end, he did not listen to the words of the horse of power. He leapt from the saddle, picked up the golden feather of the firebird, mounted his horse again, and galloped back through the green forest till he came to the palace of the Tzar.

He went into the palace, and bowed before the Tzar and said, “O Tzar, I have brought you a feather of the firebird.”

The Tzar looked gladly at the feather, and then at the young archer.

“Thank you,” says he, “but if you have brought me a feather of the firebird, you will be able to bring me the bird itself. I should like to see it. A feather is not a fit gift to bring to the Tzar. Bring the bird itself, or, I swear by my sword, your head shall no longer sit between your shoulders!”

The young archer bowed his head and went out. Bitterly he wept, for he knew now what it was to be afraid. He went out into the courtyard, where the horse of power was waiting for him, tossing its head and stamping on the ground.

“Master,” says the horse of power, “why do you weep?”

“The Tzar has told me to bring him the firebird, and no man on earth can do that,” says the young archer, and he bowed his head on his breast.

“I told you,” says the horse of power, “that if you took the feather you would learn the meaning of fear. Well, do not be frightened yet, and do not weep. The trouble is not now; the trouble lies before you. Go to the Tzar and ask him to have a hundred sacks of maize scattered over the open field, and let this be done at midnight.”

The young archer went back into the palace and begged the Tzar for this, and the Tzar ordered that at midnight a hundred sacks of maize should be scattered in the open field.

Next morning, at the first redness in the sky, the young archer rode out on the horse of power, and came to the open field. The ground was scattered all over with maize. In the middle of the field stood a great oak with spreading boughs. The young archer leapt to the ground, took off the saddle, and let the horse of power loose to wander as he pleased about the field. Then he climbed up into the oak and hid himself among the green boughs.

The sky grew red and gold, and the sun rose. Suddenly there was a noise in the forest round the field. The trees shook and swayed, and almost fell. There was a mighty wind. The sea piled itself into waves with crests of foam, and the firebird came flying from the other side of the world. Huge and golden and flaming in the sun, it flew, dropped down with open wings into the field, and began to eat the maize.

The horse of power wandered in the field. This way he went, and that, but always he came a little nearer to the firebird. Nearer and nearer came the horse. He came close up to the firebird, and then suddenly stepped on one of its spreading fiery wings and pressed it heavily to the ground.

The bird struggled, flapping mightily with its fiery wings, but it could not get away. The young archer slipped down from the tree, bound the firebird with three strong ropes, swung it on his back, saddled the horse, and rode to the palace of the Tzar.

The young archer stood before the Tzar, and his back was bent under the great weight of the firebird, and the broad wings of the bird hung on either side of him like fiery shields, and there was a trail of golden feathers on the floor.

The young archer swung the magic bird to the foot of the throne before the Tzar; and the Tzar was glad, because since the beginning of the world no Tzar had seen the firebird flung before him like a wild duck caught in a snare.

The Tzar looked at the firebird and laughed with pride. Then he lifted his eyes and looked at the young archer, and says he,

“As you have known how to take the firebird, you will know how to bring me my bride, for whom I have long been waiting. In the land of Never, on the very edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame from behind the sea, lives the Princess Vasilissa. I will marry none but her. Bring her to me, and I will reward you with silver and gold. But if you do not bring her, then, by my sword, your head will no longer sit between your shoulders!”

____________________________________

And so the trouble continues…to read the entire folktale, click here:

Old Peter’s Russian tales

By Arthur Ransome
Published: 1916
Publisher: Thomas Nelson and Sons Ltd., London.

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Aine, Goddess of Summer, Wealth, and Sovereignty – Storytelling for Everyone

Celtic Myth

Aine is often remembered as a Celtic goddess of love. But she was also a deity of wealth, sovereignty, and the summer. Her sensitive and joyful personality brought her many followers in the Celtic world. The heart of her cult was located in Limerick, Ireland, though her fame spread like the sun’s rays over many other regions.

Associations between Aine with Venus, Aphrodite, and any other love deity are vague. She was a very complex goddess. One may assume that the goddess of love would have had bright and happy myths surround her, however the legends about Aine are rather depressing. Stories often told of the goddess being raped and murdered, as well as facing many other difficult situations.

Yet these sad stories actually brought her closer to the women who lived in the tough Celtic world. It is important to remember that when the Celtic army worked for others or fought for their land, women also had to protect their homes, towns, and settlements. Therefore, death, cruelty, and sexual abuse were unfortunately quite common for women.

Despite the sad tales, Aine brought women hope and reminded them of the joys of summer and more pleasant times. This may be why she was worshipped instead of some other deities. Aine brought women hope and reminded them of the joys of summer and more pleasant times.

A Sunny Goddess

Celtic legends say that Aine was the daughter of Eogabail, who was a member of the legendary Tuatha Dé Danann. In folklore, she was also recognized as the wife of the sea god Manannan Mac Lir – a deity who was very important for Celtic warriors.

In ancient Irish myths and legends, Aine is described as a Faery Queen, a goddess of the earth and nature, and a lady of the lake. It was believed she brought luck and good magic to her worshippers. Some identify her as a brighter side of the famous goddess Morrigan.

Aine is also known as the goddess who taught humans the meaning of love. She took many human men as lovers and bore many Faerie-Human children. There are countless stories about her escapades with human lovers. Most of the stories about Aine and her lovers were happy and peaceful tales, but some were also sad or disturbing.

Aine’s Encounter with Ailill Aulom

One of the unpleasant legends speaks of a man who didn’t want to learn the meaning of love, but was only driven by his sexual desires. This lout was the King of Munster called Ailill Aulom. According to the traditional story, he raped Aine, so she bit off his ear – which made people call him ‘One-eared Aulom.’

In Old Irish law, kings needed to have a perfect appearance and a complete body. Thus, Aulom lost his authority. This story shows that Aine was also a powerful goddess of sovereignty. As a deity, she granted power to good people, but also took it away from the bad.

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Source: https://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends/aine-radiant-celtic-goddess-007097

Author adminPosted on June 23, 2023Categories Fairy Tales, Legends, Myth, Nature, SeasonsTags Celtic, Faery, fairy, goddess, Ireland

Aztec Women Warriors – Storytelling for Everyone

Culture, History, and Myth

Aztec Woman Warriors, The Cihuateteo

Women were thought of as warriors when women were giving birth. Writers in the 16th century tell us that the Aztecs thought the act of birth was like a battle. The newborn child was described as a ‘captive’ and the mother as a warrior. This stresses how important fighting and capturing enemies was in Aztec society.

In the Aztec empire as in the rest of world at the time, giving birth was dangerous to both the mother and newborn child. All too often, one, the other or both did not live. There was great joy and celebrations when there was a healthy newborn baby and mother. When a mother died giving birth, she was said to be a warrior who died in battle.

When a man died in battle or as a sacrificial victim, he was considered a hero. Aztecs thought he was rewarded by becoming a kind of god, that travelled with the sun on its journey across the sky from dawn to midday. After four years the dead warrior returned to earth to have an ideal life as a butterfly or hummingbird.

Women who died in childbirth, were also rewarded as dead warriors. They too accompanied the sun on its journey but this time from its position at midday down to where it set in the western sky. The Aztecs believed that after four years these dead women warriors also returned to earth, but they became frightening beings that haunted crossroads and tried to snatch babies and children.

There are stone sculptures that show what Aztecs thought these supernatural beings looked like. They are always shown with skull-like heads and clawed hands. They are called Cihuateteo.

Aztec Women Warriors in History and Myth

We know about ancient Aztec history from archaeology, very rare books written before the Spanish arrived and histories written from memory after the Spanish conquest. Experts can use this information to find out a great deal about early Aztec life and events, but lots of information has been lost forever.

From what we do know, it does not seem that early Aztec women were warriors. But the histories do talk about women leaders.

One of the most important names in early Aztec history, is Huitzilopochtli. He is described both as a great leader and as a god connected to the sun and war. The Great Temple (Templo Mayor) was dedicated to him and the rain god.

When the Aztecs were still on their long journeys in search of a permanent home, Aztec histories tell us that Huitzilopochtli’s sister, Malinalxochitl, and a group of people loyal to her, split from the main Aztec group and eventually founded their own city. We don’t really know who this woman was or how or when this split took place. The story may be a simple version of a much more complicated event. But the story shows that Aztecs believed that women, at least in earlier times, could be powerful leaders.

There is an Aztec myth about a warrior goddess named Coyolxauhqui. She is described as being another sister of Huitzilopochtli. The story goes that Coyolxauhqui was furious with her mother, an earth goddess named Coatlicue, when she became pregnant with Huizilopochtli.

Coyolxauhqui joined with her 400 brothers, the Centzon Huitznahua, to attack Coatlicue with the aim of killing her. Before this could happen, Huizilopochtli, was warned of the attack. The story relates that he sprang fully grown from his mother’s womb, armed with a club called a Fire Serpent (Xiuhcoatl).

In the battle that followed, he defeated the Centzon Huitznahua and killed Coyolxauhqui, throwing her body down the hill where they fought. This story may symbolize some historical event in the ancient past. It also symbolizes certain Aztec beliefs.

Some researchers think that Coyolxauhqui represents the moon while the Centzon Huitznahua are the stars, defeated by the sun each morning. Others think Coyolxauqhui may be the milky way.

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Source: https://www.mexicolore.co.uk/aztecs/ask-experts/were-there-women-warriors

Author adminPosted on October 7, 2022Categories Family, Folktales, Ghost Story, History, Legends, MythTags Aztec, goddess energy, Hispanic Heritage Month, Indigenous people, Latinx Heritage Month, matriarchy, Mexico, Women Warriors

Mount Shasta and the Lemurians – Storytelling for Everyone

California Legends

Mount Shasta, the beautiful volcano, has graced the Northern California skyline for centuries. With its luminous glow at sunset, the amazing formation of rare clouds that shroud the mountain, and its prominence in the landscape, there is no wonder that legend and myth have revolved around this mountain for just as long.

In my opinion, the most intriguing of the Mount Shasta mysteries, is that of the lost civilization of the Lemurians. This is a story that I have heard many times: a whole civilization of people, from the lost continent of Lemuria, built a self-sustainable empire inside California’s fifth highest peak.

There are many aspects of the legend. Some versions tell of the Lemurians having the capability of time travel and connections with aliens. Some tell of the vast cavernous tunnels inside the mountain, full of gold and precious gems.

In other tales, hikers in the area are contacted by tall, spiritual beings who appear out of nowhere and disappear in just the same manner. Other tales simply mention the presence of colored orbs and lights in the landscape.

I wanted to know the origin of the tales of Lemurian civilization and what I found in the research was very interesting.

On a fair-weather day in 1883, 17-year-old Frederick Spencer Oliver from Yreka, California, was mapping his family’s property line at the base of Mt. Shasta. As described later to his mother Mary, he began writing uncontrollably with the pen and paper he held in his hand. The mysterious writings detailed that he was the subject chosen to be the amanuensis [scribe] for Phylos the Thibetan, and he would transcribe the book, A Dweller on Two Planets.

Oliver took dictations from Phylos the Thibetan, for about three years, and the writings were eventually published by his mother in 1905, six years after Oliver’s death. A Dweller on Two Planets is a first person account of the Atlantean culture, a culture that had reached a high level of technological and scientific advancement. In the book, Phylos the Thibetan gives a detailed personal history of the lost continent of Atlantis, effects of karma, and the cataclysmic destruction of Poseid, Queen of the Waves.

Enter Edgar Lucian Larkin, who was an astronomer at the Mt. Lowe Observatory, outside of Los Angeles, as well as a writer. As a teenager Larkin developed a deep interest in the idea of lost continents after reading Plato, and well into adulthood never doubted Plato’s account of Atlantis. Larkin came across Oliver’s book and was quite impressed by it, so much so that he referenced Oliver’s writings in an article for the San Francisco Examiner in 1913.

The article, titled “The Atlantides,” addressed the question, “Is there any truth in the legend of the lost continent of Atlantis?”

Twelve years later, an author called only Selvius stated in his article in The Rosicrucians Mystic Triangle, “Descendants of Lemuria: A Description of an Ancient Cult in America,” that Larkin had published an account of Lemurian sightings on Mt. Shasta and that he had apparently seen the Lemurians by telescope while at the Mt. Lowe Observatory. Interestingly enough, no such account by Larkin has ever been located.

However, it has been theorized that Larkin’s mention of Atlanteans and Lemurians, the location of Mt. Shasta, and references to Frederick Spencer Oliver, as well as mentioning temples of gold and countless gems (also paraphrased from A Dweller on Two Planets) may be the sources of the information that Selvius misinterpreted.

It appears that Selvius conjured sightings in his own mind and perpetuated the legend of the Lemurians living at Mt. Shasta.

There have been many more authors who have written on the subject. In 1931, Harvey Spencer Lewis, using the pseudonym Wishar Spenle Cerve, wrote a book published by the Rosicrucians about the hidden Lemurians of Mount Shasta. Later William C. Miesse of the College of the Siskiyous described Lewis’ book as “responsible for the legend’s widespread popularity.” 

A local Redding man by the name of Abraham Joseph Mansfield wrote about the folklore in 1976 with his book The King of the Lemurians, the account of a friend who was said they were approached by a Lemurian while hiking on Mt. Shasta in 1931.

So, there it is, a brief history of the tale of the Lemurian civilization. It’s truly no surprise that the beauty and majesty of our beloved Mt. Shasta inspires so many interesting stories, no matter how strange they may be.

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Source: https://www.redding.com/story/opinion/contributors/local-voices/2016/07/28/the-mt-shasta-lemurians-origin-of-a-legend/96728856/

By Jeremy M. Tuggle