The Water-Nixie – Storytelling for Everyone

German Folktale

A little brother and sister were once playing by a well, and while they were thus playing, they both fell in. A water-nixie lived down below, who said, “Now I have got you, now you shall work hard for me!” And carried them off with her.

She gave the girl dirty tangled flax to spin, and she had to fetch water in a bucket with a hole in it, and the boy had to hew down a tree with a blunt axe, and they got nothing to eat but dumplings as hard as stones.

Then at last the children became so impatient, that they waited until one Sunday, when the nix was at church, and ran away. But when church was over, the nix saw that the birds were flown, and followed them with great strides.

The children saw her from afar, and the girl threw a brush behind her which formed an immense hill of bristles, with thousands and thousands of spikes, over which the nix was forced to scramble with great difficulty; at last, however, she got over.

When the children saw this, the boy threw behind him a comb which made a great hill of combs with a thousand times a thousand teeth, but the nix managed to keep herself steady on them, and at last crossed over that.

Then the girl threw behind her a looking-glass which formed a hill of mirrors, and was so slippery that it was impossible for the nix to cross it.

Then the nix thought, “I will go home quickly and fetch my axe, and cut the hill of glass in half.” Long before she returned, however, and had hewn through the glass, the children had escaped to a great distance.

The water-nixie was obliged to betake herself to her well again.

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Source: Kinder-und Hausmärchen (Children’s and Household Tales, Grimms’ Fairy Tales), final edition (1857).

Author adminPosted on August 4, 2021Categories FolktalesTags german, grimm, water spirit

Kwanzaa UMOJA (Unity) – Storytelling for Everyone

African Folktale

When Anansi’s first son was born and Anansi and his wife, Aso, were ready to name the child, the baby spoke up and said, “I have brought my own name with me. It is See Trouble.” Their second son also announced his name in this way. He was Road Builder.

Each of his six sons in turn announced their names in this way. There was River Drinker, Game Skinner, Stone Thrower and Cushion.

Once, Anansi had to go on a long journey. On his trip, he found a big, bright, shiny ball. He was bringing it home, when he fell into the lake and was swallowed by a big fish.

Anansi decided right then that he would give the bright shiny object to whoever rescued him.

As time passed, and Anansi did not return home, his family became worried. See Trouble looked ahead to see Anansi inside the big fish. He told his brothers. Right away, Road Builder cleared a path through the forest for his brothers to follow.

When they got to the lake, it was the thirsty brother’s turn.

River Drinker drank up all the water in the lake. There was the big fish at the bottom. Game skinner went right to work. He cut open that fish to let Anansi out. Anansi was still holding that bright, shiny object he had found.

Suddenly a giant bird flew down and grabbed Anansi. It took him way up into the sky. Stone Thrower grabbed a rock and threw it. He hit the bird just right to make it let go of Anansi. Down, down Anansi fell, but he didn’t get hurt because Cushion put himself in the way. Anansi landed softly.

Anansi wanted to give the bright, shiny object to the son who had rescued him, but he couldn’t decide who had done the most to help him.

He gave the bright, shiny thing to Nyame, who put it up in the sky until someone could figure out which son deserves it the most. It is still there in the sky. You can see it tonight.

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Sources: Ashanti People of Ghana

https://americanfolklore.net/folklore/2011/11/kwanzaa_stories.html

https://eshu.folktales.net/resources/kwanzaa/umoja.html

Author adminPosted on December 27, 2021December 27, 2021Categories Animal, Fables, Family, FolktalesTags African, Anansi, Ashanti, Kwanzaa

Peace – Storytelling for Everyone

by Laura Shannon

I imagine many of you share my feelings of anger, grief, and dread about this invasion of Ukraine. It is hard to know what to do and terrible to feel so powerless. I would like to offer a practice which I am finding very helpful: to meditate on Ukrainian Goddess embroideries as a prayer for peace.

Goddess figures are ubiquitous in Ukrainian folk art, in woven and embroidered clothing, ritual textiles, pottery, painting, and pysanky, ceremonially decorated Easter eggs. Goddess embroideries are also found throughout the entire Slavic world, Eastern Europe, the Near East and North Africa, and even farther afield.

The Goddess motif is very ancient, as evidenced by archaeological artefacts found in Ukraine – and in many other regions – going back thousands of years to the Neolithic Goddess cultures of Old Europe. 

The Goddess signifies fertility, abundance, benevolence, the source of life, and the natural cycles of birth, death, and regeneration. Goddess embroideries can be understood as living emblems of the ancient egalitarian culture of peace which once reigned in this vast region, according to archaeologist Marija Gimbutas.

The women who make these sacred signs in cloth remember and preserve a worldview of harmony, beauty, peace, and reverence for the earth, the mother and the cycle of life.

Ukraine is also the home of an ancient circle dance tradition, so the women who embroider are also women who dance, and the same life-affirming messages are encoded in the dance steps and the dance experience. 

Goddess embroideries are found in every region of Ukraine, and are frequently the central motif in the woven and embroidered ritual cloths known as rushnyky.

rushnyk (pl. rushnyky) is a long and narrow ritual cloth, usually made from one loom’s-width of linen and about 3 metres long, richly ornamented with woven or embroidered patterns. Ceremonial cloths of this type are found among all Slavic peoples as well as in other regions of Eastern Europe and the Near East. They are used in rituals of weddings, births, baptisms and funerals; in homes, they are draped over icons and outside they are tied to crosses or sacred trees.

The red-on-white rushnyky shown here are typical of central Ukraine; each district has its own distinctive style. The embroidered patterns are outlined freehand in stem stitch, then filled in with a wide variety of different stitches. The same motif is mirrored at both ends. This embroidery technique is used exclusively for rushnyky, not for ‘secular’ textiles.

Each rushnyk is a unique creative expression of the woman who made it, and no two are alike. Nevertheless, the embroideries follow certain guidelines. Typically, a narrow border frames all four edges, delineating a space filled with symmetrical floral motifs.

In Ukrainian folklore, the Goddess has many names and faces. She is honored in three main aspects: Birth, Fertility, and Protection.

I suggest that the essential aspects of these three main Goddesses can be discerned in the three main visual elements of the rushnyk: the central point of origin corresponds to the Birth Goddess, Rozhanytsia, the source of all life; the abundance and joyful flowering designs represent Mokosh, Goddess of Fertility and life-giving moisture, rain and dew; while the narrow borders along the edges of the rushnyk are an embodiment of Berehinia, Goddess of Protection.

Very often the Goddess appears in the rushnyk, either as a recognizable female figure or disguised in the more abstract, stylized floral form of the Tree of Life.  These are the qualities the rushnyky can awaken in us as we contemplate them, and which I would like to invite you to send in our prayers to Ukraine.

The practice I suggest is simply to meditate and pray with these beautiful, joyful and ancient images, to kindle peaceful feelings in ourselves and in the world.

You may find that contemplation of Goddess embroideries helps you embody their qualities of being grounded, centered, connected, and protected.

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Source: https://feminismandreligion.com/2022/03/04/goddess-embroideries-of-ukraine-as-prayers-for-peace-by-laura-shannon/ 

Author adminPosted on June 3, 2022Categories Folktales, Legends, MythTags ancient, Berehinia, embroideries, folk art, folklore, goddess, Mokosh, Peace, ritual, Rozhanytsia, slavic, UkraineLeave a comment on Goddess Embroideries of Ukraine as Prayers for Peace

A Sioux Legend

Two young men were out strolling one night talking of love affairs. They passed around a hill and came to a little ravine or coulee. Suddenly they saw coming up from the ravine a beautiful woman. She was painted and her dress was of the very finest material.

“What a beautiful girl!” said one of the young men.

“Already I love her. I will steal her and make her my wife,” said the other.

I know what you young men have been saying; one of you is good; the other is wicked,” she said.

She laid down the pipe on the ground and at once became a buffalo cow. The cow pawed the ground, stuck her tail straight out behind her and then lifted the pipe from the ground again in her hoofs; immediately she became a young woman again.

“I am come to give you this gift,” she said. “It is the peace pipe. Hereafter all treaties and ceremonies shall be performed after smoking it. It shall bring peaceful thoughts into your minds. You shall offer it to the Great Mystery and to Mother Earth.”

The two young men ran to the village and told what they had seen and heard. All the village came out where the young woman was.

She repeated to them what she had already told the young men and added:

“When you set free the ghosts of the dead, you must have a white buffalo cow skin.”

She gave the pipe to the medicine men of the village, turned again to a buffalo cow and fled away to the land of buffaloes.

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Source: Project Gutenberg’s Myths and Legends of the Sioux, by Marie L. McLaughlin, 1913.

Author adminPosted on May 19, 2021Categories LegendsTags Native American, Peace, Sioux

The American Story

Celebrations of mothers and motherhood can be traced back to the ancient Greeks and Romans, who held festivals in honor of the mother goddesses Rhea and Cybele, but the clearest modern precedent for Mother’s Day is the early Christian festival known as “Mothering Sunday.”

Once a major tradition in the United Kingdom and parts of Europe, this celebration fell on the fourth Sunday in Lent and was originally seen as a time when the faithful would return to their “mother church”—the main church in the vicinity of their home—for a special service. 

Over time the Mothering Sunday tradition shifted into a more secular holiday, and children would present their mothers with flowers and other tokens of appreciation. This custom eventually faded in popularity before merging with the American Mother’s Day in the 1930s and 1940s.

Ann Reeves Jarvis and Julia Ward Howe

The origins of Mother’s Day as celebrated in the United States date back to the 19th century. In the years before the Civil War, Ann Reeves Jarvis of West Virginia helped start “Mothers’ Day Work Clubs” to teach local women how to properly care for their children.

These clubs later became a unifying force in a region of the country still divided over the Civil War. In 1868 Jarvis organized “Mothers’ Friendship Day,” at which mothers gathered with former Union and Confederate soldiers to promote reconciliation.

Another precursor to Mother’s Day came from the abolitionist and suffragette Julia Ward Howe. In 1870 Howe wrote the “Mother’s Day Proclamation,” a call to action that asked mothers to unite in promoting world peace. In 1873 Howe campaigned for a “Mother’s Peace Day” to be celebrated every June 2.

Other early Mother’s Day pioneers include Juliet Calhoun Blakely, a temperance activist who inspired a local Mother’s Day in Albion, Michigan, in the 1870s. The duo of Mary Towles Sasseen and Frank Hering, meanwhile, both worked to organize a Mothers’ Day in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Some have even called Hering “the father of Mothers’ Day.”

Anna Jarvis Turns Mother’s Day Into a National Holiday

The official Mother’s Day holiday arose in the 1900s as a result of the efforts of Anna Jarvis, daughter of Ann Reeves Jarvis. Following her mother’s 1905 death, Anna Jarvis conceived of Mother’s Day as a way of honoring the sacrifices mothers made for their children.

After gaining financial backing from a Philadelphia department store owner named John Wanamaker, in May 1908 she organized the first official Mother’s Day celebration at a Methodist church in Grafton, West Virginia. That same day also saw thousands of people attend a Mother’s Day event at one of Wanamaker’s retail stores in Philadelphia.

Following the success of her first Mother’s Day, Jarvis—who remained unmarried and childless her whole life—resolved to see her holiday added to the national calendar. Arguing that American holidays were biased toward male achievements, she started a massive letter writing campaign to newspapers and prominent politicians urging the adoption of a special day honoring motherhood.

By 1912 many states, towns and churches had adopted Mother’s Day as an annual holiday, and Jarvis had established the Mother’s Day International Association to help promote her cause. Her persistence paid off in 1914 when President Woodrow Wilson signed a measure officially establishing the second Sunday in May as Mother’s Day.

Jarvis denounces Mother’s Day

Anna Jarvis had originally conceived of Mother’s Day as a day of personal celebration between mothers and families. Her version of the day involved wearing a white carnation as a badge and visiting one’s mother or attending church services. But once Mother’s Day became a national holiday, it was not long before florists, card companies and other merchants capitalized on its popularity.

While Jarvis had initially worked with the floral industry to help raise Mother’s Day’s profile, by 1920 she had become disgusted with how the holiday had been commercialized. She outwardly denounced the transformation and urged people to stop buying Mother’s Day flowers, cards and candies.

Jarvis eventually resorted to an open campaign against Mother’s Day profiteers, speaking out against confectioners, florists and even charities. She also launched countless lawsuits against groups that had used the name “Mother’s Day,” eventually spending most of her personal wealth in legal fees. By the time of her death in 1948 Jarvis had disowned the holiday altogether, and even actively lobbied the government to see it removed from the American calendar.

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Source: https://www.history.com/topics/holidays/mothers-day

Author adminPosted on May 7, 2021Categories HistoryTags American, Ann Jarvis, Anna Jarvis, Mother’s Day, Peace, temperance

Long ago, Klos-kur-beh, the Great Teacher, lived in the land where no people lived. One day at noon, a young man came to him and called him “Mother’s brother.”

Standing before Klos-kur-beh, he said, “I was born of the foam of the waters. The wind blew, and the waves quickened into foam. The sun shone on the foam and warmed it, and the warmth made life, and the life was I. See–I am young and swift, and I have come to abide with you and to help in all that you do.”

Again on a day at noon, a maiden came, stood before the two, and called them “my children.” “My children, I have come to abide with you and have brought with me love. I will give it to you, and if you will love me and will grant my wish, all the world will love me, even the very beasts. Strength is mine, and I give it to whosoever may get me. Comfort also is mine, for though I am young, my strength shall be felt over all the earth. I was born of the beautiful plant of the earth. For the dew fell on the leaf, and the sun warmed the dew, and the warmth was life, and that life is I.”

Then Klos-kur-beh lifted up his hands toward the sun and praised the Great Spirit. Afterward, the young man and the maiden became man and wife, and she became the first mother. Klos-kur-beh taught their children and did great works for them. When his works were finished, he went away to live in the Northland until it should be time for him to come again.

The people increased until they were numerous. When a famine came among them, the first mother grew more and more sorrowful. Every day at noon she left her husband’s lodge and stayed away from him until the shadows were long. Her husband, who dearly loved her, was sad because of her sorrow. One day he followed her trail as far as the ford of the river, and there he waited for her to return.

When she came, she sang as she began to ford the river, and as long as her feet were in the water she seemed glad. The man saw something that trailed behind her right foot, like a long green blade. When she came out of the water, she stooped and cast off the blade. Then she appeared sorrowful.

The husband followed her home as the sun was setting, and he bade her come out and look at the beautiful sun. While they stood side by side, there came seven little children. They stood in front of the couple, looked into the woman’s face, and spoke: “We are hungry, and the night will soon be here. Where is the food?”

Tears ran down the woman’s face as she said, “Be quiet, little ones. In seven moons you shall be filled and shall hunger no more.”

Her husband reached out, wiped away her tears, and asked, “My wife, what can I do to make you happy?”

“Nothing else,” she said. “Nothing else will make me happy.”

Then the husband went away to the Northland to ask Klos-kur-beh for counsel. With the rising of the seventh sun, he returned and said, “O wife, Klos-kur-beh has told me to do what you asked.”

The woman was pleased and said, “When you have slain me, let two men take hold of my hair and draw my body all the way around a field. When they have come to the middle of it, let them bury my bones. Then they must come away. When seven months have passed, let them go again to the field and gather all that they find. Tell them to eat it. It is my flesh. You must save a part of it to put in the ground again. My bones you cannot eat, but you may burn them. The smoke will bring peace to you and your children.”

The next day, when the sun was rising, the man slew his wife. Following her orders, two men drew her body over an open field until her flesh was worn away. In the middle of the field, they buried her bones.

When seven moons had passed by and the husband came again to that place, he saw it all filled with beautiful tall plants. He tasted the fruit of the plant and found it sweet. He called it Skar-mu- nal–“corn.”

And on the place where his wife’s bones were buried, he saw a plant with broad leaves, bitter to the taste. He called it Utar-mur-wa-yeh– “tobacco.”

Then the people were glad in their hearts, and they came to the harvest. But when the fruits were all gathered, the man did not know how to divide them. So he sent to the great teacher, Klos- kur-beh, for counsel.

When Klos-kur-beh came and saw the great harvest, he said, “Now have the first words of the first mother come to pass, for she said she was born of the leaf of the beautiful plant. She said also that her power should be felt over the whole world and that all men should love her.

“And now that she has gone into this substance, take care that the second seed of the first mother be always with you, for it is her flesh. Her bones also have been given for your good. Burn them, and the smoke will bring freshness to the mind. And since these things came from the goodness of a woman’s heart, see that you hold her always in memory. Remember her when you eat. Remember her when the smoke of her bones rises before you. And because you are all brothers, divide among you her flesh and her bones.

Let all share alike, for so will the love of the first mother have been fulfilled.”

Penobscot and Abenaki legends, First Mother and her sacrifice for her children. Source: Indigenous Peoples Literature
Illustration: “Lammas” by Wendy Andrews

Author adminPosted on November 25, 2019Categories Legends, NatureTags Abenaki, Gratitude, Native American, Peace, Penobscot, Thanksgiving

Unseen Folklore of Dia de los Muertos – Storytelling for Everyone

By Bailey White

When I was involved in my high school’s Spanish club, our biggest event was the Dia de los Muertos celebration. Dia de los Muertos, or better known as Day of the Dead, gave us an opportunity to prepare Mexican food, decorate the school, and dress up in colorful Hispanic garb. To my unintentionally ignorant peers, Dia de los Muertos was just seen as two celebration-filled days that honor deceased family members and friends in Hispanic culture.

What my schoolmates did not know was that underneath all the celebrations and festivities that occur during Dia de los Muertos, there are several underlying messages that Latin Americans have been trying to convey for thousands of years. Through the celebration of death, Hispanics have discovered what life is really about: family, equality, and tradition.

Despite Dia de los Muertos primarily being a commemoration for deceased loved ones, the underlying folklore of the holiday cherishes diversity and unification through traditions, such as ofrendas.

In Hispanic culture, family is one of the most important and cherished aspects of life. Being from a large Hispanic family myself, I can attest to the notion that we will find any reason to commemorate a living family member or ancestor. Family is so extremely valued and honored in Latin American culture that death makes our relationships with each other even stronger.

This inseparable bond of loved ones through life and death is what spurred one of the most iconic traditions of Dia de los Muertos: ofrendas. Ofrendas are elaborate, vibrant altars that often boast large arches and offerings that honor a passing of a loved one.

The four elements of the Earth are an essential tradition of an ofrenda:

Water is served in a clay pitcher or glass to quench the spirit’s thirst from their long journey. Fire is signified by the candles that are lit. Wind is signified by papel picado (tissue paper cut-outs). The earth element is represented by food, usually pan de muerto (bread of the dead). Alongside the Earth elements, friends and family shower spirits with memorable photographs, incense, fruit, assorted flowers, and personal items. All of these offerings contribute to the overall goal of honoring loved ones and sending the simple message of: I will love you and remember you always.

This loving tradition began ages ago; it first dates back to the Mesoamerican times, when the Aztecs believed that once the physical body died, the soul would continue to live in another realm of the universe. In those days, many would use ofrendas to summon back ancestors’ souls and lead them back home. Due to colonization of what is now modern-day Mexico and the European influence on the Aztec culture, the altar’s purpose has changed radically, but the main idea has not.

Ofrendas and the celebration of Dia de los Muertos is one of the few Mesoamerican traditions that successfully slipped through the cracks of the Spaniard’s religious control of Mexico. Although the Spaniards learned to understand the tradition of the ofrendas, many cultures are still unaware of their purpose today.

In order to dig deeper into the misconceptions of ofrendas, I used qualitative research techniques to understand others’ opinions on this holiday more thoroughly.

I interviewed Mexico native and old friend, Majo Rodriguez, on how Americans view traditional ofrendas. “In modern day Mexico, ofrendas are used as a way to say ‘We miss you dearly.’ But people who do not celebrate Dia de los Muertos misread it as us trying to summon spirits and see if they will eat the food that is displayed on the altars. Many I have encountered have it all wrong.”

Despite what other cultures may think, this ancient tradition is a way to bring families closer, and honor those who have passed on. The core of the ofrenda is to remember those who are important to you, and that family is one of nature’s greatest blessings.

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Source: White, Bailey, “The Unseen Folklore of Dia de los Muertos” (2018). Jessie O’Kelly Freshman Essay Award. 1. https://scholarworks.uark.edu/englfea/1

This Essay is brought to you for free and open access by the English at ScholarWorks@UARK. It has been accepted for inclusion in Jessie O’Kelly Freshman Essay Award by an authorized administrator of ScholarWorks@UARK.

Author adminPosted on November 1, 2021November 1, 2021Categories Folktales, History, Legends, Personal Story, SeasonsTags Aztec, Dia de los Muertos, hispanic, Latinx, Mexico

Alconquin Cinderella – Storytelling for Everyone

Art by Michael Hague

Once there was a great warrior named Strong Wind. He lived with his sister in a tent on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean. Strong Wind had an amazing power. He was able to make himself invisible. His sister could see him, but no one else could. He said he would marry the first woman who could see him as he came home at the end of the day.

Many women came to the tent to watch for him. When his sister saw him coming, she would ask, ‘Do you see him?’

Each girl would answer, ’Oh, yes! I see him!’

Then Strong Wind’s sister would ask, ‘What is he pulling his sled with?’

And the girl would answer, ‘with a rope’ or ‘with a wooden pole.’

Then Strong Wind’s sister would know that they were lying, because their guesses were wrong. Many tried and lied and failed. For Strong Wind would not marry anyone who was untruthful.

A chief lived in the village. His wife had died, but he had three daughters. One was much younger than the other two. She was gentle and kind and beautiful, but her sisters were jealous of her and treated her badly.

They cut off her long black hair and they made her wear rags. They also burned her face with coals from the fire to make her look ugly. And they lied to their father and said that she had done these things to herself. But she remained kind and gentle and went about her work with a patient heart.

The two older sisters also went to try and see Strong Wind. When he was coming Strong Wind’s sister asked them, ‘Do you see him?’

Oh, yes! I see him!’ each of them answered.

‘What is his bow made out of?’ asked Strong Wind’s sister.

‘Out of iron,’ answered one. ‘Out of strong wood,’ answered the other.

‘You have not seen him,’ said Strong Wind’s sister

Strong Wind himself heard them and knew that they had lied. They went into the tent, but still they could not see him. They went home very disappointed.

One day the youngest daughter went to try and see Strong Wind. She was wearing rags, and her face was covered in burns. As she went along the road, people pointed and laughed at her, but still she continued on her way. When she came to Strong Wind’s tent she waited.

When Strong Wind was coming, his sister asked the girl, ‘Do you see him?’

‘No,’ the girl answered. ‘I do not see him.’

Strong Wind’s sister was surprised because the girl had told the truth.

‘Now do you see him?’ asked Strong Wind’s sister.

‘Yes,’ answered the girl. ‘Now I do see him. He is magnificent.’

‘What is his bow made of?’ asked Strong Wind’s sister.

‘The rainbow,’ answered the girl.

‘And what is the bowstring made of?’ asked Strong Wind’s sister.

‘Of stars,’ answered the girl.

Then Strong Wind’s sister knew that the girl could really see him. He had let her see him because she had told the truth.

‘You really have seen him,’ said Strong Wind’s sister. Then the sister bathed the girl in a sacred spring, and all the burns went away. Her hair grew long and black again. The sister dressed the girl in fine clothes. Strong Wind came to the teepee and greeted his wife.

The girls’ two older sisters were very angry, but Strong Wind turned them into aspen trees. Ever since that day, the leaves of the aspen tree tremble with fear whenever the wind comes near, because they know he will never forget their cruelty.

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Sources: Legends of the Micmacs, by Silas Rand, Longmans, New York and London, 1894; and The Algonquin Legends of New England, by Charles Leland, Houghton Mifflin, Boston, 1884. (Rand’s manuscript, though published later, was the basis for Leland’s version.) Background on the Micmacs came from The Micmac Indians of Eastern Canada, by Wilson and Ruth Wallis, University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, 1955.

Note: This tale was popular in many Native American tribes with languages in the Algonquian family. The variant here comes from the Mi’kmaq (or Micmac) tribe of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island, Canada, and was recorded in Nova Scotia.

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The History of the Three Bears – Storytelling for Everyone

British Folklore

The story of the Three Bears is a familiar one. A troublesome interloper breaks into the home of three bears. She samples food and breaks furniture before being sent on her way. But, did you know that the housebreaker was originally an old woman, not a little girl named Goldilocks? Or, that the first Three Bears were friends instead of Mama Bear, Papa Bear and Baby Bear?

The Three Bears started as an oral tale and was first written down almost 200 years ago. Over the decades, the story has changed and grown into the tale we know today. The Osborne Collection of Early Children’s Books has materials which reveal the history of The Three Bears story.

Eleanor Mure’s Manuscript

Eleanor Mure wrote the first recorded version of The Three Bears story in 1831. Osborne Collection has Mure’s original manuscript, a handmade book created as a gift for her nephew Horace Broke. The story is set at Cecil Lodge, the Mure family estate in Hertfordshire, England. Mure’s The Story of Three Bears (1831) is told in verse and illustrated with original watercolours.

Described as “the celebrated nursery tale,” the story was shared orally by Mure’s family long before she set it to paper. In Mure’s telling, the Bears are not a family. They are three friends who “fancy a home amongst the dwellings of men.” 

Instead of a little girl, the Bears’ house is invaded by an old woman. Mure’s old woman meets a bad end. As punishment for housebreaking, the Bears try to burn and drown the old woman. When nothing works, they “chuck her aloft on St. Paul’s church-yard steeple.”  

Robert Southey’s Published Story

In 1837, English poet Robert Southey released the first printed version of The Three Bears. The story appeared in Southey’s prose anthology The Doctor (1834-47). As with Mure’s family, The Three Bears was a popular story among Southey’s family. Southey likely heard The Three Bears from his uncle, William Tyler. Tyler was illiterate, but had a great memory for folktales. 

Southey’s story is the first version to discuss the Bears’ size. He introduces the Three Bears as Little, Small, Wee Bear; Middle Bear; and Great, Huge Bear. The story has no illustrations, but the Bears’ size is represented by typography. Great, Huge Bear speaks in large gothic letters. Little, Small, Wee Bear speaks in tiny italics.

Unlike Mure’s telling, the Southey’s bears do not punish the intruding old woman. Instead she makes an escape through an open window. Southey speculates that she might be “sent to the House of Correction” for vagrancy, or perhaps “she broke her neck in the fall.”

Southey’s The Three Bears was an instant hit. Within months publisher George Nicol released his own version of The Story of the Three Bears (1837). Nicol’s story was in verse, but otherwise was a direct retelling of Southey’s version.

A Girl with Metallic Hair

In early tellings of The Three Bears, the protagonist was an old woman. But in 1850, Joseph Cundall wrote the first retelling featuring a little girl. Cundall called his character Silver-Hair and justified the switch by saying “there are so many other stories of old women.” Published in A Treasury of Pleasure Books for Young Children (1850), Cundall’s retelling otherwise closely followed Southey’s version of The Three Bears.

Following Cundall’s publication, little girl protagonists named Silver-Hair became a common feature of The Three Bears retellings. The character was sometimes called Silver-Locks, Golden Hair and other variant names. 

Goldilocks Popularized

The name Goldilocks was first used for the Bears’ nemesis in two 1904 fairy tale anthologies. Old Nursery Rhymes and Stories (1904) and Old Fairy Tales for Children (1904) both feature “Little Goldilocks” as The Three Bears’ intruder. It is possible that the name Goldilocks was inspired by an entirely different fairy tale. French fairy tale writer Madame d’Aulnoy‘s story, The Beauty with Golden Hair, is sometimes translated as The Story of Pretty Goldilocks. 

In the 20th century, Goldilocks became the character’s standard name. Popular fairy tale collections like Flora Annie Steel’s English Fairy Tales (1918) used the Goldilocks name. Now the story is sometimes simply titled Goldilocks without any mention of The Three Bears. 

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Source:

https://torontopubliclibrary.typepad.com/arts_culture/2021/01/the-three-bears-before-goldilocks-the-history-of-a-fairy-tale.html

Summer Sun Goddesses – Storytelling for Everyone

By Susan Morgaine

Hemera, Goddess of the Day

With the Summer Solstice upon us, it is time to turn our attention to the Summer Sun Goddess: Goddesses we can call on while meditating on a sandy beach, or invoke at a warm summer dawn.

There are many Goddesses associated with summer and the sun; these are but a few. May you be blessed by Her this summer.

Hemera (Greek)

Her name, which means “light,” Aurora/Eos is the Goddess of Dawn. She rode her chariot, bringing light across the sky. It is said that She had strong sexual urges, kidnapping men for her own uses. She brought forth hope in every new day and that Her tears create the dew of the morning.

Hemera, is a Greek Goddess of the Day. Her mother, the Goddess Nyx, brought darkness each night and each day, Hemera would brighten the world once again with her morning greeting.

Aestas (Roman)

While there is not much known about this Goddess of Summer, She stands by the throne of Phoebus, the Sun-God. Her name means summer or summer heat and She is depicted standing naked with only wheat sheaves in Her hair. She reminds us to enjoy the abundance and glory of summer.

Aditi (Hindu)

The Hindu Goddess and keeper of all light, Aditi illuminates life as we know it. She has no mother and had no birth. She exists for and from all time. It is said that She birthed a large egg, that moved into the sky and became the sun.

Hathor (Egyptian)

The Egyptian Goddess of the sky, She is still worshipped today. She is the “Mother of the Sun”, and is depicted with a solar disk on Her headdress. Many festivals are held in Her honor, but on New Year’s Day, Her image was brought out of the Temple at Dendera to catch the rays of the newborn sunlight. “She is the body in which the soul resides.”

Aine (Irish)

The Sun Goddess of Ireland, Her name means brightness, joy, radiance and glow; She brings us the power of the sun and the abundance of summer. She was honored at mid-summer at the top of Her Hill on Cnoc Aine. It is said that She gave the gift of grain to the people of Ireland. She could assume the shape of a red mare, at will.

Ameratsu (Japanese/Shinto)

A Japanese Shinto Goddess, She is honored as the ruler of all other deities. As the guardian of Her people, Her name means, ”great shining in heaven.” Her emblem, the rising sun, is on the flag of Japan. She is worshiped at the Shinto Grand Shrine of Ise in Japan.

Wishing you all the joys and blessings of Summer!

_____________________

Source: http://themotherhouseofthegoddess.com/2016/06/06/summersun-goddesses-susan-morgaine/

(Originally Published at paganpages.org August, 2015)

Author adminPosted on June 24, 2022Categories Folktales, Legends, Myth, Nature, SeasonsTags goddesses, summer, Summer Solstice, sun goddesses

Tailypo – Storytelling for Everyone

An Appalachian Folktale

Old Man Fletcher lived in a log cabin, up a dark holler, deep in the mountains of West Virginia. He had three dogs that kept him company on the long lonely nights. Their names were I-Know, You-Know, and Calico.

The cabin only had one room. Old Man Fletcher had his bed one on side of the room and his fireplace was on the other. His dogs slept in the crawlspace under the porch. On cold winter nights, Old Man Fletcher liked to sit by the fireplace and warm his bones.

One winter night, Old Man Fletcher was feeling mighty hungry. The weather had been bad for several days, so he hadn’t been able to hunt and all he had left to eat was a handful of dry beans. He threw them into his cast iron pot where they landed with a hollow rattle, poured in some water from his gourd dipper, added a pinch of salt, and put them over the fire to cook. The water in the pot began to boil.

After awhile, Old Man Fletcher dipped his wooden spoon in and tasted the beans. They were still hard. Old Man Fletcher grimaced as he swallowed the rough mouthful. Why did beans take so long to cook? His stomach grumbled and he knew that the measly handful of beans wouldn’t be enough to satisfy his belly. He needed meat—maybe some salt pork or a slab of fatback. His mouth watered at the thought.

He settled back in his hickory chair and stared into the flames, listening to the bubbling of the beans. Logs burned down into coals. Old Man Fletcher sighed, and picked up another log to add. It was too big to fit under the pot so he grabbed his hatchet and spilt it into four pieces. He was just about to try the beans again when he heard a scratching sound coming from under the floorboards.

He looked down and saw a black-furred paw with long claws coming out of knothole in the floor. It was a hole he’d been meaning to fix but hadn’t got to yet. As he watched, claws dug into the wood and scratched viciously, wood crumbled away and the hole widened. The paw was followed by another paw and then a head appeared—as big around as his fist and set with glittering pair of green eyes.

The creature pulled the rest of its body inside. It was long like a weasel, but bigger, and it had thick, meaty tail that drug the on the ground behind it. The tail was hairless and pink, like an overweight rat’s. When the creature saw Old Man Fletcher, it humped up its back and hissed, revealing a jaws lined with pointed white teeth. Old Man Fletcher grabbed his hatchet.

The creature spun around and tried to dive back down the hole. It was fast, but so was Old Man Fletcher, he brought the hatchet down right at the base of the critter’s tail. The creature shrieked in pain and disappeared through the hole, leaving its bloody tail twitching on the floor.

Old Man Fletcher picked up the tail and was about to throw outside for the dogs, when he noticed how heavy it was in his hand. There was a lot of meat on it. His stomach rumbled again. So, he threw it into the pot of beans—skin, bones and all.

A wonderful smell filled the cabin. Old Man Fletcher waited as long as he could, then took the pot out of the fire. The beans were still a little hard, but he didn’t care, the meat tasted wonderful, kind of like squirrel.

With his stomach full, Old Man Fletcher plugged up the hole in the floor with some old rags. Then, he got into bed and drifted off to sleep.

He hadn’t been asleep too long when a sound woke him up. It sounded like something was trying to claw a hole through the wall of the cabin. Old Man Fletcher sat up in bed and looked around, trying to figure out which wall the sound was coming from.

“Tailypo. Tailypo. I want my Tailypo.”

The voice came from somewhere outside the door, on the porch. It was high, grating and strange—like a cat with pneumonia whining.

Old Man Fletcher jumped out of bed and called to his dogs. “I-Know! You-Know! Calico! Chase that thang off!”

The dogs started barking and scrabbled their way out from under the porch. The creature scratching on the way scampered away, leading the dogs off into the woods. Old Man Fletcher listened as their barks grew more and more distant. He stayed up until he heard them return, one by one, back under the porch to go to sleep.

Then, he climbed back in bed and pulled up his blanket. He was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard the scratching sound again. This time it sounded like it was coming from one of the windows. Whatever that creature was, it really wanted in! He heard the strange voice again, mewing louder this time.

“Tailypo! Tailypo! Where is my Tailypo?”

Old Man Fletcher was getting a little shaky. He eased up to the window and yelled to his dogs, “I-Know! You-Know! Calico! See what’s scratching on my house!”

The dogs came running and chased the critter back into the woods. Old Man Fletcher was too worried to sleep. He ripped the blanket off his bed, wrapped up in it and moved back to his hickory chair by the fire. He sat there listening, waiting for his dogs to return. They never did. A restless sleep soon overtook him.

The scent of smoke awoke the old man at dawn. He opened his eyes and leapt from the chair, kicking the blanket off him. The edge of the blanket had found its way into the fireplace sometime during the night and the wool was now smoldering. Old Man Fletcher stomped on the blanket trying to put out the flames now consuming it. He cursed and jumped back, nursing a burned foot. Thick smoke, heavy with the scent of burnt wool filled the cabin.

Old Man Fletcher coughed, his eyes streamed. He picked up the blanket by the corner, ran to the window, opened it and threw the blanket out. He stood there for a moment gulping in the fresh air and fanning the smoke.

The sun was shining, birds flitted through the tree branches and searched for food in the snow. Old Man Fletcher looked around, there was no sign of the strange, tailless critter. His foot throbbed. Old Man Fletcher limped back to the bed and sat down. He propped his foot up and laid back, exhausted from the events of the night, he fell into a deep sleep.

“Tailypo! Tailypo! You got my Tailypo!”

Old Man Fletcher opened his eyes to find the hideous creature from the night before perched on the end his bed. It jumped onto his chest and fixed him with its blood red eyes.

“I ain’t got your Tailypo no more, I—I ate it,” said Old Man Fletcher.

The creature leaned close and growled.

Old Man Fletcher’s screams echoed down the through the holler, then stopped, leaving a chilling silence.

The single-room, log cabin still stands in that holler, deep in the mountains of West Virginia. Occasionally hunters or hikers will stay there for the night. They say if you stay up late at night and listen closely, you’ll hear a strange voice on the wind.

“Tailypo! Tailypo! Now I got my Tailypo!”

___________________

Source: The Weekly Holler by Luke Bauserman
https://www.getrevue.co/profile/theweeklyholler/issues/tailypo-an-appalachian-folktale-the-weekly-holler-18-28041

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

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