Stories for a seamstress
Stories for a seamstress
Crochet-Stork
“Granny, look at what I look like.”
“I do. So?”
“I’m beautiful, am I not!”
“Do you mean the dress?”
“No, granny, no. It’s me beautiful. Isn’t it so?”
“You know, dear, let me tell you a story about a handsome one, so interesting a story. Do you want me to?”
“Yes, do tell me. Let’s go to the fireplace.”
“Okay, have a seat, listen and don’t interrupt.”
It happened long, long ago, so long that nobody really remembers, whether it really happened. And where these wonders really happen is unheard at all.
So… Once upon a time there lived a stork. He was a real dandy, his dress coat was white, necktie was black and his high boots were red. He stalked in a high-flying manner, not hasting anywhere, as a real landlord. All swamp dwellers made their way for him. Only with his head he gave a little bow loftily in return. As any landlord, this stork liked to have a tasty and heavy meal. Fortunately, the swamp was far more than full of all kinds of food for such a sweet-tooth. There were frogs, beetles and fish.
It was a beautiful stork, but quite a lazy one. The swamp king, in the kingdom of which our stork fed, had no use of such a handsome one.
From the early morning our stork walked from one hillock to another looking in ooze for the next delicacy to come. Having found the meal, he shortly flicked it from the deep and swallowed it with pleasure. Along with the food his beak pulled bits of ooze and long weed. The lazy one didn’t even bother to clean his beak and a green tail dragged behind the dandy. It was ugly, but the stork didn’t even think of himself having any drawbacks. So had he the ooze dragging behind him as a long ribbon. Only when it got hard for him to fly up, the poor thing noticed his tail-piece. He grieved, the former handsome one, he cried. He began to plead the swamp king to help him in his misfortune.
And the king tells him:
“All of your bird life you only did admire yourself, you drank and ate and you had fun. You didn’t even bother to look at how everybody worked for good of our swamp kingdom. You’ve got nothing to be proud of, nothing to impress with. You got to look like a crochet, with which people knit patterns. So, be it! You didn’t want to serve me; maybe you’ll be able to do some good to people.”
The king spattered the stork with the swamp water and at that very moment the magnificent bird became a thin bone crochet. And the green ooze turned to be a thread. There it is in the hands of a seamstress. There she knots patterns and wonders as everything goes smoothly and beautifully. But there is nothing to wonder about, it’s the former stork trying to help. He hopes to earn forgiveness from the swamp king by some hard work. The crochet is dreaming to become the white winged bird again and fly up high into the blue sky, away from the swamp kingdom.
Two Knitting Needles
“Granny, look, what did my mum give me?”
“A white sweater?”
“It’s not white at all, it has a picture on it. Can you see what a beautiful flower it is?”
“Yes, very beautiful. And do you want to know how this wonderful sweater with a pattern on it was made?”
“A story, right?”
“Right. There you go.”
One day two sisters, knitting needles, had an argument.
“Why are you fussing? Hither and thither, hither and thither. How come you don’t get bored?” says the first needle.
The second one is quiet, cunningly smiling she keeps on bowing on either side of her sister.
“Raise your nose and look at me,” goes on the first needle, “I’m not hurrying anywhere, I’m calm and even a little bit lazy. And still, all of the knitting depends on me.”
The second needle got tired of listening to the knocks and mockery of her sister, and there she says, still bowing:
“If you weren’t so proudy and arrogant and looked farther than your own nose, you’d notice then one thing — I bow without rest, that’s true, in return every time I get clothed with a new loop, even with some addition. And you after my every bow lose a loop and quite soon you’ll go completely bare.”
“You cheeky one!” angrily yelped the first needle. At this very moment the last loop slipped from her to her sister’s end.
“Thief! Shameless thief! I don’t want to know you anymore!” said the first needle getting offended. Then she sprang aside from her sister so hard that she could catch herself, fell on the floor and rolled into a crack.
“That’s all that is left from your much-vaunted calm!” cried after her the grown rich second needle. She looked around and since there was nothing to do she decided it were some time to rest as then she noticed that the loops fast slide off her onto an appeared from nowhere new knitting needle.
“What’s the matter?” asked she irritated. “Who are you?”
“The seamstress doesn’t need an unpaired needle.” said the new one as she continued to undress the old one.
“That’s an outrage! I worked so hard.” almost weeping said the needle left without sister.
“Now I work here and all of your possessions are going to be mine.” calmly responded the new one and took off the last loop from the offended neighbor.
“Oh dear!” only could yelp the undressed needle as she found herself in a litter bin.
The new one without any wind in the head kindly shared her treasures with her sister that drew up to help, same new one and hard-working.
Hand in hand they worked together. When one of the needles worked bowing, the other one took some rest gaining strength. And other way round — the first one took rest and the second one worked hard.
So, helping each other they knitted a good, magnificent sweater.
About the author:
Anastasia Yanch, was born January 1959 in the Ukrainian city Dobropolye of the Donetsk province. In 1978 she entered Leningrad teachers’ college named after Herzen A. I. After her graduation up to this day she works as a physics teacher in the school she used to study.
Anastasia is the author of several books two of which are storybooks – “Heavenly stories for a little gnome” and “Granny’s stories for a seamstress”. Currently, she is working on the third storybook “Mother’s stories about nature”.
Since 2010 Anastasia has actively worked with Little Company magazine for children and their parents (for Russian speaking children in the US), as well as with the weekly Express Week newspaper (Lithuania).
