Once there was a young mother who lay on
her death bed, her face as pale as white wax roses. Her young daughter and her husband sat by
her
Once there was a young mother who lay on
her death bed, her face as pale as white wax roses. Her young daughter and her husband sat by
her
The dying mother whispered something to her daughter Vasilisa, who knelt down by the bed to hear better what her mother was saying.
‘Here is a doll for you my love,’ the mother whispered, and from under the quilt she pulled a tiny little doll which was dressed like Vasilisa herself, in a yellow dress with a pink and white embroidered neck and red boots.
‘I’ve got something very important to tell you,’ said the mother.
‘If ever you lose your way or are in need of help ask this doll what to do, and she will help you. Feed her when she is hungry, and listen to her. Do not tell anybody about her. This is your mother’s promise to you, dear daughter.’
And with that the mother’s breath faded away and she died.