Folk Tales I

Here is my first folk tale re-telling. You can read my introduction to these here. This comes from a Japanese folk tale called The Mirror of Matsuyama. I have changed the setting from Japan to the American west, but have left most of it the same. You can read the original story here. So, without further delay, here is my version:

The Mirror

A thin beam of light from the setting sun shone through the crack in the door, climbed up the wooden table in the center of the room, and ran down the other side before dying out next to a woman sitting in a rocking chair, knitting. Her daughter played on the wooden floor next to her with a rag doll, its left eye hanging by a thread.

The door swung open and a tall man walked in. His eyes were tired and his clothes ragged. The little girl jumped up, leaving her doll on the floor where she was playing, and ran to her father. She jumped in his arms and the father let out an audible groan at the extra weight, but he still grabbed the girl and tossed her into the air as if she were a doll.

“I have news,” the man said as he set his daughter down. “Word is that prices are up. I need to go to town tomorrow with some of the harvest now before they go back down again. I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Can I come?” the daughter asked, looking up at her father.

The man bent down.

“No, darling, you must stay. But if you’re a good girl, and look after your mother, I’ll bring you a surprise.”

***

The sun stood a perfect sphere, high in the pale blue sky. A gentle breeze blew through the small girl’s hair as she did cartwheels near the small log cabin. She fell and lay in the warm grass looking up at the sky. She heard her mother's footsteps rush from inside the cabin and out onto the porch and looked up to see her father emerge over the hill driving the horse carriage. When he spotted his family he waved.

The dust settled and the man jumped down from the carriage to be greeted by his wife and daughter.

“What did you bring me?” his daughter shrieked in excitement.

“It’s nice to see you too,” the man said with a laugh. He kissed his wife and then reached into the back of the carriage.

He pulled out a wicker basket and set it on the ground. The little girl clasped her hands and jumped up and down in excitement. He reached into the basket and held his hand there for just a moment until he thought his daughter would burst and then pulled out a brand new doll, with shiny button eyes and a clean checkered dress, and a small tin with candies. His daughter held her new treasures in her hands and then gave her father a hug. Her father then pulled out another gift.

“This one is for your mother,” he said, and handed a beautiful metal mirror to his wife. The back of the mirror had a painting of a horse grazing next to a pond.

She held the mirror up and was startled to see the woman looking back at her, at first thinking it to be someone else, and then chuckling to herself at the idea. Being far from town and not having much money, the woman had never owned a mirror and had never seen such a clear reflection of herself before. She remembered looking into a pond when she was a girl and seeing her blonde curls spill around her face, but this was entirely different. She smiled as she looked into the mirror just as the wind blew her hair and her husband and daughter shared a look both knowing the image in the mirror must be the most beautiful site a person could behold.

“I love it,” his wife said. “It’s perfect.”

***

The moon shone cold through the window on the woman lying in bed. Every blanket in the house was piled on the bed and her husband sat next to her, holding a cool wet cloth to her forehead. The woman coughed until she couldn’t breathe. Her daughter sat across the room clutching her doll. She was terrified and couldn’t sleep.

After this last coughing fit the woman lay back and looked almost peaceful. Her skin was a pale white and appeared more so in the soft light of the full moon. She looked up and motioned for her daughter to come close.

Slowly, the little girl walked to her mother.

“Dearest,” the mother began in a soft whisper, “I am leaving soon and I will not be back. But this does not mean that I will not always love you and always be with you. You are my treasure and have filled my life with joy. Please take care of your father. You will miss me, but when you are lonely, look into my mirror and I will be with you.”

The mother took the mirror from next to the bed and handed it to the little girl. The metal was cold in her hands and she held it to her chest, still looking into her mother’s face. Slowly, her mother lay back, closed her eyes, and became still.

***

“Wake up!” the woman snapped. “I need your help in the kitchen, you have slept long enough. When I was your age this kind of sloth would not have been tolerated!”

The little girl rubbed sleep from her eyes and saw her step-mother standing over her. It was cold and the girl could hear the rain outside.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” the woman said as she turned back to her chores.

The little girl rose and slowly dressed. She stood for a long while looking at the mirror her mother had given her. She smiled and reached for it, but was jolted back into the present to another call from her step-mother.

Often over the past 3 years since her mother had died, and especially the past year since her father had re-married, the little girl would take the mirror somewhere quiet. She would sit in the corner between her bed and the wall, or take it out to the big oak tree outside, and would stare into the mirror. Whenever she did, she saw her mother’s face, not pale and sick as it was at the end, but beautiful and full of life.

The girl couldn’t bear the thought of another morning of chores, and grabbed the mirror and sat between the wall and her bed. Impatient that she had not come to the kitchen, the woman walked back to the girl and saw her looking at the mirror and grinning.

Surely she is up to some sort of devilry, the woman thought. She must be plotting all manner of terrible things. That must be some instrument of the devil she’s got. Well, I won’t stand for it.

The woman hurried out of the cabin and found her husband working in the field. She explained to him the situation. Hardly believing it he walked back to the cabin with her, but the more she talked the more convincing she sounded.

He walked into the cabin and his daughter looked up and slid the mirror quickly under the covers. Now, thinking she must be up to something if she would be so quick to hide the instrument, he confronted her.

The girl looked up surprised at her father’s accusation.

“I would never hurt someone that means so much to you, father. You are happy, and I am happy for you. I mean no harm.”

“What is it that you hid so quickly?”

“It is the mirror you gave to mother and that she gave me. She told me to look in it whenever I was lonely. When I do, which has been often, I see her face, smiling and beautiful as I remember it best.” The girl pulled the mirror out and held it up to her father. He reached for it, warm from being under the covers and in the girls hands, and looked at his reflection. A tear came to his eye and he looked to his new wife.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, trying to hold back her own tears, “I never knew, I…” She trailed off, and began to cry. Her face softened and she looked at the little girl as if for the first time. The three stood with each other in the small room as the rain gently eased up outside.