A final word

“Show it to me then,” said the king, “for I am he.”

The king marveled at the beautiful cloth. “What do you want for this?” he asked.

“Nothing, sire. It is a gift,” she replied.

The king was very pleased and ordered that his shirts be cut from the cloth. But there was no seamstress in the kingdom skilled enough to work with such material. So the king returned the cloth to the old woman. He declared that only the person who created the cloth would be skilled enough to cut and sew it. “It is the work of the maiden who lives in my house,” the old woman told him.

“Then she must make the shirts,” said the king.

The old woman took the linen back to Vasilissa, who set about her task immediately. When the shirts were finished, they were sent to the king. Vasilissa then bathed and combed her hair, for she knew that the king would have to meet this unique seamstress. Sure enough, a messenger came and she was summoned to the palace.

You know the rest, I believe. As soon as the king saw Vasilissa, he fell in love with her. Of course, he asked her to be his bride. So Vasilissa the Fair became queen, and she and those she loved lived happily all their days. And she carried the little doll with her, in her pocket, always.

Vasilissa charms the king.

Every literate people has books and anthologies that are treasured as national heirlooms. The tale of Vasilissa the Fair is such a story. Vasilissa may not have been a real person, but she is as familiar to the Russian people as any great leader or hero in our history. This is the power of the folktale.

In the nineteenth century, Aleksandr Afanasyev recorded and published stories that had been told, in various and evolving guises, throughout Russia for centuries.