POVESTEA VIORELEI

Viorela's Story So many, so many, indeed, in some village, wherever it may have been, there was a poor man who had a very beautiful daughter with blue eyes, named Viorica, who was also intelligent and extremely hardworking. But if a man has no one at his home, why should he cling on? All is in vain. So the girl had saved up her earnings by working for foreigners. For a time, her father also died, and she was left alone, utterly alone, with only her chickens and the cat, and her hope in God. As for the world, if she worked, she had food; if she sewed, she had clothes. A young man tried to deceive her by saying he wanted to marry her, but from his words the girl realized he only wanted to mock her, and thus she lost even the hope—so to speak—that she might ever build a home with anyone. And, to drown out any longing, she began to love flowers and speak to them. But God, who sees all things, saw the girl's heart and granted her the gift of speaking with flowers. Since she suffers so much in the world, may she also be saved, for she earns her bread with bitterness and eats it alone, for she was a stranger, a poor and forsaken woman, unknown and unloved by anyone. Often I would fall face down on the ground, my forehead in my hands, praying, Lord, rather than have me found alone on all the holidays, rather than have everyone mock and ridicule me, it would be better if You would take me from the ground. And she said, Lord, why didn't You turn me long ago into a flower, into a weed, so that I wouldn't have to endure so many troubles? She prayed today, tomorrow, the day after, until she began to believe that even heaven had forgotten her. Dear Lord, just when a man thinks He has left him in peace, He suddenly shakes him and says, "Listen, I have come." He saw and listened, and one day He called Saint Floria, who bore the garland of flowers, and said to her, "Which flower is still missing from the earth?" Saint Florie, being a saintly woman and one who knew all the flowers and had written the story of each, put on her old-fashioned glasses, tied with a string behind her ears, and looked. She looked as long as she looked, and found that one flower was missing—the violet. Good afternoon," said the angel. "Thank you," the girl replied. "Won't you let me rest on the porch?" he asked. "Why not?" answered Viorica. And after calling the dog, the man entered the yard and sat down on the porch. Yes, the man was so clever and resourceful in his travels that he gave him food to eat there, and as they talked back and forth, they ended up in trouble, and the girl told him everything. Then the angel whispered to her, "Now you must marry." "No, no," she replied, "I will not marry." That no one else is left, that if I die poor, I'm still just a beggar, a wretch, and better off dead than living in such poverty. But what if the one above were to send someone rich? What would you say? What can I say? replied the girl. Nothing—Holy God knows what I truly desire. Do you want to be a flower? the angel said. Yes, the violet replied. I want to be a flower, and do you know what kind of flower? One that has the face of my eyes and announces to people the coming of spring. May the Holy God bless you," the angel said, blessing her with his hand. You, because of your pure soul and unblemished body, shall be called the Vine, according to your name. When he lifted it, the girl was nothing but a blue flower, and the angel stepped out through the gate and went into the world, telling people the story of the violet. The people in the village noticed the girl was missing from home. Yes, well, you bury a relative and talk about him, put a cross on his grave, but not on a stranger's. She's gone, forgotten. And from a certain point on, no one spoke of her anymore. Spring had passed, the flower had produced seeds, shaken itself, and now was withering. The angel took its soul and set off with it toward heaven, leaving behind the story to be told by those who had heard it from the angel. And thus the living ones have been on earth. Now springtime is approaching, they lift their eyes toward the sun and seem to rejoice, even after having fulfilled their earthly duty, though they have left their seeds behind on the ground. following the same law written by God in the Book of Flowers, whose story is as I have told it to you.