Mama's Daughter

In a village, there lived a husband and wife. They had only one daughter. They loved and cherished her so much, doting on her, that the neighbors nicknamed her "Mama's Little Girl." The mother and father worked tirelessly from morning till night, while their daughter did nothing. In the morning, she would lounge in bed for a long time. When she got tired of lying around, her mother would come to her, braid her hair, feed her with a spoon like a little child, and then spread a soft rug by the hearth so her daughter could sit there, swaying from side to side, and doze off. When she got cold, she would say just one word:

"Pull me closer!"

Hearing this, her father and mother would rush to her, lift her by the arms, and sit her closer to the fire. When she got too hot, she would lazily say another word:

"Push me away!"

And the old couple would move her farther from the hearth.

This went on day after day, until Mama's Little Girl grew up and became a bride. Suitors began to visit. The bride's mother would greet them with these words:

"We'll give her to you, why not, but know this—she is our only daughter. She needs care. Can you take care of her as we do?"

And she would tell them how their daughter loved to doze by the hearth, how they would move her closer or farther from the fire, and how they fed her with a spoon.

"This girl is not for us!" the suitors would say, shaking their heads, and they would leave.

Many suitors came, but none dared to take Mama's Little Girl as a bride. Then one day, a young man arrived—clearly a hard worker, with calloused hands and a shirt soaked with sweat. He came straight from the field.

When the mother told him about her daughter, he replied:

"That's exactly the kind of wife I need. We'll live like lovebirds. I'll carry her in my arms, just give her to me."

"Very well," the old couple agreed. They pulled their beloved daughter away from the stove, took off her dirty dress, dressed her in a wedding gown, and seated her in a cart.

The young man took the bride to his home, seated her on a mat near the hearth, went to the shed, chopped some firewood, brought it inside, and lit the fire.

As soon as the logs caught fire and the young bride got too hot, she shouted:

"Push me away!"

But the groom scratched his head, pretended not to hear, and went outside. The logs burned even hotter.

"Push me away!" Mama's Little Girl squealed, as the flames licked her stocking. But seeing no one around, she jumped up herself and rushed to the door. Luckily, she thought to dunk the smoldering stocking in a large wooden dog's drinking bowl, or she might have burned her foot.

It was late autumn. A cold wind was blowing. The bride sat for a while and grew so cold that her teeth began to chatter.

"Pull me closer!" she shouted once. "Pull me closer!" she shouted a second time, and realizing no one was listening, she got up and shuffled over to the hearth herself.

There was no one to cook dinner, so the young couple went to bed hungry.

The next day, the young husband rose at dawn and began to scold the mattress on which his hungry wife lay:

"Listen, mattress, I'm going to plow the fields, and you prepare lunch. Leave half for my wife and bring the other half to the field. But don't be late, or my stick will dance on your back."

The plowman went off to work, and his wife lay there, lounging. When lunchtime came, she said to the mattress:

"Get up, mattress, didn't you hear what my husband told you? Make some food, or I'll starve to death." But the mattress remained silent.

"Well, you're in for it now!" the young bride threatened and moved closer to the fire.

In the evening, the plowman returned, cold and hungry.

"Hey, mattress, why didn't you bring me lunch?" he shouted. "Wife, why didn't you remind him?" he scolded her.

"I told him, husband, but he pretended to be deaf and didn't listen to me," the young bride defended herself.

Then the hungry plowman grabbed the mattress, threw it on his wife's back, and began to beat it with a stick.

"Ow, ow, ow, husband," she cried, "you're beating the mattress, but it hurts me!"

"Endure it, wife, endure it! I'm beating it so it will listen to you," the plowman said and began to hit it even harder.

Again, they went to bed hungry. On the third day, the same thing happened. On the fourth day, Mama's Little Girl, seeing that the mattress lay there doing nothing, got up, rolled up her sleeves, cleaned the house, cooked a pot of beans, baked a loaf of bread, changed her clothes, pinned a flower in her hair, and took lunch to the field. The young couple sat down and ate well.

"Finally, the mattress listened to me," the husband said, satisfied.

"Listened? It didn't budge! It just lounged by the fire."

"Then who made the lunch?"

"I did!"

"If that's the case, throw the mattress out when you get home! I don't want to see it anymore."

That evening, the young plowman, seeing how clean and tidy the house was, said to his wife:

"Don't let the mattress lounge by the fire anymore, or my stick will dance again."

"I won't let it in the house," the young bride replied. "Otherwise, my back will turn blue again. I don't want to suffer because of a lazy mattress."

And so the young couple lived. The plowman worked in the field, and his wife took care of the house. One day, her mother came to visit and began shouting from afar:

"I decided, my dear daughter, to see how you're living. Are you doing well here? Does your husband take care of you? Does he feed you with a spoon? Does he move you closer to the fire or push you away when you're hot?"

"Oh, Mama, if only you knew what happened to me," the daughter began to tell her. "We had a nasty mattress, so lazy you wouldn't believe it. Every day my husband beat it with a stick, but it pretended not to understand a word."

And the young bride told her mother everything.

"Oh, is that so!" the mother fumed. "So he makes you cook and clean the whole house? Are these delicate hands meant for a broom, my sweet, darling child? Oh, how unlucky you are with your husband. You won't live in this house anymore. Where's your dowry, daughter? Pack your things quickly, and let's go."

"Where will we go, Mama?" the daughter asked.

"Home. I'll take care of you as I used to. I won't let you break your back with work here."

The young bride was used to obeying her mother. She gathered her dowry, tied it in a bundle, loaded it on her mother's back, and they set off. Just as they stepped outside, the plowman was returning from the field.

"Where are you taking her?" he blocked the mother-in-law's path.

"I'm taking her away from you. You've worn her out with work, and she's not used to such a life."

"Return home immediately, before I pick up my stick!" the plowman shouted and forced the women to turn back.

They entered the house.

"Set the table, I'm as hungry as a wolf!" the husband ordered his wife. "Pour soup into two bowls and bring the bread."

The young bride obediently poured soup into two bowls and brought a golden loaf of bread. The husband took the loaf, broke it in two, handed one half to his wife, and said:

"Eat!"

"What about me?" the mother asked.

"You?" the son-in-law turned to her. "For your golden tongue, which teaches my wife not to work, you get a different kind of food."

The plowman got up from the table, went to the hayloft, stuffed a sack with straw, then hung it around his mother-in-law's neck, and said:

"Eat!"

The mother turned green with anger, jumped up, threw the sack, and shouted:

"My foot will never step into your house again! Mark my words!"

The mother slammed the door and ran down the road.

When she returned home, she shouted to her husband:

"Take a switch and bring my daughter back. I taught her to be a lady, and she's become a servant. Go, don't delay!"

The father gathered himself and went to his daughter. He asked her about her life, understood what was happening, and said:

"My dear daughter, I came to take you back, but I see it's better for you to stay with your husband. Do your work, and don't come home. Your mother and I are getting old; it's time for us to prepare for the next world. No one will move you away from the hearth—you might burn up. Is your work hard?"

"No, Father, I'm healthy and young; I can handle everything."

"Then work, my child, help your husband, and don't listen to your mother's advice. Now go, greet your hardworking husband with kind words, help him unyoke the oxen, and take them to the barn."

The young bride jumped up and ran to the yard. The plowman saw his wife waiting for him, was surprised, and asked:

"Who sent you? You've never greeted me before."

"Father," the young bride replied, "he came to visit us."

The delighted plowman entered the house, greeted his father-in-law, sat him at the table, fed him, gave him drink, put him to sleep on a soft bed, and in the morning draped a fur coat over his shoulders and warmly accompanied the old man to the edge of the village.

The old woman came out to the gates to meet her husband and, seeing him from afar in the fur coat, began to wail:

"Oh, oh, oh, old man, what has that cursed son-in-law of ours done? He made me eat straw and beat you so badly he skinned you alive!"

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Mama's Daughter

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