A Russian Legend

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Retold by The Legendary Connection

TLC#265

On a quiet winter’s night, long ago, in the little town of Bethlehem, something wondrous happened. Far away from Bethlehem, in a small, cozy cottage, lived an old woman named Baboushka. Her house was warm and snug, lit by the glow of a crackling fire. Outside, the wind howled through the trees, and snow swirled in the air, but Baboushka’s home was safe and bright.

“How lucky I am to be warm inside on a night like this,” she said to herself, holding her hands out to the glowing fire. She sighed contentedly, listening to the wind whistle down the chimney.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Startled, Baboushka stood up, picked up her lantern, and went to see who it could be. When she opened the door, her light revealed three travelers standing in the snow. They were elderly men with long, white beards that touched the ground. Their eyes sparkled kindly in the glow of the lantern, and they carried bundles filled with treasures—gleaming jewels, fragrant oils, and fine ointments.

“We have journeyed far, Baboushka,” said one of the men. “We bring gifts for a special child—a Baby King who was born tonight in Bethlehem. He has come to bring love and kindness to the world. Come with us and bring Him a gift, too.”

Baboushka looked past the men at the swirling snow and the dark, windy night. Then she glanced back at her warm fire and the soft chair waiting by the hearth. “It’s too late for me to travel tonight,” she said. “The snow is too heavy, and it’s too cold. But thank you for telling me.” She gently closed the door and returned to her cozy chair by the fire.

But as Baboushka sat by the warmth, rocking back and forth, she began to think of the Baby King. She loved children dearly and her heart ached at the thought of a baby lying in the cold. “Tomorrow,” she said to herself, “when the sun rises and the snow clears, I will go and find Him. I’ll bring Him some gifts of my own.”

The next morning, Baboushka dressed warmly in her long cloak and sturdy boots. She gathered her walking staff and filled a basket with little treasures a baby might love—golden balls, colorful wooden toys, and sparkling silver strings as delicate as spiderwebs. With her basket on her arm, she set out to find the Baby King.

But Baboushka had forgotten to ask the three men which road would lead her to Bethlehem. They had traveled so far through the night that there was no sign of them. She walked down one road and then another, asking every traveler she met, “Have you seen the Baby King? Where can I find Him? I have toys to bring Him.”

Each person she asked shook their head and said, “Farther on, Baboushka. Farther on.”

And so she kept walking. Through forests and fields, over hills and through villages, she hurried on, always asking, “Where is the Baby King?” But no one could tell her.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Baboushka searched and searched, but she never found the Baby King. Her heart grew heavier with each passing day, but she never gave up hope.

Some say that Baboushka is still searching for Him. Every year, on Christmas Eve, when the world is quiet and children are fast asleep in their beds, Baboushka walks through snowy fields and silent towns. Wrapped in her long cloak and carrying her basket, she taps gently on the doors of houses. If the door opens, she steps inside and holds her lantern close to the faces of sleeping children.

“Is He here?” she whispers softly. “Is the Baby King here?”

But when she sees that He is not there, she sighs deeply. “Farther on,” she says with a heavy heart. “Farther on.”

Before she leaves, she takes a small toy from her basket and places it by the child’s pillow—a gift for the child, given in the name of the Baby King. Then, with her lantern shining softly in the night, Baboushka moves on, her footprints fading in the snow as she continues her search for the Baby King.

Some say that if you listen very closely on Christmas Eve, you can hear the faint tapping of her staff on the road outside your door. And if you’re lucky, you might find a small toy waiting for you in the morning—a gift from Baboushka, still searching, still hoping to one day find the Baby King.

Original Source: “Christmas Stories and Legends.” Gutenberg.org, 2024, www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/17770/pg17770-images.html#Page_109. Accessed 20 Dec. 2024.