Miracles Can Happen
Princess Peony
By Yael Sofer
Across the sea, in a faraway country, there lived a king and a queen who had only one daughter. Her name was Peony. She had pale blue eyes and the most beautiful red hair with curls. The people of the country loved the king and the queen very much, and they especially loved princess Peony.
One day, Peony became sick with a mysterious illness. The king and queen immediately called the palace doctor and he prescribed, “A little bit of hyssop, thyme and garlic, mixed with honey, mustard, calendula and an onion peel. Cook it with buckwheat and crocus flowers and eat it three times a day.”
They tried the doctor’s remedy, but it didn't help. So the king and queen called for every doctor and wizard in the kingdom to come and prescribe the cure for Peony’s illness:
One recommended, “Cold showers!”
A second one said, "Only vegetables and fruits."
And a third one announced, "Only porridge and hot showers, and she must stand on her head once a day."
But none of these things helped. Peony was still very ill. Growing weaker, she lay down in her bed and closed her pale blue eyes.
Then, the king sent for an expert on mysterious illnesses who lived in a nearby kingdom. The expert arrived. He was very short with a long white beard, and he carried an old black briefcase. The expert looked at Peony and checked her pulse.
"Peony suffers from sadness,” announced the expert. “To make her happy, an unusual remedy is needed. You must bring Peony the most beautiful melody in the world."
Then, he closed his briefcase and left.
Immediately, the king and queen called for the messenger to ride a horse all over the country, and announce: “Attention! Attention! The most beautiful melody in the world is needed for princess Peony. Whoever brings the princess the most beautiful melody, will marry her.”
That same day, many musicians with different instruments came from all over the kingdom to the palace court.
"We must have complete silence in the palace court and all over the kingdom so Peony can hear the melody," said the king and queen.
"We will walk on tiptoes," said the servants.
"We will use sign language to tell people what we are selling," winked the merchants at the market.
"We will whisper and we will not quarrel," said the children softly to each other.
The following day, the gates of the palace were opened and the servants were careful to let the musicians enter Peony's room one at a time.
First, a fiddler entered with a violin in his hand. "I will cure Peony with a melody on the violin, for it is the most noble of all the musical instruments," announced the fiddler. He pulled out a bow made of fine horse's tail, and played a beautiful melody on the strings. But Peony remained lying down.
"You didn't succeed, Mr. Fiddler," said the palace doctor, and the fiddler left, disappointed.
A flutist came in the room immediately after him. "I will cure Peony, for the melody of the flute is as clear and fresh as mountain air," he explained. He played a melody on the flute that traveled out the window to the courtyard, and everyone in the palace stopped to listen to the sweet melody. But Peony still remained lying down.
"The flute doesn’t help!" announced the doctor, and the flutist sadly returned to the court.
Next, four servants came in the room carrying a piano and behind them entered the pianist. "I will cure Peony,” he announced confidently, “for my melody is the most exciting." He played the black and white keys with so much emotion that the sounds traveled out the window, past the courtyard, and into the streets. Indeed, all the residents of the kingdom were very touched.
But the queen who was sitting beside the princess said, "You must stop because you are making Peony cry!"
The pianist left quickly with all four servants and the piano.
All of a sudden, a tall young man entered the room dressed in a strange-looking black coat. But the strangest thing was that his hands were empty; he was not carrying an instrument.
"Who are you?" asked the king.
"I am a conductor, Your Excellency. And I know which melody will cure the princess," he said smiling at the king.
"But what do you use to play your music?" asked the king.
"If you let me go out to the court for a moment, I will return with the most beautiful melody in the world," the conductor replied.
The king, who had already given up on any of the other solutions, allowed him to go. "Fine, go out and come back quickly, for it seems that Peony's condition is getting worse."
Not even a minute passed, and the conductor returned. And with him came the fiddler, the flutist, the pianist, and the piano. Everyone stood there embarrassed.
"These are the musicians that you brought?" shouted the king.
Now, the king was losing his patience, and the doctor quickly signaled them to leave.
"Just a moment," said the conductor. "I know what happened in this room and that is why I am here. Your Highness, we have to save Princess Peony!"
All of a sudden, the queen said, "Let him try."
And the king agreed.
The young conductor gathered the musicians, whispered something, and waited. When there was absolute silence in the kingdom, the conductor lifted up his hands and all the musicians started playing a beautiful and clear melody together; soft and fluent, high and exciting, a melody that had everything in it − a melody that was almost perfect. The conductor continued to signal and all the musicians followed him, until, at last, a wonderful new sound was heard.
To everyone’s astonishment, Peony opened her eyes, sat up and joined the musicians, singing, “La la la la la.”
At that very moment, the most beautiful melody in the world was heard.
The expert from the nearby kingdom was right, and Peony indeed recovered. The king and the queen invited the young conductor to live in the palace and the musicians remained to play in the king's orchestra.
One day, Peony whispered to her mother," Although he wears a strange coat, the conductor is wise, handsome, and very talented. I would like to marry him."
And so it was that seven days later, a magnificent wedding was held in the palace and all the residents of the kingdom were invited.
"There is still one thing that makes me very curious,” the king said to the conductor. “What was the secret that you whispered in the musicians' ears on the day you cured Peony?"
The conductor smiled. "The secret is very simple,” he said. “I told them that instead of playing their music separately, we would all play together in harmony… as one man.
A House That No One Lived In
By Ludmila Zolotareva
Once upon time, in a little village far away, there was an enormous old house with high stone walls and a magnificent doorway. But unlike all the other houses in the village, this house was cold and unwelcoming. Its windows were sealed tight, the doors were locked, and it had been a very long time since anyone had set foot inside. All the other houses in the village were filled with happy families, but no one lived in this house. The house was completely deserted.
Every day as people of the village walked by, they would stop to stare and whisper, “What a strange old house standing there all alone, so big and empty!”
The house was puzzled. “What do they want from me?” it wondered. “I just stand here, not bothering anyone. Why do they stare? Is the paint on my window sills peeling? Are my hinges getting rusty?”
The house had once been beautifully furnished, and now everything remained neatly arranged; there were plenty of dishes in the kitchen, crystal glasses and antique silverware in the dining room, neatly made beds in the guest rooms, and a tablecloth on every table. But the house was very quiet—too quiet! The heavy curtains that covered the windows blocked out most of the sun, making the house dark and dreary inside.
Occasionally, the dinner table tried to cheer up the dishes. “Go on, plates, line up in a row,” it said.
“Why?” they would ask. “Who is going to fill us with food?”
“Candles, come down from the shelves!” the table ordered.
“Why? Who will light us?” the candles responded.
Finally, the table turned to the beautiful chandelier in the dining room. “Chandelier, light up the house!” it said. “You have more light bulbs than anyone can count.”
“But there is no one to turn me on,” the chandelier replied. “And even if I could turn myself on, who would see?”
At last, it was so dull and dreary in that house that there was nothing left to do but quarrel. The spoons argued with the forks about which were more important. The staircase creaked grumpily at the carpet for being too dusty. The sink was mad at the faucet for not pouring water. Even the little desk lamp quarreled with the chandelier.
The house looked around sadly and realized that something must be done. But what? What was it to do? Suddenly, the house had an idea.
“I will ask the fireplace,” it decided. “The fireplace is very wise because it was built before everything else.”
But the fireplace was sound asleep, so the house tried to shout through the chimney to wake it up. Alas, it only succeeded in spilling soot all over the place. The fireplace remained asleep, but the stubborn house didn’t give up.
“Dishes!” the house exclaimed, “Let’s try to wake up the fireplace! I’m sure it will know what to do. Make as much noise as you can!”
Immediately, the dishes began to rattle. Soon the others joined in: the candlesticks clinked, the forks and spoons clanked, the chandelier chimed, and even the beds jumped up and down on their legs. Together, they made such a banging, rattling, clanging noise that the birds nesting on the rooftop flew away.
Finally, the fireplace woke up. “You must be in pretty bad shape,” it said to the house, yawning. “Why else would you go to such trouble to wake me up?”
“We need your advice,” the house said. “Something is terribly wrong, but we don’t know what.”
“It is quite simple,” the fireplace replied. “I’m surprised you don’t know.”
“What is it? Tell us!” the house demanded.
“There is a golden rule: you must share your warmth with others. Look at me. When my fire is burning, I don’t hold on to the warmth. I share it with others. Every other house in the village gives warmth and comfort to its family, but you’re standing there all alone refusing to share with anyone. This is why you’re sad, and this is why you quarrel amongst yourselves.”
The house was shocked, but it had to agree that the fireplace was right. It decided that this golden rule had to be adopted by everyone. The very next morning it threw back the curtains and opened all of its windows to air out the rooms. The mirrors were so happy—for the first time in years, they were reflecting the sunlight! And miraculously, all the quarreling stopped.
“Mops, rags, and dusters! Wash the floors and clear the cobwebs! Faucet, give them water!” the house sang out.
Soon the house was clean and sparkling.
“Dinner table! Get ready to welcome our guests!” announced the house.
Immediately, the plates lined up on a snow-white tablecloth, and next to them the forks, knives, and spoons neatly took their places. The dinner table wanted to dance for joy, but it stood very still so that it would not drop anything.
When dinner time came, the house opened its doors wide for guests. Never before had people seen such a beautiful and welcoming home. As they peered inside, the people of the village realized that they were actually expected to come inside.
“Look!” they exclaimed, “dinner is served!”
So it was that all of the villagers spent a wonderful evening together in the enormous old house, sharing stories and singing songs.
From then on, the house was always welcoming, sharing its warmth and comfort with others. And it wasn’t long before a happy family moved in.
The house never forgot who had given it such a wonderful gift, and late at night when the family is asleep the house whispers, “Thank you, wise old fireplace. I will never forget your advice. How great it is to give warmth to others!”
Drawings by Irina Bondarenko
Miracles Can Happen!
By Michael Brushtein
There once was a boy named Pete. Although he seemed like an ordinary boy, Pete was really a very unusual boy. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to play and ride his bike like all his friends. What made Pete special was that he only believed in things he could see, touch, or taste. While his friends never thought to question anything that they learned, Pete was skeptical about anything that he could not prove. He had serious doubts about electricity, since he couldn’t actually see it. He even had doubts about the Earth being round, since all around him he could only see flat land.
Other children often talked about a magical wizard that lived in an enchanted garden outside of town. Many stories were told about how this wizard would make people’s wishes come true. But Pete did not believe it. Pete had seen magicians. He had watched them pull rabbits out of their hats, make coins disappear, and even fly all the way up to the ceiling. But magicians will tell you themselves that every trick is an illusion. With a lot of practice and a quick hand, they are able to make their tricks look real even when they’re not. Pete knew very well that there was no such thing as a wizard. “How silly!” he thought. “Wizards aren’t real, they only exist in fairytales.”