The Magic Swan Geese

The Magic Swan Geese

Once upon a time, a man and his wife lived with their two children: an older daughter and a little son.

One morning, the parents prepared to go to a neighboring village on business. Before leaving, the mother said to her daughter:

“Stay with your little brother today. Don’t wander far from the yard, and make sure he is never left alone. We’ll be back toward evening and bring you a treat.”

“All right, Mama,” the girl promised.

At first she faithfully stayed beside her brother. The little boy played with a wooden horse while his sister made a path out of pebbles.

But before long, she heard her friends calling from beyond the fence:

“Come to the meadow! The flowers are already blooming!”

The girl peeked through the gate.

“I’ll only go for a minute,” she told herself. “My brother can sit here. He isn’t going anywhere.”

She seated the little boy on the grass near the window and ran off to join her friends.

At that very moment, a flock of large white birds was flying over the fields. They were the magic Swan Geese who served an old mistress of the forest. They spotted the little boy, lifted him together with his light blanket, and carried him across the field toward the distant woods.

When the girl returned, the yard was empty.

“Little brother!” she called.

Silence.

She looked behind the house, under the bench, in the garden, and even inside the storehouse. No one was there.

Then she caught sight of white wings flashing across the sky.

The girl remembered the stories people told about the Swan Geese who flew to the dark forest.

Her heart tightened.

“I promised to look after him,” she whispered. “So I will bring him home.”

And she ran after them.

The road led her to an old oven standing all by itself in the middle of a field. Rye pies were browning inside.

“Oven, oven, tell me where the Swan Geese flew!”

The oven replied:

“Taste one of my rye pies, and then I’ll tell you.”

The girl wrinkled her nose.

“Rye? We have wheat pies at home. I don’t have time to eat.”

And she ran on.

Soon she came to an apple tree. Small woodland apples hung from its branches.

“Apple tree, apple tree, did you see the Swan Geese?”

“Eat one of my apples, and then I’ll tell you,” rustled the tree.

“It’s so small, and probably sour,” said the girl. “I’m in a hurry.”

And she ran on again.

Farther ahead flowed a river of milk between soft banks of sweet berry jelly.

“River, river, where did the Swan Geese fly?”

“Taste a spoonful of my jelly, and then I’ll show you the way.”

But the girl refused once more.

“I can’t stop!”

She ran farther and farther until the path suddenly split into three. To the right lay a marsh, to the left stood a dense fir forest, and straight ahead rose a wall of dark bushes.

The girl did not know where to go.

Just then, Hedgehog poked his nose out of the grass.

“Why are you in such a hurry?”

The girl told him about her little brother.

“I’ll show you the way,” said Hedgehog. “Go through the fir trees, and then you’ll see a hut. But remember: in the forest, even a small kindness has value. What seems plain is not always worse.”

“Thank you, Hedgehog,” the girl said, this time with real gratitude.

Beyond the fir trees stood a hut exactly as he had said. Swan Geese strutted around the yard, and near the window sat her little brother, passing golden apples from one hand to the other.

Inside the hut, an old woman with a sharp nose and grey hair tied beneath a scarf was bustling about. People called her Baba Yaga. She was stern and did not like uninvited visitors.

The girl hid behind a tree.

When the old woman went into the pantry, the sister ran to her little brother.

“Quietly. I’ve come to take you home.”

The little boy immediately reached out his arms to her.

The girl picked him up and ran back along the path.

The Swan Geese saw them escaping and took to the air.

Honk, honk, honk!

The beating wings came closer and closer.

The girl reached the milk river.

“River, river, hide us!”

The river bubbled softly:

“Will you taste my jelly now?”

This time the girl did not argue.

“Gladly, and thank you.”

She tasted a spoonful of jelly and gave her little brother a tiny taste too.

Then the river opened a shelter near its bank, and the tall reeds bent over the children like a green curtain.

The Swan Geese flew past without seeing them.

The children climbed out and ran on.

Before long, white wings appeared over the road again.

The girl hurried to the apple tree.

“Apple tree, apple tree, hide us!”

“Will you taste one of my apples?”

“Of course. Thank you.”

She took a bite. The apple was tart-sweet and wonderfully juicy.

The apple tree lowered its thick branches and covered the children with leaves, and once again the Swan Geese flew past.

“I thought your apples were bad without even tasting them,” the girl whispered. “I’m sorry.”

The leaves rustled softly, as though the apple tree were smiling.

The girl and her brother ran toward the field.

Home was very close now when the Swan Geese appeared for the third time.

“Oven, oven, help us!”

“Will you taste one of my rye pies?”

“I will. And I won’t say anymore that a simple treat is worse than a fancy one.”

She ate a piece of the warm pie. It smelled of grain and freshly baked dough.

The oven opened its door, revealing a warm little nook where the children could hide. The Swan Geese circled over the field, found nothing, and turned back toward the forest.

Then the girl took her brother by the hand.

“Come on. Let’s go home. I won’t leave you again.”

They arrived just in time.

The sun was already touching the treetops when they heard their parents’ voices outside the gate.

Their mother smiled when she saw both children together, but quickly noticed that her daughter looked unusually serious.

“What happened?”

The girl did not make excuses. She told them everything: how she had run off to her friends, how her little brother had disappeared, how she had searched for him, and how the oven, the apple tree, the river, and Hedgehog had helped them return home.

The parents listened in silence.

“You acted carelessly when you left your brother alone,” said her father. “But you did the right thing when you told the truth and worked to correct your mistake.”

Their mother hugged both children.

“Remember: responsibility cannot be put aside ‘just for a minute.’”

The girl nodded.

From then on, she became much more attentive. She also stopped making faces when someone offered her something simple. She knew now that sometimes a little woodland apple, a piece of rye pie, or a spoonful of jelly could be exactly the kindness that helped when it was needed most.

And whenever white Swan Geese flew high above the fields, she held her little brother’s hand a little more tightly and smiled at him.

From then on, they always came home together.

From then on, they always came home together.