The Three Spinners

The Three Spinners

Once upon a time, there lived a girl who did not like spinning at all. Her mother had shown her many times how to hold the distaff, draw out an even thread, and turn the wheel, but the daughter could never learn to enjoy the work.

One day, her mother lost patience and began scolding the girl loudly. The daughter grew upset and began to cry.

At that very moment, the queen happened to be driving past the house. She heard the crying, stopped her carriage, and asked:

“What has happened? Why is the girl crying?”

The mother felt embarrassed to admit that they had quarreled about spinning. Without thinking, she said the exact opposite of the truth:

“My daughter loves spinning so much that she refuses to leave the wheel even for a moment. But I am poor and cannot give her as much flax as she wants.”

The queen’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, I value skillful spinners very highly! There is plenty of flax in my palace. Let your daughter come with me.”

And so the mother’s careless boasting carried the girl straight to the royal palace.

The queen led her to three large rooms. From floor to ceiling, all three were filled with flax.

“Here is your work,” said the queen. “If you spin all this into fine thread, I will be very pleased with your skill. And my son, the prince, may decide for himself whether he wishes to marry you. Wealth and birth matter less to me than honesty and the ability to see a task through.”

The girl looked at the mountains of flax and nearly sank to the floor in despair.

She could barely manage a small distaff, and here were three entire rooms.

The first day, she only walked from one heap of flax to another, wondering where to begin. On the second day, she tried to spin, but the thread kept breaking or coming out uneven. On the third day, she went to the window and whispered:

“If only I could take back Mama’s words…”

Just then, she saw three unfamiliar women walking along the road toward the palace.

The first had a very broad foot. The second had an unusually large lower lip. The third had a broad thumb.

The women stopped beneath the window.

“Why are you so sad?” the first asked.

The girl honestly told them everything: the quarrel at home, her mother’s invented story, and the three rooms full of flax.

The three women looked at one another.

“We can help you,” said the second. “We have spun all our lives, and we know the work well.”

“But we have one condition,” added the third. “If the day of your wedding comes, do not be ashamed of us. Call us your aunts, invite us to the table, and treat us with respect.”

The girl smiled with relief.

“I promise. If you rescue me from this trouble, I will never pretend I do not know you.”

The three spinners entered the first room and began to work.

The first worked the treadle with her foot, and the wheel hummed evenly.

The second skillfully moistened the thread so it would not break.

The third twisted the fibers with her thumb, producing fine, strong yarn.

They worked so quickly and smoothly that it seemed they had spent their whole lives as a single team.

Before long, the first room was empty. Then the second. Soon, in the third room, neat skeins of thread lay where the flax had been.

The queen could hardly believe her eyes.

“What work!” she said. “Everything is finished!”

The girl blushed. She knew she had not done the spinning herself, but she remembered her promise to the women who had helped her.

Time passed. The girl and the prince often talked and walked through the palace garden, getting to know each other better and better. The prince liked that she did not boast about wealth and could admit when she did not know something. The girl liked that he listened to her opinions and did not demand that she become like someone else.

When they decided to marry, preparations began for a festive banquet.

“I have three aunts,” the girl told the queen and the prince. “They helped me greatly when I was in trouble. I want them to sit at the table with us.”

“Of course,” replied the prince. “You do not forget people who have done you good.”

On the wedding day, the three spinners came to the palace. The girl welcomed them warmly, seated them in places of honor, and introduced them to everyone as her dear aunts.

The prince noticed the first woman’s unusual foot and asked politely:

“Forgive my curiosity. Why is your foot so broad?”

“From many years at the spinning wheel,” she replied. “Day after day, I pressed the treadle.”

Then the prince noticed the second spinner’s unusual lip.

“And your lip?”

“For many years, I moistened the thread while spinning,” she explained.

Finally, he asked the third:

“And your thumb?”

“From endlessly twisting thread,” said the third spinner.

The prince thought for a moment.

“So the same work, if someone must do it without rest for an entire lifetime, can wear a person down terribly.”

He turned to his bride.

“You do not have to sit at a spinning wheel merely because someone once decided it was the only proper work for you. Find something you can do well and responsibly.”

The girl smiled, but this time she decided to tell the whole truth.

“Then I must admit one more thing. My hands did not spin those three rooms of flax. My aunts did. I only promised never to forget their help.”

The hall fell silent.

The queen looked surprised, then sighed.

“That is what comes of words that are not truthful. Your mother praised you for a skill you did not have, and you were afraid to explain the truth at once.”

“Yes,” the girl replied. “I should have told the truth sooner.”

The prince looked at the great piles of beautiful yarn and then at the three skilled women.

“Then today we are celebrating not only a wedding, but also the true mastery of the people who did the work.”

The three spinners laughed, and the girl thanked them in front of everyone.

From then on, every good piece of work at the palace was credited to the person who had truly done it. The girl learned not to promise what she could not do, not to be ashamed to ask for help, and always to remember those who had supported her in a difficult moment.

And the spinning wheel? It continued to hum in the palace, but only in the hands of those who had chosen the craft for themselves and knew when it was time to rest.

And the spinning wheel? It continued to hum in the palace, but only in the hands of those who had chosen the craft for themselves and knew when it was time to rest.