Showing posts with label folktaleweek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label folktaleweek. Show all posts

Monday, November 30, 2020

#FolktaleWeek2020 - Day 7 Picks: Dance (last day)

by Ruth Burrows (@ruthburrowsillustration)
The last day of the challenge and I’m celebrating by showing a traditional Morris Dancer. Lincolnshire has a strong history of performing this old English folk dance, with teams around the county still competing at the Lincoln Big Morris Festival. -- The earliest known and surviving English written mention of Morris dance is dated to 1448 and records the payment of seven shillings to Morris dancers by the Goldsmiths' Company in London.

 We have reached the end of #FolktaleWeek2020!

The last day's prompt is DANCE and there are some lovely creations being posted. 

Unfortunately for the event, Instagram (where the event is hosted and concentrated) was blocking recent posts for any hashtag searches beyond approximately nine entries "to help prevent the spread of possible false information and harmful content related to the election" which made it difficult to see all the entries, and especially difficult to find new artists joining the event. It's been quite the treasure hunt to find these gems all tucked away into various corners of the internet!

The event is such a wonderful way for people to discover both new art and artists, but also fairy tales, and folktales they didn't yet know too. Our favorite aspect would have to be the artists and creatives who planned in advance to participate and dug into their research, finding unfamiliar tales to use centered on each of the prompts. We've seen many folks discover tales this way, while we've seen other people create their own. We can't think of another fairy tale and folktale-focused event that has this effect! That this is so widespread across the world, includes people from all backgrounds and experiences, and is so incredibly supportive of everyone participating as well, is one of those "fairy tales bring people together" sort of dreams and we are SO here for it!

Enjoy our picks (a LOT today!) for "DANCE".

by Meldavnh (@meldavnh)
This time the story is from Aceh. A man dreams of meeting his sibling who has died of treason. He dreamed that he was told how to summon a white elephant for offering to a daughter who really liked it. The elephant was called but still didn't want to move and instead sat still like a stone. He did everything he could to get the elephant to follow him, but all failed. He almost gave up until finally he started dancing around moving his body in such a way. And what happened? The elephant started to move along with the dance. Then he began to lead the elephant with a dance towards the princess.
by Timidite.art
by Yevgeniya Troitskaya
′′ Vasilisa the wise drinks from the cup - does not finish, the remains pouring for her left sleeve. Eats a fried swan - throws bones behind his right sleeve. -- The wives of the eldest Tsarevich saw this - and there: what they do not finish - they pour into the sleeve, what they do not finish - they put in another one. And why, why - they don't know it themselves. -- As guests stood up from the table, music played, dancing began. Vasilisa Wise went to dance with Ivan Tsarevich. Waved my left sleeve - became a lake, waved right - white swans swam across the lake. The king and all the guests were surprised. And when she stopped dancing, everything disappeared: both the lake and swans."
by Martin Wills Illustrator
Folktale Week Day 7 Dance.....An interesting variation for my last post for Folktale Week. There is an opinion held that my favourite ballet Swan Lake was derived from the Russian folktale The White Duck.
by Eleonora Asparuhova (@elleasparuhova)
‘Dance with me, my love!’ - Last day of @folktaleweek - (Winter) Dance -- Thank you so much for the incredible challenge for yet another year! It’s been a pleasure!
by Cynthia Cliff Art (@ceecliff_art)
Folktale Week Day 7: DANCE. We made it! And just like in a children’s tale—when evil is conquered, a lesson is learned, or the day is won—we can celebrate with dance! And we did win too! So much creativity and joyful art was made and shared this week, it was a win for us all. I patterned my dancers after medieval mummers, who traditionally performed in dances and plays in masked costumes to celebrate holidays and were very popular at Christmas time. I didn’t go into specific stories this year for folktale week, instead choosing a medieval-ish theme and folklore snippets. It was fun being in that world for a week. 
by Big Mama Moon Badge Co
Every culture has folktales of dance and a lot include fire. Whether it's used to signify passion, cleansing, ritual or entering altered states, it certainly creates dynamic folk stories! 
by Diane Crotty
DANCE. I have always loved the story of Baba Yaga and her house on chicken legs. Here they are, having a hoodie
by Katrin Dreiling (@dreiling_katrin)
Final piece for Folktaleweek, ‘dance’. It’s an Icelandic tale about the invisible huldufolk and their queen
by Scott Keenan Illustration (@scottkeenanillo)
“Meanwhile, nearby, slippers made of iron were heated over to the wicked queen with tongs, and placed at her feet. Then she was made to walk in those red hot shoes, and to dance in them. And she did so until she fell to the ground, dead.”  
by Maria Mola (@madoucepatrie)
“Blanche’s friends are long gone...but next 24 of December in the northern woods of Lapland, the old Christmas fairy will be protecting the kids of the Earth... shushing ‘believe’ while they sleep.“ 

by Lisa Rush (@LisaRus64043392)
#FolktaleWeek2020 Day 7 prompt word dance - Nutcracker
by Sojung Kim-McCarthy (@creativesojung)
Rabbit & Turtle -- Dragon King of the South Sea fell gravely ill & no medicine worked for him. One last thing the doctor suggested was a rabbit’s liver. So a turtle was sent on a perilous journey onto the land and into the woods to get a rabbit. -- The poor turtle was ordered to shuttle the rabbit back to land and bring the liver. The moment they arrived on the shore, the rabbit ran into the woods calling the turtle all sorts of names, and was never to be found. -- The turtle knew he would be killed if he went back empty-handed, so he picked up some rabbit poo and presented it to the king. The king took the precious medicine the turtle brought and soon recovered. 
by Bella Park (@crown_bellflower)
This is a story from Korean tradition mask dance from Bongsan region! The lions are sent by buda to punish the corrupt monks but when they beg for forgiveness and promises to change, they dance a happy dance together!
by Marta Dorado (@martadorado)
(7/7 of a new story) DANCE: A great ball was organized in the palace to celebrate that booming time. Meanwhile, not far from there, a much older dance was taking place, and a great grey wolf was leading the way.
by Anne-Marie Farrell (@farrell_annemarie)
Folkale week: Dance. 2020 was the year Her dreams were gone to pot A socially-distanced ROYAL BALL! -- Alas I kid you not. -- Prince Charming flossed, his hair he tossed Whilst Cinders rolls her eyes She’s not a fan of Zoom you see, -- Which ought not to surprise.
by Sam Rudd Design (@samrudddesign)
Day 7- dancing- folktale week- the Twelve Dancing Princesses by the brothers Grimm
by Anastasiya (@S_E_R_P_R_E_K_A)
by Kamila Stankiewicz (@st.kamila)
There lived a woman with two girls. One of them was her daughter (lazy and unpleasant as her mother), the second one was her stepdaughter (sweet and kind, no surprises). The stepmother wanted to get rid of the second one. she sent her for a night to a haunted house in the neighborhood. But against the expectations, the stepdaughter got back another day. not only in one piece but also in rich clothes, with a lot of jewelry and a big chest full of treasures. Her relatives were curious how did it happen? Isn't the house haunted? It is!- the girl confirmed.- When the sun went down, the rooms of the old house turned into chambers, and a very handsome, young cavalier asked me for a dance. But there was something wrong with him. He wanted to dance even though he was limping. (In Polish tale she asked: Kosmo dzieweczka, choć do taneczka!)
I told him, I can't dance with him-my clothes are old and full of holes. He only slammed with the whip, and a lot of whimsical, beautiful dresses were around me. At this moment I knew who he was. He insistent to start dancing. But I asked him for earnings, gloves, necklaces, fans, a lot of things but my ideas were gone, and it was only midnight and he was getting nervous. Then I saw a bucket with holes. Go to the river and bring me water, I have to wash my face. Then I'll be ready to dance. He went right away, but when was back, the whole water from the bucket was gone. So he went again and again. Finally, I heard a rooster. After its crow, the cavalier disappeared, like all palace chambers. The house was old and ruined again. But all of his gifts remained. The same evening the stepmother sent her daughter to a ruined house. She was sure that she will get even more gifts and treasures. And everything went the same as the previous night. The handsome cavalier showed up again, wanted to dance, and gave the girl all that she wanted. But before midnight, she didn't have more ideas anymore. I have even more goods than my sister. I can dance with him, why not? And they dancer. Quicker and quicker... He lost his shoe, and instead of his foot, the girl saw a black hoof. She understood, that it was a devil itself, but too late. After a rooster's crawling, the man disappeared again. But the girl didn't get back home. It was afternoon already, and stepmother still waited for her daughter to come. She decided to go to the house herself. She saw her daughter in a window from a distance and got even angrier. I wait for her impatiently, and she sits there with a spoon in her mouth and probably eats scrambled eggs, as nothing happened! But all her anger was gone when she entered the room. There was only her daughter's head on a window sill. Nothing more. Only a head, which fell off in a devilish dance.
by Silvia Crocicchi (@silviacrocicchi.illustrations)
🖤🖤🖤FIDDLER JONES🖤🖤🖤
(from the Spoon River Anthology)
The earth keeps some vibration going
There in your heart, and that is you.
And if the people find you can fiddle,
Why, fiddle you must, for all your life.
What do you see, a harvest of clover?
Or a meadow to walk through to the river?
The wind's in the corn; you rub your hands
For beeves hereafter ready for market;
Or else you hear the rustle of skirts
Like the girls when dancing at Little Grove.
To Cooney Potter a pillar of dust
Or whirling leaves meant ruinous drouth;
They looked to me like Red-Head Sammy
Stepping it off, to "Toor-a-Loor."
How could I till my forty acres
Not to speak of getting more,
With a medley of horns, bassoons and piccolos
Stirred in my brain by crows and robins
And the creak of a wind-mill--only these?
And I never started to plow in my life
That some one did not stop in the road
And take me away to a dance or picnic.
I ended up with forty acres;
I ended up with a broken fiddle--
And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories,
And not a single regret.
by Trudi Murray (@trudi_murray)
I’ve been making imaginary Shakespeare book covers for each day’s prompt. I would LOVE to illustrate Shakespeare in real life! -- Today’s prompt is DANCE. From two feuding families, young lovers Romeo and Juliet fall in love at a masked ball, a dance organised by her father to encourage Juliet’s betrothal to another boy, Paris. Clever Shakespeare - a masked ball is a perfect device. When real identities are hidden, isn’t love the simplest truth? When the revellers spill out into the night, there follows an epically tragic dance of headstrong love, logistical misunderstanding and slightly over-dramatic young people making rash decisions 
by Katia Hinic (@katia.hinic)
Day 7 Dance 🌿 STORY TIME! There was once a beautiful valley with a small hill in the middle. This was a sacred place, covered in lush grass, where fairies would meet and dance all night long.  Until one day, the shepherds herded their sheep on the hill, letting them graze on the soft grass. That night the fairies returned and looked upon the ruined grass in horror. All that soft ground ruined, hard and battered, it's no place to dance! 🐑🐑🐑 Despite the warnings, the shepherds let the sheep eat the grass until there was just hard stone and trampled grass underneath their feet. One of the fairies slipped and broke her leg on the hard ground, making the fairies very angry! They called upon the surrounding mountains and their white peaks and filled the valley with water, leaving the little hill as an island in the middle. Lake Bled was created, leaving the island lush and green again. And the fairies dance in the moonlight to this day 🖤 And yes, Lake Bled is an actual place, go google it (or check my latest story)! It's beautiful and looks just as magical as it sounds.
by Maja Lindberg (@illustrationsby majali)
When the mist shrouds along the fields a windless morning or evening it looks like fairies dancing. In Sweden the name for this weather phenomenon is called, ”älvdans” (fairy dance).
by Katarina Favaro (@keit_the_human)
Dance Macabre/ Danse Macabre #danzamacabra
by Kath Waxman (@kathwaxman)
Day 7 of Folktale Week 2020 -- Prompt: Dance -- Illustration: the Volta -- The connection between Shakespeare’s King Lear and Cinderella clearly demonstrates how folktales inspired Shakespeare’s many works. In Lear, his main plot uses a legend that parallels "Love Like Salt," a Cinderella-ish story that appears in Grimms' Fairy Tales. While Shakespeare’s version is a tragedy, and Cinderella ends quite differently, both stories contain similar elements. Dance is an important part of Cinderella and folktales. Dance, like stories, language, and costume reflects the life, values, and customs of a people. We all know the importance of the ball and dance in the Cinderella story.

Late entries for BIRTH
by Che Chula (@chechulalala)
#folktaleweek, so here goes first one, tiny Otesánek is born


by Cynthia Cliff (@ceecliff_art)
Folktale Week Day 1: BIRTH no 2. In children’s tales there are often magical beings that either adore babies or try to snatch them away. I’ve made one of each.
by Johanna Lohrengal Art
Tatterhood, a favourite of my son, is a Norwegian tale about two princess twin sisters that could not appear to be more different. -- One of the girls is the sweetest pup one can imagine - whereas the other girl Tatterhood is as loud as a murder of crows, wearing rags and riding on a goat while passionately waving about with a wooden spoon. -- But they belong together just as the shadows and light do and the best of it is that they know this. -- Now there are lots of strange things happening in this tale - a herd of ogres trying to ask for the hand of the fair princess, a human body with the head of a calf, a long journey and a strange wedding deal. -- But as today the Folktale Week 2020 is starting with the topic "Birth" I want to reflect on the strange circumstances of the birth of Tatterhood and her twin sister. -- The King and the Queen of a certain kingdom wished for a child and after years of trying they finally met a wise woman who shared her magic and gave them how-to instructions. After several steps the Queen was supposed to find two roses in her garden - a white one and a red one - and under no circumstances was she to eat the red one. Upon seeing the two flowers she could not stop herself and before even noticing what was happening she had devoured the red rose whose pull was just too strong. She also ate the white rose and after 9 months of dreaming and growing and hoping she gave birth to the twins. -- --- -- There is not much said about the relationship between the "ugly" girl Tatterhood and her parents but it is known that they tried to keep the two girls apart, which never worked. -- While writing this I am wondering about how it must feel for the Queen to give birth to what seems a strange changeling while fully understanding that it was her fault. -- Is she feeling guilty? Is she feeling released because finally the consequence of eating the forbidden red rose is revealed? Is she able to love a child like this, a child that is a constant reminder of her own lack of control? -- What are the ungly children that we gave birth to when we did something that we were not supposed to do? How do we take care of the offspring of our failures and wrongdoings? -- Luckily this story shows us that the things we initially consider a mistake, a bad decision, a misstep can later save the day and carry us to latitudes we would never have dreamt of.

Late entries for COURTSHIP
by Elena Yampolsky (@yelensky_illustration)
Day 3 - Courtship -- One more story from the Enchanted Forest. -- This is how the Baba Yaga's date looks like. Probably I've made a special valentine card
by Anastasiya (@S_E_R_P_R_E_K_A)

Late entries for HARVEST
by Karlen Tam (@karlen_tam)
The Great Peach Banquet (text shown above)
by Maria Over (@maria.over)
“So many herring!” Seqineq burst out in cheer as Nanuq turned around with a beaming smile across his face. A large swarm passed right underneath their kayaks and towards the nets. -- For today’s prompt “Harvest”, I adapted a belief from Northern Sweden that the Northern lights were a good omen that brought large groups of herring and secured survival.
by Sabine König (@vomheugel_design)
HARVEST, FOLKTALEWEEK 2020 ⁣🍶 The small tear jug⁣⁣⁣⁣ --  "But one night she had to run an errand from one village to another. The full moon shone on the snow-covered land, but she did not see the beauty, for her eyes were clouded by all the tears💧for her child. ⁣ -- "… a child with bare feet tripped fearfully in the cold snow ❄️ and dragged a heavy jug." ⁣ -- "... the mother recognized it and said as in a dream: "How warm is mother's arm!" Oh child, won't you come and stay at your mother's house?" asked the woman sadly. Said the child: "Dear mother mine, put away your grief and stop crying. For all the tears you shed will flow over my grave ⚰️ into this jar. Now I have to tow it, and it still gets fuller." (German folktale) ⁣ -- The child reaps the tears of his mother, he catches them in his jug and his burden becomes heavier and heavier. The child asks the mother to let him go. The sadness and hopelessness of the mother weighs on the child and it does not find peace, nor does the mother.⁣

Late entry for DEATH
by Nessie (@amnessie_)
Death -- Swan Lake Act 4: Odette's Death -- Inspired by The Dying Swan


Looking forward to #folktaleweek2021!

Sunday, November 29, 2020

#FolktaleWeek2020 - Day 6 Picks: Harvest

Promotional pic by A. Lysiak -Sz. (@jelen.iara)

 The prompt for day six is HARVEST.

by Vanessa Soberanis (@vanessa.soberanis.illustration)
And as Rapunzel's mother plucked the radishes from the cold earth of The Witch's garden bed, so came The Witch to pluck Rapunzel from her mother's hardened clutch.
by A. Owl (@otuscops)
Once upon a time, Bear and Fox decided to sow turnips and to split the harvest evenly. What lovely turnips they turned out to be! Such big, fleshy roots, and such lush leaves! So, Bear pondered how to divide the harvest in two equal parts. He said: “Let’s split it this way—I will take these green tops, and you’ll take the roots”. Fox knew that it was unfair but gladly complied with his plan. She just took the turnips and left Bear with useless leaves. Bear hadn’t found what a mistake he had made until later, and Fox took advantage of him. Unfortunately, he was left without food. 

by Julia C. Illustration
This prompt is based on Cornish Piskies and how one day, a boy from Truro went missing one day. He went to pick some flowers and turned up days later. When asked he said he fell asleep and woke up to the dark with all these strange stars around him. It was actually Piskies, who fed him honey. He woke up back in the glen he disappeared from. So be careful what you pick and harvest

 
by Denise Burden Art

by Katrin Dreiling (@katrinaartworks)
Another Brothers Grimm folktale ~ A peasant found a devil in his fields, sitting on a little pile. He guessed he was sitting on treasure, and the devil offered it if for two years, half of the crop was his. The peasant agreed, and said that to prevent disputes, the half above the ground was the devil's, and the half below the peasant's. When the devil agreed, the peasant planted beets.
When harvest time came, the devil saw his leaves and the peasant's beets, and said they must do it the other way round the next year. The peasant agreed and planted wheat. At harvest, the devil found he got nothing but stubble. Having been outwitted twice, he retreated into the earth in a fury, and the peasant took the treasure.

by Imogen Joy (@imogenjoy_illustration)
FOLKTALE WEEK DAY 6: CORVELLO & THE BIRD QUEEN” (Written and Illustrated by Imogen Joy) -- DAY 6: PROMPT ~ HARVEST -- As soon as the Bird Queen fell, light and colour, so much colour, returned to the land. The bird folk happily returned to their human form, albeit for a few feathers which remained. Crops grew and the harvest was abundant. As if by magic, each time a crop was harvested it would replenish itself to the delight of the hungry villagers. -- Corvello and Luna travelled throughout the land in search of Corvello’s mother. So long had he been parted from her that he had no memory of the village where he came from. As they passed through each village, Corvello and Luna would stay a day or two to help reap the plentiful crops. They rejoiced in seeing the happiness in the faces of each of the peasant folk. Yet Corvello’s heart was heavy. Would he ever find his mother?
by Marta Dorado (@martadorado)
(6/7 of an ongoing story) HARVEST: That year, the harvest was so abundant that all the barns in the kingdom were not enough to store it. Nobody saw the princess again, and to be honest, few mourned her absence. Soon, she was just a blurry memory. Only the old soothsayer smiled to herself from time to time, remembering omens from the past.
by Kamila Stankiewicz (@st.kamila)
Probably Południca (Lady Midday) was an often choice for this theme. No wonder, she fits perfectly.
Another Slavic demon. A woman who died as a bride, or soon after the wedding had a great chance to get the job. Her responsibilities was: showing up in the summer, in the middle of the day, choking resting harvesters, kidnapping children and using a sickle from others (macabre) reasons than a harvest.
👻If you are right person for the job please contact the non-existing Slavic Mythology Restoration Institute ;).
by Joanna Strutynksa Illustrator (@joannaillustrations)
by Eleonora Asparuhova (@elleasparuhova)
 ‘Harvest’ was inspired by the village where my great grandparents were from - Gorotsvet, Bulgaria. A place I visit every time I return to Bulgaria.
by Alanna Did That Illustration (@alanna_did_that)
Folktale week day 6 progress piece: #harvest ... “The Ant and the Grasshopper”
by Kath Waxman (@kathwaxman)
Prompt : Harvest -- Illustration: Guising
.A soul cake: a soul-cake! Please good Missis, a soul cake!
An apple, a pear or a cherry
Any good thing to make us all merry
One for Peter,
Two for Paul
Three for Him, who made us all.
Samhain is a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the “dark half” of the year. Akin to our All-Hallow’s Eve or Halloween tradition, the celebration of Samhain and other similar holidays that honor the dead were popular pagan rituals during Shakespeare’s time. It was a time when the normal order of the universe was upended or suspended. The world of the gods was made visible to mortals on earth, and supernatural forces prevailed. Sounds spooky, huh? Many of Shakespeare’s plays dealt with ghosts and feature other mischievous spirits and fairies including Hamlet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
by Katia Hinic (@katia.hinic)
Day 6 Harvest 🌿 STORY - POEM? - TIME! He sings, he dances, he's clad in twigs, grasses and birch tree branches! He goes house to house, every year, bringing good harvest, fortune and cheer! Ah, he brings them spring and people sing 'Došel je, došel Zeleni Jurij!' 'Here he comes, here comes Green George!' (or Jorge and Georges! Or Jürgen, Girgis and Jiří!)   -He also happens to look suspiciously like my dog Viggo, who brings me just as much joy as the Zeleni Jurij does to us all! 🌿

by Bella Park (@crown_bellflower)
The legend of rabbits living on the moon is a common legend that exists in Korea, China and Japan.
Korea’s moon rabbit story is more focused on Korean harvest festival. That the bunnies are making rice cakes on the moon.

by Ruth Burrows (@ruthburrowsillustration)
I am looking to Lincolnshire Folklore to inspire my work this week and today’s illustration is brought you by the Farmer and the Bogart! -- Fighting over piece of land, the farmer and the Bogart agree to share the harvest. The farmer taking what grows beneath the land, the Bogart taking what grows above. -- "Very well," says the farmer, "wilt thou tek what grows above ground, or what grows beneath ground? Only, moind, thou mun stick to what thou sattles; oi doant want no back-reckunnings after.” -- The farmer is cunning and plants potatoes (‘tates’) the first year, leaving the Bogart with useless potato tops. Next year they decide to swap, the Bogart taking what grows beneath the earth. Again the farmer is clever and grows wheat, leaving the bogart with just the stubble! -- "Ye may tek t' mucky owd land an' all 'ats on it; I wean't hev no more to do wi' it." -- Source: Lincolnshire Folk Tales by Maureen James
by Sam Rudd Design (@samrudddesign)
It was tradition after harvest to make a corn dolly and keep it until next spring to ensure a good crop the next year. Sometimes a corn hare was made.

Late entries for Day 5: DEATH
by Ana Salvador (@anasalvadorbaron)
A young man was heading to the church on All Saints’ day. He was keen to look at the girls rather than the church itself. In the middle of the way he found a skull. He kicked it challenging: I invite you skull, to join for dinner. And as a heaven miracle, the skull replied: I give you my word.  -- The young man was worried until night came. As soon as it got dark someone knocked on the door, so strong that the whole house shaked.
The young man said to his servant: Go quickly and see who is knocking because I feel each knock hitting in my heart. -- When the servant opened the door, the Skull was there.  Go and ask your master if he remembers what was said. Many dishes were served, but the Skull didn’t eat any. Wine was poured, the Skull didn’t try it either. I didn’t come to eat either drink, it said. I just came to keep my promise. -- And so the Skull took the young man with it and both vanished in the mist. -- After that day nobody saw the young man again. -- And the legend ends saying that this is a warning for all young people. They must have respect for death.
by Anna Tenenbaum Illustrator (@pearpiecrumbs)
Have you seen where in the world Are you a young princess? I am her fiancé. " - "Wait, the stormy wind answers, There, beyond the quiet river There is a high mountain There is a deep hole in it; In that hole, in the sad darkness, The coffin is swinging crystal On chains between the pillars. See no trace of anyone Around that empty space; In that coffin is your bride. "
by Shelley Aldrich (@shelleyaldrichminimuseum)
THE MIRROR OF MATSUYAMA - Matsuyama lived happily with her mother and father in the countryside. One day after a trip to the city, the father brought back a beautiful mirror for his wife. The wife, having never seen a mirror believed it was another person looking back at her, until her husband explained that it was her reflection. - Many years later, Matsuyama’s mother become ill. Before she passed she explained to Matsuyama that whenever she felt alone, she could look into the mirror to see her. Matsuyama faithfully looked into the mirror each day for comfort, never knowing that she was speaking to her own reflection. - There is more to the story, but the beauty of the tale is that our parents stay with us even after they have left this world. Their influence, memories, and love become a part of who we are and we are a reflection of them.