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In a far-off kingdom there once lived a merchant. For twelve years he had been married, and in all that time he had only one child – a daughter named Vasilisa the Beautiful.
When the girl was eight years old, her mother fell gravely ill. Feeling her end near, the mother called Vasilisa to her bedside, took a small doll from beneath the blanket, handed it to her, and said:
“Listen carefully, my dear Vasilisa. Remember my last words and never forget them. I am leaving this world, and together with my blessing I give you this doll. Keep it with you always and never show it to anyone. Whenever sadness or trouble comes your way, give the doll something to eat and ask her for advice. She will eat what you offer – and she will tell you how to overcome your sorrow.”
Then the mother kissed Vasilisa and passed away.
The merchant sorrowed for his wife as was proper, but in time he began to think of marrying again. He was a good man, and many brides would have gladly married him. The one he liked most, however, was a widow. She was older, but she had her own household and two daughters, nearly the same age as Vasilisa – so he thought that she would make both a capable housekeeper and a good mother.
The merchant married the widow, but he was mistaken. She proved to be no kind mother to Vasilisa.
Vasilisa grew into the most beautiful girl in the whole village. Her stepmother and stepsisters envied her beauty and made her work endlessly, hoping that heavy labor, wind, and sun would spoil her looks. Life became truly hard for her. But Vasilisa endured everything without complaint – and with every passing day she only became lovelier. Meanwhile, the stepmother and her daughters grew thinner and harsher from their jealousy, even though they did nothing but sit idly like noble ladies.
How was this possible?
It was the little doll who helped Vasilisa. Without it, the girl could never have completed the endless work. Vasilisa herself would often go hungry, leaving the best bite for the doll. And at night, when everyone had gone to bed, she would quietly lock herself in the small storeroom where she slept, set the doll before her, and whisper:
“Eat, little doll, and listen to my sorrow. I live in my father’s house and know no joy. My stepmother is cruel and wants to drive me from the light of day. Tell me how I should live and what I should do.”
