Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Natalia Dobzhanska's Fables For Today... For Always...

Moses in the ark
Moses in the ark (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Leave it… His human soul, a child’s soul, 
did not yet realize that separation is 

it always exists… 
And no matter with whom or with what –a

 human being will have to get used to parting,
each time anew – with or without sorrow… 
The boy left the spoiled toy as if it were a
betrayed friend – to him it was alive… 
but not any more, the bird was dead. 
His father made him more and more paper

 birds,  and then he taught him to make
 the birds himself. The boy grew up,
 but his fascination with birds
 remained, he still longed to watch birds
 in flight…
and his angel’s yearning for flight did not

 pass… His peers regarded this no longer
 small boy’s passion for paper birds as unforgivably freakish. At that age they had proceeded from toy tanks, pistols and guns 
to the real weapons –  fishing rods, their 
fathers’ hunting guns, and then 
hunting for girls; 
so toying with paper birds was regarded
 as a serious deviation from the norm.
And it caused the expected reaction. 

“Hey, look – the white bird is flying!” 
the boys mocked and teased him. And 
they never missed an opportunity to destroy his paper creatures. Eventually
 it grew into a mania, and lads from all over the district hunted for his toys, enjoying 
it as an entertainment, and, at the same time, as a way to assert themselves at somebody else’s expense! “Hey, fool! 
Give us your white hen –
let it fly here, we’ll pluck off its feathers!” “And we’ll gut it, too!” It went as far as a dead pigeon thrown into his yard… shot with a father’s gun. The dead bird’s blood-stained feathers symbolized to his human, but still child’s soul, the end of 

flight, the broken wings of his dream…
“Do not be crestfallen, it is not real yet, for 
you will need your wings,” the angel part of his soul said,  knocking. But it knocked in vain. The silver thread blocked the contact like a thick concrete wall… 
But the night came, and the passions abated, 
and he fell asleep. And the angels came to support him, and embraced him tenderly with their fluffy golden wings, to make his repose gentle and serene. And God Himself came and cradled him... 


Not so long ago there lived people 
in the foothills
 who remembered a story told by their 

ancestors,  the legend of an iron tower.
It stood as a lonely guard on the very

 edge of the kingdom of the peaceful.
With the black pupils of its hollow loopholes
 it peered into the distance.
And it alone knew what its eyes saw:
 the past or the future, the near or the far-away…
   But everyone who,
having lost his way by some misfortune
 approached the iron tower,
felt his heart race in panic,
his tongue stick to his palate,
his hair stand on end,
and bloody visions appeared before him…
 Some made the sign of the cross
 and whispered prayers while walking past,
 but most turned headlong
 and ran as fast as their feet could carry them
 – to be as far as possible from it,
 this source of fear…
 Nobody remembered who built it, 

or when…

Legend of an Iron Tower: And Other Fables

Natalia Dobzhanska and Alan Knight (Translator)

All of us at one time or another have either read or told a "Once upon a time" story, oftentimes to children, especially as they are put to bed. Many stories come down through our heritage... But, for most of us at this time in the world, most have probably read them 
in books, or seen them on TV or in movies.

I wondered, as I read Natalia Dobzhanska's stories why I would not know  of at least one "God" story. Did no one in our family have a creative imagination? Perhaps they were taught that the Bible stories were those that we should know about, but no other? Then I came upon the story of "RE-LIG… (ANGEL INCARNATE)" 

And it seemed so real to me...and I wondered--what did the author mean to tell in this fable, in this story? For me, it was a story that made me think of Jesus (though it was really an Angel) coming into the present days...and how much "garbage" he'd had to 
tempt him... 

Each night this man would fall asleep and the angels would minister to him and he would sit with God and in His arms he would find peace and love and contentment and would be able to start a new day.

And then, like many of us here on earth, there came a time when he couldn't get a good night's sleep...The title story is very dramatic and you will never guess what happened...
Let's just say that those that believe guns do not kill people as the reason we should have weapons have never seen or heard of the Iron Tower...This simple fable in itself is worth the acquisition of this book...if we but allow the simple stories to make a difference
in our thinking...

I've known a few people I've called two-faced, but Natalia tells us about the man who had no face of his own...Perhaps we all need to read this one?

A fable about the doors we may choose to go through to find happiness is about a man who is alone on a deserted island. He reasons one day that there might be more like him, rather than just the birds flying by... But will one door lead him to happiness, or the next one...

I think the one that I enjoyed most, though, was about the little cloud who loved the sun...And in that simple tale, we learn about the weather! How cool is that?!

The author is from Russia; however, she and Alan Knight have done an excellent job in translation for all of us to enjoy!

Highly recommended...just to enjoy and ponder...and hopefully learn!

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