The Crane Wife
A Story from Winter Court 5 by Kakita Kyoumi
"Once, long ago, before even the kami fell from the heavens, there lived a man...a farmer on the outskirts of a prosperous village. He was a poor man, a simple man, who worked the fields and came home alone."
"One day, he was in the forest looking for firewood when he came across a crane with a wounded wing. It was being hounded by a wolf. He threw a rock at the wolf, and the wolf ran away, not really that interested in the feast anyway. The man thought about cooking it up and eating it himself, because food was often scarce for him in those times. But in the end, he decided that he wasn't that hungry either. So he checked her wing over and let her go, returning to his small house."
"A few days later, a beautiful woman arrived at the door to this poor farmer's house. She asked him to help her...she had been fleeing from an attacker and needed a place to hide. She was sweet and modest and kind and intelligent and beautiful. The farmer could not bear to tell her no, and invited her to stay with him."
"Was it any surprise that the farmer fell in love with such a creature? As soon as she entered his life, he found his world transformed. His poor hut, he found cleaned and spotless every day. His meager meals, cooked to perfection, each portion of rice used to best benefit so the meals went farther than they ever had before. She started a vegetable garden for him, and took care of him in all ways. And each day he went to town, and regretted that he could not bring back more for her, for certainly she deserved it. He begged to marry her, and she accepted."
"One day, he complained about this at his evening meal. Complained that he did not have enough to provide for her as he thought that she should be provided for. She had never complained, had never once asked for more, but could see his grief. " She sighed. "Very well," she told the farmer. "Build me a little hut next to the house. Make sure it has no windows, and make certain the walls are thick. And build for me a loom. I will weave for you, and you can sell the fabric I weave. That will bring you wealth and status, as you desire."
"The farmer, of course, did as he was bid, building hut and loom for his beautiful wife. When it was finished, after they had finished their morning meal, she stood outside the hut and told him, "I will do this thing for you. But there is one condition, my husband. You must never, ever watch what it is I am doing here. You must never watch me as I weave. Do you understand"
"Well, of course the farmer claimed he understood, just overjoyed at the thought of wondering what his wife could accomplish. And so she went into the hut, and he went off to work the fields. And at the end of the day, when he returned home, she emerged from the hut and laid out for him a bolt of the finest silk he had ever seen, pure snowy white, with beautiful patterns woven into the essence of the fabric itself. The man was overjoyed. And she smiled to see his joy."
"When he went to town to sell it, half the townsfolk were buzzing about the quality and beauty of the fabric. The village magistrate was very impressed indeed, and he received an excellent price. He immediately bought a lovely hair ornament for his wife, and other things to make their house more impressive, and hurried home to her."
"The farmer's wife accepted the gifts graciously, though they seemed to give her no pleasure. Still, it pleased him well enough, until the money ran out. And then he said, "You should go make more cloth. If you make more, I can buy many more splendid things and treat you as well as you deserve."
"She granted his request. He went off in the field. When he returned, she did not emerge, and he ate his evening meal alone. The next day, he went to the fields again. This time, when he returned, he found her there, with twice as much of the beautiful fabric as before, waiting for him. He was overjoyed, and praised her, and hurried to town the next day to sell it."
"By then, the reputation of the first bolt had grown. There was a rich lord who wished to buy. The man was eager and all was going well. He bought more gifts for his wife, a beautiful kimono for her, new linens for their bed. Everything. Their house grew more resplendent."
"And so it continued. Every few days, the farmer would realize that the money had run out, and would turn to his wife. She would go into her hut for a day or two, and emerge with more cloth he would sell. He dressed her in gold and jewels and the finest kimono. He hired a servant for her to tend their house and a gardener for their garden and a cook for their kitchen. She looked as beautiful and as fine a lady as he felt she should be, had everything he felt she deserved.
"And she did as he bid, uncomplaining. But he noticed, despite the makeup and the kimonos, each day she seemed to grow more weary and more pale. When he asked, she said that it was nothing...but...he began to grow curious."
"The farmer grew more and more curious. What were these secrets she kept from him? Who was she anyway? What foe had pursued her? How did she create the beautiful white silk she wove? The questions burned like fire in his heart at night, even when in the day he would ask her to go and create more silk for him to sell."
"Finally, he could not bear it any longer. "
"He left his wife as usual for the day, with instructions to weave for him more silk. But, instead of going to the field, he stole back to the house and waited. He watched his wife enter the little hut he had prepared, and still he waited until he could hear the clicking of the loom. And then he stole, very quietly, up to the hut, lay his head on the ground, and peered through the crack under the door."
"Within, the man saw the great white crane that he had rescued so long before. With her long, elegant bill, she tore the feathers from her own breast, her own wings of perfect snowy white, and fed them into the loom, weaving them on the loom to make the fabric he had so desired. She had given him everything he had asked, even down to the very essence of herself, though it was destroying her to do so."
"Surprised....shocked...maybe horrified...the farmer made a sound. The Crane turned and saw him then, and emerged, battered and bruised, from the hut. She gave him one, long, last, sad look...and flew away. Never to be seen again."
A Story from Winter Court 5 by Kakita Kyoumi
"Once, long ago, before even the kami fell from the heavens, there lived a man...a farmer on the outskirts of a prosperous village. He was a poor man, a simple man, who worked the fields and came home alone."
"One day, he was in the forest looking for firewood when he came across a crane with a wounded wing. It was being hounded by a wolf. He threw a rock at the wolf, and the wolf ran away, not really that interested in the feast anyway. The man thought about cooking it up and eating it himself, because food was often scarce for him in those times. But in the end, he decided that he wasn't that hungry either. So he checked her wing over and let her go, returning to his small house."
"A few days later, a beautiful woman arrived at the door to this poor farmer's house. She asked him to help her...she had been fleeing from an attacker and needed a place to hide. She was sweet and modest and kind and intelligent and beautiful. The farmer could not bear to tell her no, and invited her to stay with him."
"Was it any surprise that the farmer fell in love with such a creature? As soon as she entered his life, he found his world transformed. His poor hut, he found cleaned and spotless every day. His meager meals, cooked to perfection, each portion of rice used to best benefit so the meals went farther than they ever had before. She started a vegetable garden for him, and took care of him in all ways. And each day he went to town, and regretted that he could not bring back more for her, for certainly she deserved it. He begged to marry her, and she accepted."
"One day, he complained about this at his evening meal. Complained that he did not have enough to provide for her as he thought that she should be provided for. She had never complained, had never once asked for more, but could see his grief. " She sighed. "Very well," she told the farmer. "Build me a little hut next to the house. Make sure it has no windows, and make certain the walls are thick. And build for me a loom. I will weave for you, and you can sell the fabric I weave. That will bring you wealth and status, as you desire."
"The farmer, of course, did as he was bid, building hut and loom for his beautiful wife. When it was finished, after they had finished their morning meal, she stood outside the hut and told him, "I will do this thing for you. But there is one condition, my husband. You must never, ever watch what it is I am doing here. You must never watch me as I weave. Do you understand"
"Well, of course the farmer claimed he understood, just overjoyed at the thought of wondering what his wife could accomplish. And so she went into the hut, and he went off to work the fields. And at the end of the day, when he returned home, she emerged from the hut and laid out for him a bolt of the finest silk he had ever seen, pure snowy white, with beautiful patterns woven into the essence of the fabric itself. The man was overjoyed. And she smiled to see his joy."
"When he went to town to sell it, half the townsfolk were buzzing about the quality and beauty of the fabric. The village magistrate was very impressed indeed, and he received an excellent price. He immediately bought a lovely hair ornament for his wife, and other things to make their house more impressive, and hurried home to her."
"The farmer's wife accepted the gifts graciously, though they seemed to give her no pleasure. Still, it pleased him well enough, until the money ran out. And then he said, "You should go make more cloth. If you make more, I can buy many more splendid things and treat you as well as you deserve."
"She granted his request. He went off in the field. When he returned, she did not emerge, and he ate his evening meal alone. The next day, he went to the fields again. This time, when he returned, he found her there, with twice as much of the beautiful fabric as before, waiting for him. He was overjoyed, and praised her, and hurried to town the next day to sell it."
"By then, the reputation of the first bolt had grown. There was a rich lord who wished to buy. The man was eager and all was going well. He bought more gifts for his wife, a beautiful kimono for her, new linens for their bed. Everything. Their house grew more resplendent."
"And so it continued. Every few days, the farmer would realize that the money had run out, and would turn to his wife. She would go into her hut for a day or two, and emerge with more cloth he would sell. He dressed her in gold and jewels and the finest kimono. He hired a servant for her to tend their house and a gardener for their garden and a cook for their kitchen. She looked as beautiful and as fine a lady as he felt she should be, had everything he felt she deserved.
"And she did as he bid, uncomplaining. But he noticed, despite the makeup and the kimonos, each day she seemed to grow more weary and more pale. When he asked, she said that it was nothing...but...he began to grow curious."
"The farmer grew more and more curious. What were these secrets she kept from him? Who was she anyway? What foe had pursued her? How did she create the beautiful white silk she wove? The questions burned like fire in his heart at night, even when in the day he would ask her to go and create more silk for him to sell."
"Finally, he could not bear it any longer. "
"He left his wife as usual for the day, with instructions to weave for him more silk. But, instead of going to the field, he stole back to the house and waited. He watched his wife enter the little hut he had prepared, and still he waited until he could hear the clicking of the loom. And then he stole, very quietly, up to the hut, lay his head on the ground, and peered through the crack under the door."
"Within, the man saw the great white crane that he had rescued so long before. With her long, elegant bill, she tore the feathers from her own breast, her own wings of perfect snowy white, and fed them into the loom, weaving them on the loom to make the fabric he had so desired. She had given him everything he had asked, even down to the very essence of herself, though it was destroying her to do so."
"Surprised....shocked...maybe horrified...the farmer made a sound. The Crane turned and saw him then, and emerged, battered and bruised, from the hut. She gave him one, long, last, sad look...and flew away. Never to be seen again."
