The Heavenly Maiden waited in the cold dark, frightened, wondering what was to become of her. She wailed, cuddling in dry leaves for warmth. Coming up the lane, she recognized the young man. He brought his grandma.
“What is a young maiden doing here?”
Hiding who she was and that she came from the heavens to play with friends in the pool, the maiden answered, “I came with friends from a village to bathe in the warm pool.”
Grandma handed the heavenly maiden peasant clothing. She glared at her grandson, saying, “Can we take you to your village?”
“I do not know where. I followed my friends.” The maiden looked down and started to weep.
“You may come back to our village and may stay with me until my son finds your village.”
Of course, the young man searched to find her community; of course, he found nothing.
She went to the pool repeatedly, hunting for her clothing, and nothing, nothing, only a few grains of the heavenly rice around the pond. She cleaned the grains carefully and wrapped them in cloth for the time she needed them.
With years passing, the young maiden learned the ways of the villagers. She had nowhere to go, so the heavenly maiden decided to marry youth. The celebration was simple. She had no family and no wealth. She lived in his hut and received a pot as a gift to fix the meals.
When alone, while her husband worked in a garden growing vegetables, she unwrapped the precious grains of heavenly rice. She laid the fire, poured water into the pot. When the water boiled, the sacred savory grains swelled, ready to eat. The maiden always saved a handful for the next meal. Once served, she washed the pot and put the grains of saved rice inside.
Of course, her husband became curious, “Why does this pot always cook the delicious grains?”
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