Once upon a time, over the great mountains, in a small village, there lived a poor widowed woman with her only son, called Peter. All day long they were out in the woods picking the rye that the poor widow took to market to earn a few garaskas.
One day, during one of these plows, the snow started falling in big flakes. The poor widow sat down in the woods, coughing and died a few days later, leaving her son Peter as orphaned and alone as a finger.
Hey, poor Peter cried like a shower, crying for his mother. Then, what could he do, he bundled his few belongings into a little bundle and went out into the world. First, however, he went to his mother's grave in the cemetery and prayed there for a long time, with his eyes closed.
Well, as soon as she raises her eyes after prayer, a beautiful lily blossoms on the grave. The lily was all the more beautiful because the ground was covered with snow all around, and this lily grew straight from the poor mother's heart.
Orphan Peter carefully plucked the beautiful white lily, hid it in his bosom, and set off into the world. He walked sadly along the snow-covered highway until it was dusk.
The wind was howling and carrying the snow, poor Peter was very tired and sleepy, and his eyes were frozen. But sleepiness and tiredness are dangerous things in the cold and snow. For if a man closes his eyes for a moment, fatigue takes hold of him and he lies down to sleep, covered with snow and freezing.
Poor Peter staggered in the snow for a long time, then his eyes closed, he lay down in the snow and fell sweetly asleep. Is there any waking from such a dream?
The wind howled, the snow fell and slowly covered the poor child's body. Nothing could be seen of him, for the white blanket of snow covered him completely.
Orphan Peter had a wonderful dream. He was at home in their little hut, lying in his little bed. His mother was bending over the bed and covering his cold body with a soft, white, warm blanket. The chill magically disappeared and Peter smiled in his sleep.
Perhaps he would have frozen under the snow and moved to a happier home forever. But the mother's heart sensed the danger that threatened her orphaned child.
The white lily that had grown from the mother's heart rested on Peter's chest and slowly began to rise in the warmth. The petals of the lily gently peeked out from under the blanket of snow and the flower began to grow rapidly, now the size of a road sign.
In the cold, the petals turned an angry red, and in the endless white snowy desert, the heart-shaped red lily could be seen from far away.
A sleigh approached from the distance. On the horses' necks tiny silver bells were ringing: jingling, jingling. The sleigh sped on, the road was so dusty, the horses were jolly as they pranced, and the coachman cracked his whip merrily.
In the sleigh sat an elderly, wealthy and kind-hearted lady in furs.
- 'Nini, what a strange red flower in the snow,' cried the old lady. - How did such a big red lily get into the snow? Wait a minute, John.
John, the coachman, jerked the reins, and the horses, their nostrils steaming, stopped in an instant. The lady stepped curiously to the lily and cried out in surprise.
- Oh, a poor little child lying here under a blanket of snow, perhaps the cold of God has taken him. Quick, John, help us!
The driver picked the boy up and shook the snow off him, then wrapped him in warm blankets.
- See a doctor! Drive as fast as you can! - cried the old lady.
And the horses started, even their shoes sparkled, and the sleigh flew. They reached the town in a moment, Peter the Orphan was laid down on soft pillows, the doctor came and ordered drops.
It took a long time for Peter to recover from the great illness he had contracted in the snow. By then, spring had sprung, the trees were budding and the birds were singing.
Peter took his bat and was about to leave.
- 'It is not till then,' said the old lady, 'I have grown very fond of you, Peter, for you are the perfect image of my dead son; stay here, will you be my son?
And so he did, and from then on Peter lived happily as the old lady's little boy. He never forgot his mother's grave, and they often visited the beautiful, flowery grave together with the kind-hearted lady.
