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Benvenuto nel blog della Scrivente Errante! 

Uno spazio dove conoscere una Mamma, AUTRICE degli ARTICOLI e delle RECENSIONI che troverete su questo blog, appartenente alla generazione dei Millennials di due bambine Cosmopolite, a cui spero di poter dare gli strumenti per realizzare i loro sogni ed essere FELICI! 

For the last Sunday of February, we will read an Armenian tale!

If you have been following the Wandering Writer for a while, you will know that she had the honour of living, thanks to Europe, a seven-month period sharing a flat and a project with a young Armenian woman. You will find other signs of this encounter in the first book of the cosmopolitan family (for example, without going Googling, who knows the capital of this country?). If you know me, you also know that one of the pieces of feedback I left to the Agenzia Nazionale Giovani after my project (and which this institution trashed, because it came from a volunteer from a low social class and from the outskirts of Turin, not from the city centre!) was that, during the drafting of the multicultural story, a fable was accepted that had nothing to do with the culture of the Armenian volunteer, except a personal acquaintance. While the Italian volunteers selected a fable/story/myth from their home country, the Armenian volunteer chose an internationally known fable, but of English origin. Once I became a mother, I wanted to take the trouble to go looking for Armenian fairy tales, and I found many very interesting ones! I propose one this Sunday, I hope you enjoy it! The multicultural tale we wrote during our European volunteer experience can be read in the first Cosmopolitan Family book, masterfully illustrated by CinnaMom!
(It's) not a bunch of futile stories -

Once upon a time there was a man who had inherited a lot of wealth from his father, but who led such an irregular and reckless life that in a short time he had spent it all, down to the last penny. Then he sat down, folded his arms across his chest and sighed, thinking about his unfortunate condition. His father's friends gathered around him to console him. One of them, a cultured old man, said to him:
"Son, you have offended your Fortune, who has fled from you. You had better go and find your Fortune; perhaps you can find her and be reconciled with her and become, as before, a fortunate man'.
The man set off at once and travelled over mountains and plains in search of his fortune. One night he saw in a dream that his fortune was a human being like himself, who had fallen face-first onto the top of a high mountain, sighing and beating his chest the whole time, just as he had done. The next day he got up and continued his journey to that mountain. On his way he met the Lion Fairy, sitting on a mound of earth beside the road.
"Do not be afraid, human being, proceed," said the Lion. And when the man approached, he said, "Where are you going?"
"I am going to seek my fortune," said the man.
"Well," said the Lion, "your Fortune is very wise; ask him what is the remedy for my illness. I have been an invalid for seven years. If you find the right remedy I will reward you."
"Very well," said the man, and went on his way. Soon he came to a beautiful orchard full of all kinds of fruit. He picked some and began to eat, but they were all bitter. Then the gardener came and asked him where he was going.
"I am going to seek my fortune," said the man.
"Please ask your fortune," said the gardener, "what is the remedy for my orchard. I grafted my plants, but it was no use. I cut down the old trees and planted new ones, but that did not help either. If your Fortune can devise a remedy, I will reward you generously'. The man promised to ask his Fortune and resumed his journey. He soon came to a magnificent palace situated in a garden as beautiful as paradise, whose only inhabitant was a beautiful maiden.
"What man are you?" asked the maiden upon seeing the man, "and why have you come?
The man told her his story.
'You see,' said the maiden, 'I have this splendid palace and infinite wealth and property; but I have a sorrow that grows in my heart day and night, and I spend my life sighing all the time. Please ask your Fortune for me, and if you will bring me a device to make me happy, I promise to reward you generously'.
The man promised, and continued on his way until he reached the top of the mountain where his Fortune had fallen on his face. He described to him his unfortunate condition and expressed all his complaints. Fortune listened to him attentively and said:
"All may yet be well, since you have come so far to look for me".
Then the man asked Luck the things he had promised to ask, and received answers.
"Now won't you come with me?" asked the man.
"Go first," said Luck, "I will come after you."
The man returned. On his way back, he met the maiden first and said to her:
"Your sorrow will disappear and you will be happy as soon as you marry a young man of your choice".
Then he met the gardener and said:
"There is gold in the spring from which flows the water with which you irrigate your orchard. The plants suck particles of gold, which causes the fruit to be bitter. You must irrigate your orchard with water from another spring, or remove the ore from the present spring, then your fruit will be sweet'.
Then she came to the Lion Fairy and told him how she had seen her Fortune, and what messages she had brought to the maiden and the gardener.
"And what gift did the maiden give you?" asked the Lion.
"She said," replied the man, "that she had fallen in love with me and proposed to marry me, but I refused."
"And what reward did the gardener give you?" asked the Lion.
"He took gold ore from the spring," replied the man, "and refining it, prepared a horseload of pure gold. He gave it to me, but I refused, saying that I did not care to trouble myself and carry such a heavy thing so far."
"And what remedy did your Fortune devise for my illness?" asked the Lion.
"She said," replied the man, "the moment you devour the head of an idiot, you will be cured."
The Lion looked the man in the face and said:
"By heaven! I cannot find a bigger idiot than you on the face of the earth'. And striking his head with his paw, he made one bite, and the idiot was dead.
Remember the moral of this story: time never makes friends with a fool.


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