Knots of starry heaven
I was told this story by an old crispin, a master of new heels and the most truthful stories.
Once upon a time Ali and Nazira lived in a town. Their happiness was as great as heavens, and as sweet as halva. In praise of God, a daughter was born to them. The girl was so pretty, that people compared her to the light of stars and named her Yuldis, which means “Star”. The little one filled the hearts of her parents with love by her tenderness.
Suddenly an evil illness came to town. The disease spared not even warriors, let alone babies. Nearly in every yard one might hear sounds of grieving mothers’ moans.
Nazira was sobbing also. Having lost her little Star, mother was close to lose her mind. Then Ali took her to a Wise man.
What should I do, my dear? – asked Nazira the Wise man. – How can I return my daughter?
You’ll never return you Star, — the Wise man said. – But there is a way to return the meaning of your days. Give work to your hand, my dear, weave knots. Let cloth tell to people about Yuldis. Let it be the memories of your daughter.
How long should this cloth be?
You’ll understand by yourself, when time comes to finish your work. – concluded the Wise man and took a sip of hot tea.
Nazira came home and took three threads. She tied them into knots and began to weave. A pattern appeared on the cloth. “It will be like my Starry”, — mother thought. Rounds and diamonds were weaving into a long ornament, like the Sun and stars…
Many years have passed. Nazira didn’t eat her heart out anymore. Her body stiffed from many years of sitting. Only hands were moving. Her lips were whispering prays endlessly, like endlessly her starry pattern was running. Mother thought of all children and asked the God that all babies in the world were healthy.
Many women came to the house of Ali and Nazira when they heard the weaver with wonderful girihs as starry heaven. Those, whose children were ill, were standing and praying for their health. Once a woman asked for a piece of cloth. “Mother, you’ve weaved very much. Your cloth is soaking by good thoughts and intentions”, — she said. – “Cut a piece of your Girih to me. You have enough already, and my baby will get better as soon as I bring your stars to my home”.
Nazira was excited to give a piece of cloth: “Really, why I never guessed before!”. Her work got a new meaning. Women came again and again, she needed more cloths. Nazira was weaving nonstop, and new girihs appeared. “I have to weave some more while I’m alive”, — she thought and speeded up. – “I haven’t stop for a moment, I must give all children a piece of protection and love.”
That is the story that old crispin had told me. He said, that Nazira had died long ago. But those pieces of cloth with girihs, which people call “Starry heaven”, spread all over the world. They cover babies by prays of their moms, — endless prays, like repeated stars on the pattern.
Have you ever met such a miracle piece of cloth?
Written and illustrated by:
Ekaterina Ivanova