(تولد رنگ بنفش) The birth of the violet

(تولد رنگ بنفش) The birth of the violet
تعداد بازدید: 645


Hello friends, and welcome to sleep tight stories this is a story about how violets came to be born. There were lots of different colors in the garden of the fairies, and they were all beautiful. But one day when the fairy saw the rainbow, they realized that the purple color in the rainbow was missing from their garden. The Fairy artist decides to try and match the beautiful purple right it is not going so well.

The birth of the violet

The raindrops were kept busy one morning in the garden of the fairies. There were many flowers to be washed clean of the dust that had dulled they're bright colors, and the green of the trees must be made bright once more. And to leave without a dance with the little waves of the Brock was not to be thought of.

So the raindrops fell early in the morning. But in the afternoon, the sky became clear and there was promised in the beautiful rainbow that the raindrops work was done. For that day. At least. Isn't our garden beautiful after a shower? Said one fairy to another sitting beside her. Yes, the dust covers the colors of the flowers almost as soon as we have painted them. Let's see that gold of those daffodils.

I like the Reds and Blues of the other flowers too. They seem brighter than ever today. Sometimes I sit all day and look at them. Oh, we have a rainbow this afternoon. It always looks to me like a great garden of flowers stretched in bands across the sky. I like to think that it's yellow, red and blue are made up of flowers like these in our garden here. Do you see that color next to the green? I love it. It is so dark and deep.

Many times I have wished we might have a flower here on Earth. Just like it surely you fairy artists would have no trouble to make a color like that. At least it wouldn't hurt for you to try. The Fairy artist sat with her eyes turn toward the rainbow until it had faded from sight and long after the sun had sunk to rest she sat alone under the trees thinking. One morning she called all the fairies to her dear fairies she said I am going to try and make a color like the dark one in the rainbow.

It may take me a long long while but one cannot give the children a greater joy than to add a new color to the flowers on earth. No one knew better than she that a great task lay before her. Many days and weeks she tried. Sometimes the mixture was lighter than the color in the rainbow and sometimes it seemed too dark. Never quite what she wished it to be. Once as she stood before the large bowl mixing and stirring patiently. She stopped and the fairies in the garden heard a shout of joy.

I have it the beautiful color the beautiful color. They hurried to the place where she always stood with her bowl and brash. See, it is the color indeed they said. But as they looked into the ball, the beautiful color began to fade and soon it was not at all like the color she had longed for. I see said the artist very sadly. It is of no use to mix together these paints that I have been using. We must gather my material from all the colors of the earth. My dear fairies, you must all help.

Many were sent far and wide to bring from the earth clays of every color they could find the artist very kept working faithfully and patiently. One day when she had worked harder and longer than usual. She heard one say surely are just very you do not mean to work all the evening. See, the sun is ready to sink. Just a little longer. I feel sure that the color will come before sunset. Look. Does it not begin even now to change? The fairies locked into the bowl and all exclaimed at once. The color at last.

It is indeed the deep color of the rainbow. Let us carry the ball to the top of the bank. And at moonlight we will celebrate the new joy that has come to us. It was a small bank that overlooked a little brook flowers had never grown there. And sometimes the fairies felt sad when they looked upon that bare spot in their garden. Perhaps the great tree that spread out its branches took more than its share of the sunshine. But the fairies loved this bank moonbeams always seem to lie so still there it's just the place for our moonlight celebration mindset. All the creatures of the fairies garden came to the celebration.

The night was glorious. The moon sent down her silvery beams earlier than usual. Although the fireflies insisted that there was no need of her shining so brightly and that she might throw all of her beams to the waves in the ER they looked so beautiful with a silver covering. Not a grasshopper went to bed and the frog made the music for the dance at which the crickets felt sad, for she knew her voice could not be heard above his. The flowers sang their sweetest songs about the new color that was to come among them.

It was not very late when the fairies joined hands and dance together around the ball. Perhaps this moonlight celebration would have lasted many hours longer. But as the fairies were finishing the dance, one of them touched the precious bowl and oh no. The next moment they saw the beautiful color flow in tiny dark streams down the hillside for a little while it glistened beneath the rays of the moon and then it sank into the dark earth. The Fairy stood and watched it helpless.

It is all lost. It is all gone in a moment that the artist fairy as she turned for comfort to the rest. No, No my dear fairy. Once you have once done you can do again. I do not remember how it was made. No, I don't think I can do it again. It is gone forever. Do not say that. Please. Have you not heard the saying that nothing is ever truly lost. Once more the raindrops visited the garden and the fairies worked all day long and all night long before everything was done. It is so refreshing when the garden has been washed clean again of its dust.

Look, cried one. See our bank this morning. It is covered with a carpet of purple Come let us look closer called another it is the color it is said the artists bury as she hurried toward the bank. Nothing is lost, she added softly as she looked close to. Purple Violets had been born that morning, while the raindrops fell and that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.