This story happened in the old days. A gypsy family lived in one village. They lived sedentary, poor lives. Their hut was so unprepossessing that there was nothing to look at: the roof was askew, cracks were visible in the walls, and the wind whistled through these cracks.
And then a rumor spread throughout the village that in such and such a place a treasure was buried and that this treasure was ancient. So the gypsy chose a darker bud, harnessed his horse and went for the treasure.
The gypsy drove up to the place where the treasure was buried and began to dig. How much or how little time has passed - no one knows about it, only suddenly the gypsy's shovel hit something hard. The gypsy was delighted and began to dig faster. The gypsy dug up a large stone slab. “Here,” he thinks, “I’ll lift this slab and become a rich man. My family will live in Prosperity, merchants will bow when they meet me.” However, the gypsy tried to lift the slab, but he saw: it was an empty task, there was no way to cope alone. The gypsy rushed home, took his brother-in-law with him, and took the children, the older ones. Again they all began to lift the slab together, but the slab did not even move.
The next morning, news of the treasure spread throughout the village. Men came running with crowbars and shovels and began to turn out this slab.
- Nothing! There is enough treasure for everyone, the villagers decided among themselves.
The men fussed and fussed around the slab, and tried to lift it this way and that, but it was all in vain: the slab seemed to have grown into the ground - they couldn’t move it from its place, and that’s all. The men spat and dispersed.
However, let's stop talking about this. Midsummer day has arrived. People gathered in the church: the priest was listening. And the gypsy and his family are sitting right there on the porch. At midnight, when the service ended, the people began to disperse. And at that time everyone wore bast shoes, woven from birch bast. Here comes a gypsy from the church, looking at his feet: what is it? A radiance emanates from one bast shoe. The gypsy took a closer look, and this strange flower was stuck in his bast shoe. He showed the flower to his mother, and she said to him:
- Son, what happiness! This only happens once a year - on Midsummer's Day. This flower blooms for the person to whom the treasure wants to be revealed. This, son, is news for you from the owner of the treasure.
I let the gypsies go home and grabbed a shovel. He grabbed his brother-in-law just in case, and they went to the place where the stone slab was. The gypsies arrived, jumped into the hole, grabbed the slab with their hands, and it gave way on its own, becoming as light as a feather. They moved the stove aside and looked: and under it stood a cauldron, filled to the top with gold. The gypsies pulled out the cauldron, put it on a cart, and wrapped it in a matting. Just as they were about to leave, an old man crawls out of the hole - all gray, shaggy hair, erect eyebrows. This old man gets out and says:
- Don't rush to return home. Not all the treasure has yet been given to you. Drive here and there, you will see a village, behind it a river flows, and there is a bridge across the river. Look under this bridge, there is a forty-bucket barrel of gold hidden. The gypsies were delighted at such a miracle, whipped their horses and rushed off, did not even say goodbye to the old man, they even forgot to thank him. The old man shook his head, grinned, and fell into that hole again. The wind came and leveled the hole. And the grass rose from above.
The gypsies arrive at the indicated place, pass through the village, and approach the river. Suddenly he sees a gypsy: his magical flower has disappeared somewhere.
- What's happened? - the gypsy says to his brother-in-law. “There was just a flower, and suddenly it’s gone!”
- Yes, you probably dropped it on the way! - the brother-in-law answers. - God be with him, with this flower, we know the place, so we no longer need this flower. Take off your clothes, let's go look for the barrel.
The gypsies undressed, went into the water, and began to look for gold. They climbed and climbed, almost drowned in the river, but the barrel was gone.
“Apparently, this old man deceived us,” the brother-in-law said to the gypsy, his teeth chattering from the cold, crawling out onto the shore.
The gypsies returned home, told everything how it had happened, and the mother said:
- Eh, son, you should have thanked that old man, but you were in a hurry to go for the gold. So he took the magic flower.
However, the treasure that was given to the gypsy was enough for him and his children for the rest of their lives.
The gypsy became rich, built a new house, bought a shop, and began to live happily.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru