In ancient times, an old man and his granddaughter lived in the same mountain village. They lived poorly, all their wealth was a very small piece of land, the size of a cat’s forehead.
Every morning the grandfather and granddaughter went to their field and worked in it from dawn to dusk. And the field, although small, fed them with radishes, melons, and even beans.
One day the old man decided to plant radishes. The granddaughter agreed.
“Grandfather, I really love radishes,” he says. “If it grows, you and I won’t go hungry in winter.”
They dug up the ground, began throwing seeds and saying: “Radish, radish, come up!” Radish, radish, freak out! Grow up big for the joy of your grandfather and granddaughter!”
They planted the seeds and waited for the leaves to appear.
A few days later they see that their field has turned green. The grandfather and granddaughter were delighted:
- Look how many radishes there will be! We are not afraid of winter now!
It's time to water the radishes. The old man and his granddaughter began to walk to the stream, but the path was not short, everything was downhill, downhill. They scoop up a bucket - and back, all uphill, uphill. But here’s the problem: as soon as they water the field, the radish starts waving its leaves, as if asking: “Drink! Drink!". So the old man and his granddaughter walked on the water all day.
Only then one day they went down to the stream, and they were stupefied - there was no water in the stream, it had dried up. The granddaughter was sad and cried:
- What will happen to us now? Our radish will die, and we will die of hunger!
The old man thought, thought about where to get water, and came up with:
- Let’s go to Mount Toga, where the god Sombutsu lives.
- God Sombutsu? - the granddaughter was surprised. - Who is this?
“This is a very important god, the god of thunderstorms,” answered the grandfather. “All the rains in the world depend on him.” He sends, if he wants, hail and downpours to the earth.
“Well, since he’s so important and can help us, let’s go,” the granddaughter sighed.
They got ready and went to Mount Toga. The mountain path winds and runs higher and higher.
- How far is it still? - asks the granddaughter.
“We’re passing the grove, and it’s just a stone’s throw away,” the grandfather answers her. They finally climbed the mountain.
“Well, here we come,” said the old man.
The granddaughter looks and can’t understand where they came. There is a rock on top, and under it there is a hole.
- What is this? — the granddaughter was surprised. “Is this rock really the great thunder god Sombutsu?”
“Yes,” answered the old man. “This is the god Sombutsu.” This is a sacred rock.
He bowed to the rock at the waist, sat down next to him, and folded his hands in prayer.
“God Sombutsu, send us rain on the field,” the old man began to ask.
“Help us, good god Sombutsu, our radish is dying.” Save us from hunger! - the granddaughter began to ask.
They sat for a long time, but they never heard the voice of the god Sombutsu.
The next day the grandfather and granddaughter came to the rock again, and again the god Sombutsu did not say anything to them. Meanwhile, the radish has completely withered, dropped its leaves, and is about to die.
On the eighth day, the grandfather and granddaughter woke up and looked - the sky was clear again, not a single cloud was visible.
“Apparently, the great God of Thunder Sombutsu is not as kind as people say,” the old man grumbled. “He doesn’t want to hear our prayers.”
Well, there's nothing to do. The grandfather and granddaughter went to the sacred rock again. They began to ask again:
- Have mercy on us, God Sombutsu, send us at least some rain! Water our field! Save our radishes!
The rock is silent, the God of Thunder Sombutsu does not answer them. The old man got really angry and started shouting:
- People lie that you can help! You are not a god, but a fraudster!
He picked up a stone from the ground, and how it hit the rock! The stone rolled and fell to the bottom of the very hole that was at the foot of the cliff.
Here the rock began to hum, staggered, and a hoarse voice came from the hole:
-Who dared to throw stones at me? Who disturbed my sleep? Here I am for you!
The old man and his granddaughter were scared.
- Oh, save me! - they shouted and ran away from the rock. And then the old man says:
“Forgive me, great God of Thunder Sombutsu, for throwing a stone at you.” I just don’t have the strength to endure your silence anymore. We have been coming to you for eight days, asking for rain. And you are still silent.
The old man said this and looked and saw that the rock had stopped rocking.
- Eight days, you say, go? - asked the God of the Storm. - Well, forgive me, forgive me! Yes, you apparently come to me during the day. And I really like to take a nap during the day, but I fall asleep so soundly that I don’t hear anything. Don't be angry, forgive me!
“Okay,” answered the old man, “I’m not angry.” Well, now will you send us rain on the field?
- Why not send it? — the Thunder God laughed. “It’s a pity, isn’t it?”
He took a deep breath, chased away his drowsiness, and then shouted:
- Hey you, faithful servants, wake up! There's something for you!
Something muttered in the deep hole, groaned, and then suddenly smoke poured out of it. The smoke stretched to the sky, and lo and behold, the thunderbolts were already sitting there, apparently or invisibly. Everyone is on their own cloud.
- Wow! — the grandfather and granddaughter were surprised. “It turns out that this is how rains are made.”
- Hey, don't yawn! - the God of Thunder Sombutsu shouted to the thundermen. - Better yet, give them rain on the field, and it’s wetter!
The thundermen heard the order and immediately got to work - they began to beat the clouds with mallets as hard as they could. There were peals of thunder, lightning flashed, a dark cloud covered the sky and rain poured onto the ground.
- Eh, good! - shout the older thundermen.
- Hey, give me more! - shout the younger ones.
The grandfather and granddaughter were happy about the rain. They thanked the Storm God and hurried home. They ran to the field and saw that their radishes had risen, the leaves had turned green, and their white heads were sticking out of the ground. The grandfather and granddaughter reaped a significant harvest that year.
And in those parts, from that very time on, a custom arose: when the dry summer comes, the village boys will go to Mount Toga to the God of Thunder Sombutsu. They throw a stone into a deep hole and God will wake up from sleep. The old people say that after this it always starts to rain.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru