The Mushrooms

After a warm rain, a sturdy porcini mushroom sprang up beneath an old oak. He sat there, looking at all the mushrooms and wondering how to arrange a forest…

After a warm rain, a sturdy porcini mushroom sprang up beneath an old oak. He sat there, looking at all the mushrooms and wondering how to arrange a forest celebration from the days of Tsar Gorokh. The celebration needed decorations, treats, lanterns, and a large stage. An invitation hung from a branch: the guests were expected the next morning. The porcini straightened his brown cap and called his neighbors to a council.

First he turned to the beliyanki, the white mushrooms. “We are mushroom noblewomen,” they replied. “We cannot carry heavy logs, but we can weave white wreaths.” The beliyanki immediately began choosing the most even petals. The saffron milk caps called themselves prosperous peasants and brought copper-colored leaves for decorations. The porcini understood that everyone could find a useful task if they were asked rather than ordered.

The woolly milk caps, cooks from the manor, set about making berry pies. They kneaded the dough in acorn cups. The honey mushrooms pointed to their slender stems and admitted that they could not move the stage, but their whole close-knit family hung lanterns between the stumps. By evening the clearing glowed, but after a strong wind, a heavy branch fell across the path.

Then the sturdy milk mushrooms arrived. “We stand together, and we are ready to help!” they said. The milk mushrooms lifted the branch together, while the porcini placed a round stone beneath it. Soft green moss appeared under the branch at once. When the beliyanki, saffron milk caps, woolly milk caps, and honey mushrooms saw them, they too hurried to the path. Working together, everyone rolled the branch aside and reinforced the stage before the celebration began.

The next morning, Tsar Gorokh opened the merry fair. The white wreaths gleamed, the copper-colored leaves rustled, the pies smelled of forest berries, and the lanterns twinkled even beneath the oak. The porcini thanked everyone and said that true strength lay not in war but in working together. From then on, the mushrooms gathered in the clearing not to fight, but to help the forest.