Chinese Folklore: The Flower Elves

Folklore doesn’t just give us a glimpse at how other cultures viewed the world. It can also help us look at the world in a new way. Beltane celebrations often involve flowers, so I wanted to share a retelling of a Chinese folk tale that provides an explanation for why some plants are so sturdy. It also shows the good that can happen when one respects and protects nature. This Chinese tale, the Flower Elves, is retold below. After you read it, think about the lessons you can take from it into your Beltane celebrations and your everyday practice of Witchcraft.

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Long ago, when magick was commonly seen on earth, and magickal beings had not yet retreated behind the veil, there was a scholar who lived in a city. He was prosperous and well-liked, but he had grown tired of city life and yearned for deeper knowledge. To the surprise of his colleagues, he packed up his belongings and sought the profound wisdom of nature. He built a cottage in a secret place, and in the fields surrounding it, he planted every type of flower, bamboo, plant, and tree he could. The garden grove surrounded his cottage, concealing it from all but him and the servant boy who lived in a hut nearby.

The scholar loved his garden as he would a child and spent many hours caring for it and meditating in it. He never left the boundaries of his garden, sure that the knowledge he sook could be found within. Under the light of the moon, he would drink wine and look to nature for answers and new wisdom. One warm spring evening, the full moon shining clearly, the scholar sat in his garden with his wine goblet and sighed his thanks for the gifts he had been given: his life, his knowledge, his home, his garden.

As he lifted the goblet to his lips, he was surprised to see a maiden in flowing robes approach him. Curtseying, she greeted the scholar, “Good evening. My sisters and I are your neighbors and on our way to visit the eighteen Aunts of Zephyr. With your permission, we would rest in your court a while before continuing.”

The scholar had no neighbors but was so taken with the grace and beauty of the maiden that he brushed that aside and gladly consented.

The maiden nodded in thanks and hurried away. She returned shortly with three other young maidens, all dressed in beautiful, flowing robes, carrying baskets of willow filled with flowers and fruit. Each time they moved their arms, their sleeves would flutter, and a fragrance sweeter and more delightful than any other the scholar had ever known would escape in the courtyard.

The scholar had his servant bring a table and invited the maidens to sit and dine with him in the courtyard. As they feasted on fruit and flowers and nectar sweeter than any man had ever tasted, the scholar grew the courage to query his remarkable guests.

“I have no neighbors living in this secret place. Who are you really? Do I have the honor of entertaining princesses from the palace of the Lady in the Moon? Are you some nobility from a nearby kingdom gracing my humble home with your presence?”

The maidens giggled, embarrassed at the high praise. “We could not claim such high descent, though you are kind to suggest it,” said the maiden in the dark green robes. “I am Salix.” Smiling, she presented the maiden sat across from her, dressed in white, “This is my sister Prunophora.” Motioning to the one in rose robes sat diagonally from her, she told the scholar, “another of my sisters, Persica.” Finally, she introduced the one in the dark red gown, “and my other sister, Punica.”

“And where are you going, fair sisters?” the scholar asked.

“We travel to visit the Aunts of Zephyr. But it is a long journey. The silver light of the moon graced your garden, and the beauty called to us. We cannot adequately express our thanks that you took pity on us and allowed us to rest here. “

Before the scholar could respond, his servant appeared, “A large group of women has appeared at the garden gate and announced themselves as the Zephyr Aunts.”

The maidens quickly rose and went to the garden gate to greet them. As they returned to the moonlit courtyard, the maidens told the older women how they had been on their way to meet them. “We merely stopped to rest here a moment. How fortuitous that you should come here too! Let us celebrate the good luck and this lovely evening together. We shall raise a goblet of nectar in your honor, Aunts!”

The scholar invited them all to sit at the table and feast with him and the maidens, as there was more than enough food. As they passed him to reach the table, he noted a chill breeze that moved with them.

The Aunts were talkative and clumsy, words coming out in seemingly unending gushes, arms knocking over anything that might be within reach. But still, the evening passed pleasantly, all feasting on the delicious meal and drinking of the other-worldly nectar. The four maidens rose and danced at one point. When they did so, every flower in the garden seemed to exhale its fragrance into the air, and the scholar believed for a moment that he must have entered heaven. After the dances, toasts were given by the maidens—the first to honor the Aunts and the second to honor the scholar.

While raising her goblet, one of the Aunts in her clumsiness poured some dark nectar on Punica’s dress. Angrily, Punica jumped to her feet, for she was younger and fierier than her sisters and not as practiced in concealing her emotions.

“You are too careless!” she shouted at the Aunt. The other sisters covered their mouths in fear at her outburst.

Angered at the insult from the maiden, the Aunts gathered themselves up and hastily left the scholar’s garden.

The other maidens tried to stop them. They apologized and pleaded with the Aunts, “Please bear her no ill-will! She is young and still learning. She will gladly come to you tomorrow for her punishment if you will only stay this evening!”

But the Aunts would not be placated and made their exit from the festivities. And so the maidens walked into the flowers to also take their leave and seemed to the scholar to disappear directly into the flowers and the night.

The next night, the scholar sat again in his courtyard, dreamily remembering the night before, when to his surprise, the maidens returned.

“We have a confession,” they told him. “We live in your garden and have thrived with your care. However, each year, we are tormented by high winds and strong storms. We were to ask the eighteen Aunts to protect us. Now, with Punica having insulted them, a dangerous and deadly storm is sure to be coming. So we have come to ask a favor of you if you wish to continue to care for us.”

The scholar nodded and asked what the favor was.

“On the first day of each new year, get a fresh scarlet cloth. Turn the cloth into a flag by painting the sun, the moon, and the five planets upon it. Stake it in the east of the garden. This will protect us. As this year’s new year has already passed, we ask that you place the flag on the 21st of this month to protect us from the coming storm. The east wind is coming in retribution for Punica’s insolence, and we must be protected.”

Slightly confused at their confession that they lived in his garden (for he had never seen them before), the scholar nevertheless promised to fulfill the favor and stake the flag.

With a song-like, single voice, the sisters thanked him for his kindness and promised to repay it. Their departure filled the entire garden with the sweet fragrances from the night before.

On the morning of the 21st day, the scholar placed the flag he had made in the eastern part of the garden. Sure enough, not long after, a terrible storm that bent trees and rattled walls swept through the lands. Yet the flowers in his garden remained undisturbed.

As he looked out over the garden, he understood who had visited him. The maidens were a part of his garden—the Flower Elves. Salix, the willow. Prunophora, the plum. Persica, the peach. Punica, the pomegranate. All their blossoms were now so strong the wind could not tear them. He knew then the Aunts they had angered were the spirits of the winds.

That evening, after the storm passed, the Flower Elves visited the scholar, this time with one large willow basket filled with flowers he had never seen before.

“We are grateful that you have saved us,” the sisters said. “We don’t have much to offer in thanks. But if you eat these flowers, you will be granted a long life and restored youth. In return for planting the flag each year, we will bring you these flowers.”

The scholar gladly accepted their gift and was restored to his youth. He lived long, protecting the Flower Elves and gaining the deeper wisdom he came to nature to find.