Ivasyk-Telesyk - Ukrainian

Hello. My name is Ivasyk-Telesyk, and I want to tell you about a big adventure I had a long, long time ago. I lived with my dear mother and father in a cozy little house right by a wide, shimmering river. My father carved me a beautiful golden boat and a shiny silver oar, and my greatest joy was to row out onto the water to fish. My parents warned me, 'Only come back to the shore when you hear your mother's sweet voice calling.' I always listened, but I never knew that this simple rule would one day be the start of the famous Ukrainian tale of Ivasyk-Telesyk.

One sunny afternoon, while I was fishing, a wicked witch named Zmiya watched me from the reeds. She wanted to catch me, so she called out in her deep, gravelly voice, 'Ivasyk-Telesyk, my son, come to the shore. I have brought you lunch.' But I knew it wasn't my mother's voice and stayed on the river. The angry witch ran to the village blacksmith and asked him to make her voice high and sweet like a mother's. The blacksmith did as she asked, and the witch returned to the river. This time, when she called, her voice sounded exactly like my mother's. Thinking my mother was waiting, I happily rowed my golden boat to the shore, where the witch quickly snatched me up and carried me away to her hut on chicken legs.

At her strange hut, the witch told her daughter, Olena, to prepare the oven to cook me. But I was not just brave; I was very clever. When Olena told me to sit on the big wooden peel to be put in the oven, I pretended I didn't know how. 'I'm just a little boy,' I said. 'I don't know how to sit on it properly. Can you show me?'. Annoyed, Olena sat on the peel to demonstrate. In a flash, I pushed the peel into the oven, shut the heavy door, and scrambled out of the hut as fast as my legs could carry me.

I ran and ran until I found a tall sycamore tree and climbed to the very top to hide. Soon, I saw a flock of geese flying overhead. 'Oh, dear geese, please take me home to my mother and father.' I cried. The first flock was in too much of a hurry. The second flock said I was too heavy. But then a third flock appeared, and a small, young goose at the very back heard my plea. 'Climb on my back,' the kind goose honked. I held on tight, and the little goose flew me all the way home. My parents were overjoyed to see me, hugging me and thanking the brave little goose for bringing their son back.

For generations, parents in Ukraine have told my story to their children. It’s a story that reminds us to listen carefully to our parents, to be clever when we are scared, and that help can come from the most unexpected places—even from the smallest goose in the flock. Today, my story inspires cartoons, puppet shows, and beautiful paintings. It’s a reminder that even when things seem dark, a little bit of wit and a kind heart can help you find your way home, keeping the spirit of adventure alive for children everywhere.