Baba Dochia and Mărțișor

This legend, full of parables, tells us about Dochia’s Rock. It seems to be the result of the punishment of a mean and freakish old hag, whose end is related, year after year, to the coming of spring…

They say that in a village near Ceahlău there lived a woman who the older she grew, meaner and more peevish she became. Some say she hadn’t been so sour, but her heart gradually turned sour when, one winter, she lost her husband in the teeth of some wolves… Then, she somewhat forgot her sorrow caring for her flock of sheep and her son Dragomir! (As a lad used to hanging on to his mum’s skirt, he neither got married nor did he step aside his mother’s wishes or yard, but he brought the daughter-in-law to his parents’ home. The poor girl, no matter how diligent and obedient she was, she had no rest with her old crone of a mother-in-law.

One day, about the end of winter, what do you think crossed the old woman’s mind? Well, Măriuța should go to the river, with a bag full of black wool and wash it like mad until it turns white! So, the poor young woman toiled herself for two days in a row, with her hands in the icy waters, but not a thread turned white. On the third day, while she was washing and shedding tears on the banks of the river, a lad come up of nowhere beside her. Upon finding out about her troubles, he gave her a white flower and – what do you think? – such a wonder! – the wool instantly turned as white as snow. The daughter-in-law rushed to the house to take the numbness out of her body, but the merciless old hag, staring in amazement, did find another chore for the young woman: to take all the white wool to the river and wash it until it would turn black!

The young woman headed for the river in tears but, when she was to put the wool into the water, the lad appeared again, giving her a red flower now. Poor girl, she barely asked what his name was, so that she could pray Our Lord for his good health, that the young man vanished while saying that his name was Mărțișor. And there was another wonder, the white wool turned black, even darker than coal! Măriuța put the flower behind her ear and… hurried back home, hopping merrily because she was once again saved from the old hag’s hauling.

This time the old hag was even more wonder-struck and asked her what she did and how. When she learned of the young Mărțișor, the wicked woman couldn’t bear it any more: “Ha, he turned your head with deceit, didn’t he? What kind of a wife are you to go hither and thither with flowers lads gave you in your hair?” As soon as his son came home, she told him the whole story.

However, as she was completely not in her right mind, while remembering Mărțișor’s flowers, the old hag thought they were picked from up there in Ceahlău, where spring may have come, and the pastures await for her and her sheep: “Come, hurry up, my boy! Let’s take the sheep up in the mountains before the others find out the news and spoil the grass with their flocks!” Dragomir didn’t seem to be in a hurry as he came home from the woods, hungry and dead on his feet. Old hag Dochia went to take the sheep out of the enclosure. Then, as she was still wearing thick clothes, nine sheepskins altogether, against the frost, started hastily with the flock of sheep toward the top of Mount Ceahlău (she could barely find a minute to shout at his son, from the gate, to follow her the next day!)…

Going up grew harder and harder. There were spring-like breezes in the air and the old hag, who would step heartily, driving her sheep from behind to the green pastures, in her dreams, grew hotter and hotter and started to take off her sheepskins. Then a warm drizzle began and her burden of sheepskins grew as heavy as lead. Close to the top of the mountain, throwing away the last sheepskin, she was wearing only her hempen shimmy.

Then, God’s punishment for the strain and frosty days she had been given to her daughter-in-law, suddenly rushed upon her! A snowstorm broke out as if in the dead of winter and the frost engulfed the rocks and the valleys, the fir trees and the juniper, the barely grown pastures, dressing everything in an icy shirt. Under the same glass-like cover, Old hag Dochia and her sheep were stoned. As to the young Mărțișor, so kind to Măriuța, he was – legend has it – none other than the Son of God, our Saviour Jesus Christ…