Once upon a time, there was once a woman who had a daughter she loved, and a stepdaughter she couldn't stand, even though, or perhaps because of it, Marushka, the stepdaughter, was fair, kind, and wise, but the woman's own daughter, Holena, was as mean as her mother.

After the father died, mother and daughter made Marushka, do all the work of cooking, washing, sewing, sweeping, gardening and milking the cow, while Holena gazed in the mirror trying endlessly to improve her appearance. In spite of all the work, or perhaps because of it, Marushka grew brighter and livelier day by day. In spite of her lazy life, or perhaps because of it, Holena grew sourer and sourer.

One January day, Holena thought she could not stand Marushka another moment. “Maruska,” she ordered, “Violets! I want violets! Go into the forest and find me some!”

“But sister, whoever heard of violets growing in January?”

“Find some!” Holena took Marushka by the shoulders and pushed her out the door.

Thick white snow covered the ground. Marushka shivered as afternoon faded into night. At last, she saw a faint light on a nearby mountain, climbed towards it, and came to a great fire. Around the flames stood twelve huge stones, with one taller than all the rest. A person sat on each stone, gazing at the fire.

Marushka stepped forward. “Greetings, good souls. May I please warm myself at your fire?"

A white-haired man on the tallest stone, motioned Marushka closer. “Welcome to the fire. My name is January. Why are you out in the snow, dear?”

“I'm hunting for violets,” said Marushka. “My sister says I must bring her some. Do you know where I might find any?”

January walked over to a curly-haired, laughing, blue-eyed boy, and handed him a wooden wand. “Here, March, you take high seat.”

March climbed onto the high seat and waved the wand over the fire. Flames blazed up. Snow began to melt. Violets began to pop up, and soon it looked as if a blue and pink quilt of flowers had been spread on the ground.

Marushka gathered a great bunch, thanked March, and hurried home. Imagine Holena's surprise when she saw Marushka coming in at the door with violets. “Where did you get them?” she demanded.

“High in the mountains. The ground was covered with them.”

Without a word of thanks, Holena snatched the violets, pinned them to her dress, and sniffed their fragrance all day.

The next morning, she ordered, “Marushka, get me some strawberries!”

“Sister, whoever heard of strawberries growing in winter?”

“Bring me some, or I'll slap you!”

So Marushka climbed up the snowy mountain to the stone circle by the fire to say her sister had demanded strawberries.

January shook his head, and walked over to a smiling, rosy-cheeked, green-eyed, woman with long brown braids. “Here, June, you take the high seat.”

So June took the high seat, waving the wand over the fire. Flames blazed high and the snow melted away. Starry white blossoms appeared on little green plants. Then blossoms turned to fruit, first green, then pink, then ripe red strawberries. Marushka filled her apron, thanked June, and hurried home.

When Holena saw the strawberries, without a word of thanks, she gobbled them all up.

The next day, Holena ordered “Get me some red apples or I'll hit you.”

Marushka climbed again to the mountain top.

“What are you looking for now, Marushka?” asked January.

“Red apples.”

January handed the wand to a woman with deep set eyes, and dark hair streaked with gray. “September, you take the high seat.”

September waved the wand, and the fire glowed. An apple tree sprang up, with apples ripe and ready on its branches.

Marushka picked one apple, then another, thanked September, and hurried home.

Holena and her mother were more surprised than ever to see Marushka coming in from the snow with two red apples.

“Where did you get them?”

“High on the mountain,”

“But you only brought two?” Holena bit into an apple. Her mother bit into the other, and declared that she'd never tasted anything so good. No sooner were they done, than they wanted more.

“Mother. Get my fur cloak. We're going ourselves this time.”

So the mother and Holena went out in the snow, determined to find apples. They found their way to the stone circle, went right to the fire without a word of greeting, and began to warm themselves, without asking.

Old January frowned. “Who are you?”

“What business is it of yours, you old fool?” When Holena and her mother had warmed themselves, they walked off into the forest.

January's frown grew deeper. He waved the wand over his head. The fire died down. Icy wind slashed across the mountain. Snow fell so fast and thick that it looked as if someone was emptying a huge white feather bed.

Holena and her mother could not see one step ahead. The snow kept falling. The wind kept blowing.

At home, Marushka cooked dinner, and waited and waited but still they didn't come. The next day the sun came out. But Holena and her mother never did come.

In spring when the snow melted, two curved stones were discovered on the mountain, leaning towards each other like two pieces of a broken heart. Perhaps they stand there still.

As for Marushka, she lived a long, happy life, always grateful to all twelve months in the circle of Mother Nature's year.