Des pierres blanches, un singe et un crocodile : autres réflexions sur la magie dans la vie quotidienne

The Friday following the one when the black stones appeared and disappeared, I went back to Emmaüs to see if the person who’d taken them home inadvertently might have brought them back.

Le vendredi suivant celui où les pierres noires étaient apparues puis avaient disparu, je suis retourné à Emmaüs pour voir si la personne qui les avait emportées chez elle par inadvertance les avait peut-être rapportées.

The day began well with a slow drive—our Ami only goes 45km (28mph)—through the hills, lush green with all the rain, while chatting with a friend, Anu, who’s only in Cordes a short time each year.

La journée a bien commencé par une balade tranquille en voiture – notre Ami ne roule qu’à 45 km/h – à travers les collines verdoyantes après la pluie, tout en discutant avec une amie, Anu, qui ne passe que peu de temps à Cordes chaque année. 

It was on our walk to Emmaüs from the car that I made my first mistake. As I was telling Anu about the ephemeral black stones, we passed a woman talking to a couple as she bent over to arrange some white stones in a tray in front of her garage door. We laughed—white stones this week!—and I’m certain I heard the words, “la magie des pierres,” (the magic of stones) but we didn’t stop to hear more.

C’est lors de notre promenade entre Emmaüs et la voiture que j’ai commis ma première erreur. Alors que je parlais à Anu des pierres noires éphémères, nous avons croisé une femme qui discutait avec un couple, penchée pour ranger des pierres blanches dans un plateau devant la porte de son garage. Nous avons ri– des pierres blanches cette semaine !–et je suis certaine d’avoir entendu les mots « la magie des pierres », mais nous ne nous sommes pas arrêtées pour en savoir plus. 

Did I pause to hear more? No.

Me suis-je arrêté pour en savoir plus ? Non. 

The black stones had not been returned to the store. My round table wasn’t there, not was the small carpet for the upstairs landing.

Les pierres noires n’avaient pas été rapportées au magasin. Ma table ronde n’était pas là, pas plus que le petit tapis destiné au palier à l’étage.

But, in the same place in the kitchen section that I’d found the black stones on the glass candy dish the previous week, I found a brass monkey on a crocodile.

Mais, au même endroit dans la section cuisine où j’avais trouvé les pierres noires sur le plat à bonbons en verre la semaine précédente, j’ai trouvé un singe en laiton sur un crocodile.

“What a treasure!” said the guardian of the kitchen section as she wrapped my 1€ find in newspaper.

« Quel trésor ! » s’exclama la gardienne du rayon cuisine en emballant ma trouvaille à 1 € dans du papier journal. 

On our way out of the store, I unwrapped it to show Anu, who, being Indian, immediately recognized that my treasure was from the Panchatantra teaching story, “The Monkey and the Crocodile.” We were talking about that as we passed the tray of white stones, still displayed in front of the garage door.

En sortant du magasin, je l’ai déballé pour le montrer à Anu qui, étant indienne, a immédiatement reconnu que mon trésor provenait du conte pédagogique du Panchatantra, « Le singe et le crocodile ». Nous en parlions en passant devant le plateau de pierres blanches, toujours exposé devant la porte du garage. 

Did I stop to take a picture? No.

Est-ce que je me suis arrêté pour prendre une photo ? Non.

When I came home, I looked up the story. Here’s my favorite rendition of it:

The Monkey and the Crocodile

https://worldstories.org.uk/reader/the-monkey-and-the-crocodile/english/993

Once upon a time, a monkey lived in a tree by a river. The monkey was alone as he had no friends or family but he was happy and content. The tree gave him plenty of sweet jamun fruit to eat. It also gave him shade from the sun and shelter from the rain.

One day, a crocodile was swimming up the river. He climbed on to the bank to rest under the monkey’s tree.

‘Hello,’ called the monkey, who was a friendly animal.

‘Hello,’ replied the crocodile, surprised. ‘Do you know where I can get some food?’ he asked. ‘I haven’t had anything to eat all day and I am hungry.’

Now you might think that the crocodile would want to eat the monkey, but this was a very kind and gentle crocodile and the thought never entered his head.

‘I have lots of fruit in my tree. Would you like to try some?’ said the monkey, who was also very kind.

He threw some jamun fruit down to the crocodile. The crocodile was so hungry that he ate up all the jamuns even though crocodiles don’t usually eat fruit. He loved the sweet tangy fruit and the pink flesh made his tongue turn purple.

‘Come back whenever you want more fruit,’ said the monkey, when the crocodile had eaten all he wanted.

Soon the crocodile was visiting the monkey every day. The two animals became good friends. They would talk, tell each other stories and eat lots of sweet jamuns together.

One day, the crocodile told the monkey about his wife and family.

‘Please take some fruit for your wife as well when you go back today,’ said the monkey.

The crocodile’s wife loved the jamuns. She had never eaten anything so sweet before but she was not as kind and gentle as her husband.

‘Imagine how sweet the monkey would taste as he eats these jamuns every day,’ she said to her husband.

The kind crocodile tried to explain to his wife that he could not possibly eat the monkey.

‘He is my best friend,’ he said.

The crocodile’s greedy wife would not listen. To get her husband to do what she wanted, she pretended to be ill.

‘I am dying and only a sweet monkey’s heart can cure me!’ she cried to her husband. ‘If you love me, you will catch your friend the monkey and let me eat his heart.’

The poor crocodile did not know what to do. He did not want to eat his friend but he could not let his wife die.

At last, he decided what he must do and the next time he visited the monkey he asked him to come to meet his wife as she wanted to thank him in person for the lovely jamun fruit.

The monkey was pleased but said he could not possibly go because he did not know how to swim.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ said the crocodile. ‘I’ll carry you on my back.’

The monkey agreed and jumped onto the crocodile’s back.

So the two friends moved out into the deep wide river.

When they were far away from the bank and the jamun tree, the crocodile said, ‘I am so sorry but my wife is very ill and says that the only cure is a monkey’s heart. I am afraid that I have to kill you, although I will miss our talks.’

The monkey thought quickly and said, ‘Dear friend, I am very sorry to hear of your wife’s illness. I am glad that I will be able to help her but I have left my heart behind in the jamun tree. Do you think we could go back so that I can fetch it?’

The crocodile believed the monkey. He turned and swam quickly to the jamun tree. The monkey jumped off his back and climbed into the safety of his tree.

‘I thought you were my friend,’ he called. ‘Don’t you know that we carry our hearts within us? I will never trust you again or give you fruit from my tree. Go away and don’t come back.’

The crocodile felt foolish. He had lost a friend and a supply of good sweet fruit. The monkey had saved himself because he had thought quickly. From that day on, he never trusted crocodiles again.

Quand je suis rentré chez moi, j’ai cherché cette histoire. Voici un lien vers le conte en français :

Le Singe et le Crocodile

It took me about a week of asking my French neighbors to learn that putting white stones in front of your house for good luck or to make it welcoming is an old, local custom, and even longer to find an article about it.

Il m’a fallu environ une semaine pour apprendre, en interrogeant mes voisins français, que placer des pierres blanches devant sa maison pour porter chance ou la rendre accueillante est une ancienne coutume locale, et encore plus longtemps pour trouver un article à ce sujet.

https://lapidem.fr/les-pierres-de-guerison-dans-les-campagnes-francaises/

The article begins:

“Healing stones in the French countryside: forgotten knowledge

Not so long ago, the French countryside was rich in ancestral knowledge passed down from generation to generation, whispered in hushed tones or through age-old gestures. Among these traditions, the art of healing with stones, known as lithotherapy, held a discreet but essential place in the daily lives of villagers.”

Since learning about the magic of white stones, I’ve noticed how often there’s one white cobblestone on the street in front of houses, or a white stone placed at the corner of a house. I got to know my neighbors better by asking my neighbors about the custom, and I put a couple white stones on my own windowsill, too.

Depuis que j’ai découvert la magie des pierres blanches, j’ai remarqué qu’il y avait souvent un pavé blanc devant les maisons ou une pierre blanche placée au coin d’une maison. J’ai adoré interroger mes voisins sur cette coutume et j’ai moi-même placé deux pierres blanches sur le rebord de ma fenêtre.

So, even though I missed the opportunity to learn the magic of the stones from the woman in Carmaux, and I missed the chance to take a picture there, I did get another good story.

Ainsi, même si j’ai raté l’occasion d’apprendre la magie des pierres auprès de la femme de Carmaux, et même si je n’ai pas pu prendre de photo là-bas, j’ai tout de même obtenu une autre belle histoire.

The moral of the Monkey and the Crocodile and of my own story is similar.

Even though bad things happen, good thinking and smart actions can lead to happy endings.

La morale de l’histoire du singe et du crocodile, et celle de ma propre histoire, est similaire..

Même lorsque des événements malheureux surviennent, une réflexion positive et des actions intelligentes peuvent mener à une issue heureuse.