Lover's Festival

A farmer's daughter was so fair, and a banker's son was so charming; to be wed only in death's bed. These lyrics have always haunted my thoughts of love. I suppose they shaped my childhood notions. It was the rhyme we all heard as children in our small town. They sang it every year for the Lover’s Festival. The town had turned an old lover’s fable into hopeful merriment. We sang, we made wishes, and we prayed for love.

When the little town was just beginning, a banker’s son fell in love with the farmer’s daughter. They were not accepted by society just like all young couples. They had made a promise to escape in the spring and marry under new names. During the winter, they secretly met at a frozen pond. They would spend hours dancing on the ice, and expressing their love.

Time had passed, and the lover’s felt safe in their secret. Unexpectedly, one night, the ice had thinned. The thinned ice shattered under their weight. The girl was pulled under the ice first. Her lover, desperate to rescue her, dove into the icy waters. He swam until he found her frozen body. Holding her in his arms, he allowed himself to die. Neither body was ever recovered. It is one of many common love fables that inspire people.

People have often confessed to seeing a woman, dressed in a white farmer’s gown, standing on the outskirts of the lake. Others have seen a well dressed man floating under the ice. Those who have seen the woman have found success in love; while those who have seen the man lose their love. It was these frequent sightings that kept their myth alive, and led to the Lover’s Festival. People throw red roses onto the frozen pond in hopes of discovering their true love. Those who have found love, will tie a ribbon to a tree near the frozen pond. The color of the ribbon varies depending on what they hope for; further success, mourning a loss, or a gracious family, etc.

I had become one of the few who did not believe in these fabled stories. In truth, growing up with the myth had made me spiteful. The idea that a man would give his life for his lover seemed absurd. However, I did enjoy the events the festival created. Vendors would come with new assortments of food, people would tell stories or sing songs, children played games, and some would sell unique merchandise. Even the tawdry carnival rides were pleasant.

Enraptured in my spiteful mood, I had come alone to the frozen pond. It was covered in red roses. I could view the wind blowing the various tree ribbons in the distance. I finished tightening the laces on my skates. This late into the night, everyone had long since gone to bed. I struggled to find my balance on the ice. A blowing breeze made me tremble. Once I found my balance, I began skating along the firm ice. Each movement offered a moment of relaxation. I didn’t mind that my skates were cutting the freshly laid roses. Skating was what a frozen pond was truly meant for.

A few hours later, my eyes caught a glimpse of movement lurking within the trees. I forced myself to stop, hoping to get a better look. There was a woman standing in between two large trees at the edge of the frozen pond. She was dressed in a simple white gown. Her curled blonde hair didn’t go past her shoulders. The red from the rose stood out against her white gown. Someone must have arrived to throw a rose in secret. She tossed the rose onto the pond without a nod in my direction.

It was at that moment that I heard the ice cracking below me. Before I could move, I fell through the ice and into the icy water. A harsh cold began covering my skin. Looking upwards I wasn’t able to find the opening. Soon it felt like sharp needles were trying to pierce through my skin. I started swimming wildly hoping to find a way out. I even pounded against the ice.

Then someone grabbed me from behind. I was twirled around in the water. Floating in front of me was a finely dressed young man. He grabbed my head and pulled me closer. His lips pressed against mine. I could feel warm air being forced into my lungs. The warmth passed into my body. From the survivor stories, I knew I was close to death. However, being held by him and feeling his warmth, offered some much needed comfort.

I felt my body being tugged upwards. I watched as he released me with a kindhearted smile. Someone had lifted me from the water and back onto the ice. It was another young man dressed in a fuzzy winter coat. He took off his coat and started wrapping me in it. I felt him carry me back onto the solid ground. My limbs struggled to move. His lips firmly pressed against mine. Then he started pressing onto my chest. It felt like an eternity until the water forced its way out of my throat. As I coughed, my throat burned with pain.

He lifted me into his arms and carried me to a car. I struggled to say the words thank you. I could finally hear his reassurances. He laid me in the back of the vehicle. After securing me with the seatbelts, he got into the driver's seat and drove away. It was then that I knew I was safe. I had met the spirits and been amazingly blessed with a future of love. It was just as the stories had foretold. A love that begins in winter blossoms in spring.