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From the island of Fiji
Once, long ago, there lived in a village on Taveuni, a beautiful young woman, Adi Perena,daughter of a chief.
She was in love and her eyes sparkled and her face glowed with happiness as she went about her life in the village.
Her friends soon noticed the glances she gave to the handsome young man of her choice.
If he was sitting near the kava bowl she would go out of her way to walk close to him, leaning close to touch the bowl. As a mark of respect for old customs, villagers would touch the kava bowl as they passed.
The young man, Taitusi, was poor - not a suitable match for the daughter of a chief - but they could not deny the attraction they felt for each other.
There was a traditional game of flirtation played in the village and enjoyed by young people. On sunlit afternoons they would play, rolling fruit along the ground towards each other. It was recognized as a public declaration of affection if a boy bowled a fruit at his sweetheart. It was no secret how Adi Perena and Taitusi felt about each other.
One day, while the young people played this game, Adi Perena's father called her to his hut. Happy in her games of love with Taitusi, Adi Perena did not suspect the pain awaiting her. She looked around the hut and saw an old man sitting across the room in a position of honour. She knelt obediently in front of her father.
"I have good news," her father told her. "I have chosen your husband.: He pointed to the old man. "It is my royal command that you marry Tuki Kuto and strengthen the ties between us!"
In those times it was customary to marry the young daughters of chiefs to powerful older men. With her high rank, Adi Perena could not disobey her father's wishes. But she could not believe this dreadful news. In horror she looked around and saw her mother sitting silently watching. Adi Perena pleaded with her eyes, and her mother saw her misery but was not able to interfere.
In despair, Adi Perena walked down to the beach to sit alone and watch the waves break. She was desperately sad. She realized how deeply she cared for Taitusi.
Watching from the shadows of the trees close to the beach stood the anguished Taitusi.
In those days the people of Taveuni were fierce and strong and lived by tradition. They could not challenge the command of a chief. His rule was absolute. But Adi Perena no longer cared about disobeying her father. She had made a promise of love and nothing would force her to break it. She could not bring herself to marry the old man her father had chosen for her. In torment, she decided to run away.
Very early, before dawn then next morning, Adi Perena set out. Through the forests and parklands, through the slopes and valleys of her abundant homeland she ran. She noticed nothing of the natural gardens of her island. She started climbing and at last she came to a high lake and a waterfall.
Exhausted and desperate, Adi Perena collapsed. She felt her heart was breaking. As she wept, the tears fell on the earth beside her. As they fell, her tears became flowers - the blood flowers of despair, Tagimoucia.
Her father, alarmed by her disappearance, set out with his men to search for her. They searched every part of the island and found her at last by the waterfall.
Adi Perena's father, who loved his daughter, was deeply moved by her suffering. He was a chief, and he knew the truth of things when he saw them. He held up the red flowers she had wept and saw the in the colour and shape of her flowers of tears how dearly she loved Taitusi. It was unusual in those days for a chief to change his decision once it had been made public, but he now resolved that his daughter should marry the man she loved.
The couple were radiant in their traditional wedding costumes. Adi Perena wore the high-ranking sash of brown masi and Taitusi walked proudly beside her. They ceremony was celebrated with full honour. The transformation of Adi Perena's tears to flowers became a story told and retold throughout the ages.
To this day the Tagimoucia is considered the most precious and beautiful of all Fijian wildflowers. It is a symbol of the power of love and the unique human gift of tears. .
The End
I started collecting a few of these stories from different cultures that are all associated with a beautiful blood red flower indigineous to the area - usually the story tells us how the flowers originated, such as this one and The First Waratah, and all involve a beautiful young girl, and often her young lover. Very interesting.
© Lynette
F. Watters 1997-2005
To contact me, my email address is "lunetta777" followed by "@bigpond.com",
less the quotation marks (of course)
