Tell me a story; The Xocoyoles

Again, I would like to share another story with you all!

NOTE: would you also like to see your story get illustrated? please check out my previous blog post here and read the guidelines.

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Story Title: The Xocoyoles
Submitted by: Juan Ruben Juarez Macias
Country:Mexico

Those who lived a long time ago will tell you about a man who did not believe in the word of his ancestors. They told him storms with thunder and lightning were created by young children up in the sky; the so called xocoyoles.

Xocoyoles are the very young children who die at birth or before being baptized. Wings sprout from their shoulders and they are sitting on the hills and the crags. The legend tells that these pequeñitos (the small children) were doing various kinds of work: some poured water from big pitchers so rain might fall upon the lands and make crops grow. Others created hailstones and threw them down from the clouds, and still others created mighty thunderclaps and lightning by slamming their ropes on the clouds.

But one man did not believe the legend. One day, after a great tempest had passed over the countryside, he went to a hill planted with ocotes-trees (Pinus montezumae) to cut firewood. When he arrived there he saw a naked child, its two wings were stuck in the branch of an ocote.

The man was very much surprised, especially when the child said to him: "If you give me my rope that has fallen on the ground, I will cut up this entire tree into firewood, so you can take it."

"Really, will you do that?" the man asked.
"Yes, I will do this for you."

The man soon joined several sticks and branches with which he could reach the top of the tree and thus give the rope to the stuck xocoyol. The child, having his rope again in his hands, told the man he should leave and return the next day to collect the firewood. The man thus went and when he was gone the xocoyol used his regained rope to create thunderclaps and lightning. Because of the force the ocote-tree splintered and broke, a perfect pile of firewood was the result. When the small child finished his work he flew away to his place in the sky and his brother xocoyoles.

The following day the man returned to the hill and found the huge pile of firewood, he looked for the xocoyol but did not see him anywhere.

From this day onwards he believed all the stories his grandparents told him.

PS: Juan Ruben Juarez Macias is also a very talented artist himself. If you like you can take a look at his gallery here: LINK