One day, a rich man left his home and his wife looking for a way to soothe his despair for having no children.
"I am to die childless, with no memory and no future," he said to himself.
As he mulled over his bitter thoughts, he came into a wood where he ended up near a brook. There he saw a hut and a bearded man wearing sackcloth and living as a hermit.
The hermit invited him to rest a little and offered him hand-picked berries.
As they sat near the brook, the rich man loosened up and revealed his afflictions to the hermit.
After listening for a while, the hermit said: "I can give you a remedy. Here is the water of the spring of miracles. Take this bottle, drink half of its contents, and give the other half to your wife: make sure she drinks of the blessed water too."
The man thanked the hermit several times and held the little bottle tight.
As he crossed the wood on his way back, he took a sip of the blessed water.
Soon the day grew hot, and the man took another sip.
This he did from time to time, until he was in a spacious glade, and realised he had drunk all the blessed water. He had no time to think and regret because soon enough he heard a shrill cry.
He turned around. There was nobody there. Yet, he heard another cry. And another.
He looked around, scanning every blade of grass.
His eyes fell on a little wild rose bush. The cry came from there.
He strode towards the bush. The wild roses were pink, swaying in the early Autumn breeze. And when he looked behind the bush, he saw a tiny baby.
He took it in his arms. It clung to his chest and seemed to like the man, so much so that it stopped crying. It was a girl.
The man hastened home where he called out his wife, and told her what had happened. Their days of woe were over, he said. They finally had a child that would make their old age cheerful. He handed over the baby girl to his wife without noticing that the woman was unmoved. She could not love the child, but did her best.
Life resumed as usual, until one day the little girl, whom the man had named Rose because of the place where he had found her, went missing.
The man was distraught and determined to find her no matter what. His wife was sorry too, because she felt guilty.
So it happened that the man and his wife set out on a journey to the four corners of the known world, to no avail. Almost a year went by.
They were on the point of giving up, when the man remembered the hermit, and decided to go visiting him into the wood.
When they met, the hermit didn't seem surprised.
"Alas," he said, "you did not heed my advice. Did you drink all of the blessed water yourself?"
The man nodded and hung his head.
"Tell me what I have to do. My wife and I will go any lengths to find our girl."
The hermit hesitated. At last, he said: "You must go to the top of the Holy Mountain and ask the Eagle to give your child back to you." He pointed towards a mountain peak at the horizon. "However, it won't be easy," he said.
The man rejoiced, but his wife was worried and tired.
The leaves on the trees were turning red and orange.
They walked for three days and slept along the path, until they came to the mountain top. There, a huge eagle sat in a large nest. To their astonishment, they saw she was guarding the little girl, who slept unaware.
Now, the woman realised how difficult it would be. She fell on her knees and cried: "Let's go home."
She begged her husband. He realised she didn't love the child, and despaired. His heart burst inside him, and he died on the spot.
The woman was so scared that she hastened down the side of the mountain, and went back to the village.
Where the man had collapsed, in time grew a thick wild rose bush. Rose lived on, fed and guarded by the great Eagle, whose language she learned.
Rose was attracted to the place where the wild rose bush grew, and would play and take a nap there.
One day, when she had grown into a young woman, the great Eagle spoke and told her the whole story.
Rose listened with attention, and then asked: "And why did you carry me away and take care of me?"
The great Eagle said: "I promised my friend the Wild Rose Spirit that I would take care of you: beauty needs a high vantage point to grow free and flourish."