Many deep sorrows had
fallen on her young heart, but she was still a child in mind and years,
yearning for companionship and love.
Many Brahman servants were drawing water near her, and looked bright and
happy in their gay-colored cotton _saris_. A woman so poor that she must
draw her own drinking-water, but still a Brahman, came near, and to her
Sita appealed for help.
"Will you not draw a little water for me? I am ill and tired, and the well
is very deep."
The woman turned angrily, and uttered, in a scathing tone, the one word,
"Widow!" then she burst out: "Curse you! How dare you come between me and
the glorious sun! Your shadow has fallen upon me, and I'll have to take the
bath of purification before I can eat food! Curse you! Stand aside!"
Poor Sita stood bewildered. She made no answer, but the tears coursed down
her cheeks. Something akin to pity made the woman pause. Halting at a safe
distance from the shadow of the child, she talked to her in a milder tone.
She was thinking, perhaps, of her two soft-eyed daughters, very dear to her
proud heart, though she mourned bitterly when they were born, because the
gods had denied her sons.
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