This time of year as the winter winds begin to blow across the frozen steppes of Russia, many families sit a little longer at the dinner table to hear the story about the enchanted porringer bowl. The porringer bowl was nothing more than a shallow dish used for porridge. And as you travel across the great plains of Russia, you will find many porringer bowls, but only one enchanted porringer bowl.
    The story starts with a young boy named Vanya who lived with his grandfather in a little cottage near a stream. They were far from the nearest village and that suited both the boy and his grandfather just fine. Vanya loved to wander the hills and fish in the stream. He was often gone for hours at a time. His grandfather never worried about the boy for Vanya grew up on these open plains and he was very clever when it came to the ways of nature.
    On this day, Vanya set out early as usual. It was a beautiful day for this time of the year with lots of strong, clear sunshine and barely a hint of the winter winds that could blow and blow across the land.
    Through the window of the cottage, Vanya's grandfather watched the boy pick his way across the dry fields. There had been a good harvest and while they were certainly not wealthy, there would be plenty of food for the winter, even when it finally turned harsh. Watching his grandson, the old man thought how lucky they were to have escaped the upheavals that were plaguing other parts of Russia at that time.
    But before he could finish that thought, Grandfather saw a movement in the tall grass beside the river. He watched as a gang of robbers crept up to the cottage to break in.
    Very quietly, Vanya's grandfather slipped out the back door and hid in the fields behind the cottage. Sadly, he could hear the house being ransacked but there was nothing he could do about it. Everyone in the countryside had heard of these robbers and everyone knew exactly how ruthless they were.
    But this story has little to do with the robbers for they came and went quickly, leaving the cottage in shambles. What happened next is the story that many families hear on cold winter nights when the frozen winds begin to blow over the steppes of Russia.
    Vanya returned later in the day and was shocked to find the cottage in ruins. As he burst through the door, he found his grandfather sitting at the broken table with his head in his hands.
    "Grandfather!" Vanya cried, "What has happened?"
    "Robbers," the old man said sadly. "There was nothing I could do."
    "Well, it could have been worse," Vanya said. "They could have stolen all our food."
    His grandfather's face said it all. Slowly Vanya looked around and discovered that all the food, every crumb in the cottage, was gone. And winter was only days away.
    "What shall we do?" Vanya asked.
    His grandfather said nothing. Still holding his head in his hands at the broken table, he merely stared hopelessly into the mess.
    Well, Vanya took it upon himself to start cleaning up. There was little else he could do. Besides, the work gave him a chance to think and thinking was the best thing he could do right at that moment. While he was clearing away the broken chairs and the pieces of dishes, Vanya found one bowl that was not broken. He recognized it immediately. It was his porringer bowl; the bowl his grandfather filled with porridge each morning as Vanya started his day. He lovingly placed the bowl on the window sill and continued his work.
    That evening Vanya and his grandfather had nothing to eat. There was nothing in the house they could eat. So Vanya worked until it was very late and then found his bed. Even his bed had been looted. One edge of it was broken and all but one shabby blanket was stolen. It was a terrible mess but Vanya was so tired he ignored it all and laid down.
    Suddenly he remembered his porringer bowl and, tired as he was, got up to find it. When Vanya got to the window sill, he accidentally bumped the bowl as he reached for it in the darkness and it fell through the broken window. Vanya heard a crash outside and was so discouraged that all he could do was to crawl back to bed.
    That night Vanya had terrible nightmares in the freezing cold cottage. In his dreams, his home was destroyed by wolves and burned by monsters and tossed into the wind by fierce storms. Then suddenly a winter spirit appeared in his dream and held his porringer bowl out towards him.
    "Vanya!" the spirit said with a cold voice. "Vanya! You and your grandfather have suffered a great deal. But you will find your porringer bowl filled with porridge if you merely say the following words—"
    But before the winter spirit could speak, a breeze flapping against the damaged cottage woke up Vanya. He rushed to the window sill and there was a steaming bowl of porridge in his very own porringer bowl.
    Vanya quickly woke up his grandfather and told him about the dream.
    "And then," Vanya said, "I found this!"
    He handed the bowl of hot porridge to his grandfather and they both ate the delicious food.
    In the morning a grim scene greeted Vanya and his grandfather. The cold winds were blowing and snow was beginning to pile up outside their broken cottage. After he bundled his grandfather in the few remaining blankets, the young boy continued his work of repairing the cottage.
    Presently a peddler came along with wares to sell. Vanya looked at the pile of housewares and knew that they desperately needed them.
    "Sir," Vanya said, "as the gang of robbers have just looted out house, we badly need some of your wares. But, kind sir, the robbers have taken all our money, too."
    "I wish I could help you," the peddler said, "but I cannot give away my wares for free. Perhaps you have something to trade? I have not had a hot meal in days. What could you give me to eat?"
    Vanya looked in vain for something to feed the peddler but there was absolutely nothing to eat the entire house. And then he remembered his enchanted porringer bowl.
    "One moment, kind sir," Vanya said, "and I will have a steaming bowl of porridge for you."
    "That is a fair trade," the peddler said. "I will wait."
    Vanya disappeared into a back room and found the bowl. He looked long and hard at the bowl but it did not magically fill with porridge. He tried placing it over his head to see if that would work. The beautiful bowl was still empty. He tried turning away to see if the magic would happen. It did not.
    "Winter spirit!" Vanya finally pleaded as the peddler grew impatient. "How can I fill my bowl?"
    Suddenly the wind picked up again and a cold, icy voice filled Vanya's head.
    "Listen carefully. Three magical words are all you need to know: fill, bowl, fill!"
    And no sooner had those words been spoken than the bowl was filled to over flowing with hot, steaming porridge.
    "Kind sir," Vanya said, "here is your meal, hot and delicious. While you eat, I will check on my grandfather for this has been a very difficult time for him. Please, kind sir, after you finish your meal leave the bowl here and I will discuss with you which of your wares you should like to trade."
    As Vanya left the room, the peddler quickly ate the bowl of porridge. It was a wonderful meal and the food tasted marvelous. Unknown to Vanya, the peddler had been watching while the young boy talked to the Winter Spirit. He knew the value of a enchanted porringer bowl and now tried to fill it himself.
    "Fill, bowl, fill!" he cried and before his eyes, the bowl magically filled with porridge again. He gulped down the food and quietly slid the bowl into his pack and disappeared across the vast plains of the Russian steppes.
    When Vanya returned from checking on his grandfather, the peddler, his wares and his precious porringer bowl were all gone.
    "Grandfather!" Vanya cried, "we have been robbed a second time. Our enchanted porringer bowl is gone! Gone! Stolen by a thankless peddling thief."
    Now, I wish I could tell you that this story has a happy ending for happy endings are much more welcome when families linger around the dinner table as the cold winter winds begin to blow. But, no, this story does not end well for Vanya and his grandfather. They had very little to begin with and now they had nothing. Everyone had stolen from them and taken every advantage away from the young boy and his grandfather.
    So there was nothing left to do. They began walking through the early and dark days of winter searching for those who had stolen from them. And as the story goes, they never found the robbers or the peddler who took the enchanted porringer bowl. But families who sit a little longer around the dinner table often hear noises in the wind outside their homes. The wise ones leave a bowl of steaming porridge on an outside window sill or doorstoop for the ghost of Vanya and his grandfather who, it is said, are still searching to this day for the enchanted porringer bowl.