7 Pygmalion and Galatea

CHAPTER 7 Pygmalion and Galatea There once lived a young sculptor named Pygmalion. He lived on the island of Cyprus. There was no sculptor more talented than he. Pygmalion spent his days hard at work at his art. He had no time for friends or a wife. "I suppose I shall never find anyone to marry," he said, sadly. Then one day, Pygmalion came up with a plan. He would create a wife out of marble. She would be the perfect woman. This way, he could sculpt all day and have a companion.

Pygmalion set to work at once. He searched for the most perfect block of marble. He sharpened his sculpting tools to the finest points. Then he began to sculpt. Pygmalion worked hard. He sculpted with great care. He carved the statue with love. When he was done, it was a fine work of art. Art lovers from all over Cyprus came to view Pygmalion's sculpture. "Magnificent," said one. "Amazing," said another. "Almost life-like," said a third. But this was not enough for Pygmalion. He wanted his statue to be the loveliest creation on Earth. Pygmalion continued to work day and night. The statue grew more and more beautiful. No woman ever born and no statue ever made could even come close to its beauty. When nothing more could be done,

Pygmalion stepped back. He gazed into the statue's eyes. At that moment, a strange thing happened. Pygmalion was struck with a feeling he'd never had before. It was love. He had fallen deeply in love with this thing he had made. Looking at the statue, no one would have thought she was made of stone. Her skin looked warm with life. Her eyes gazed into Pygmalion's soul. Pygmalion was so talented that his own creation looked completely alive, even to him! "I shall call you Galatea," Pygmalion declared. Although Pygmalion should have been proud and joyful, he was unhappy instead. No one ever loved as much as Pygmalion loved his statue. He kissed her, as if that could wake her. But her stone lips could not kiss him back. He stroked her long, flowing

hair. But the hair did not move beneath his fingers. He held her close in his arms, but she was stiff and unmoving. Yet Pygmalion would not be troubled. And he could not be taken away from his love. One day, Pygmalion dressed the statue in rich, expensive clothes. "Tell me, my love. Do you like the red dress or the blue?" he would ask her. But the statue did not answer. So Pygmalion pretended that she had. He brought her special gifts: little birds that sang sweetly, wildflowers with heavenly scents, and sparkling gems in all the colors of the rainbow. Every evening he tucked her into bed, beneath the softest and warmest blankets. "Thank you, my dearest," Pygmalion imagined she whispered to him. Pygmalion did this day after day, and night

after night. Until, at last, he could pretend no more. He had to admit that he loved a lifeless thing. Pygmalion was miserable. That night, Pygmalion found himself in the deepest despair. He cried out to Aphrodite, the goddess of love, to help him. "Please help me find a woman as lovely as my sculpture," he asked. Aphrodite heard Pygmalion's plea. She felt bad for the sad artist who loved his statue. Pygmalion awoke the next morning. He went to look at his statue on her pedestal. Only this morning, the statue's eyes seemed to follow him wherever he moved. Pygmalion went closer. He reached out to take her beautiful hand. It was warm! Pygmalion stepped back in surprise. He put his hands upon her shoulders. They became soft under his fingertips. He leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips.

She kissed him back. The statue's entire form softened like wax in the sun. Pygmalion clasped her wrist and felt a pulse. He took the statue in his arms. Miraculously, she hugged him back! "Are you real?" Pygmalion asked. "Or am I dreaming?" "I'm as real as you, my love," the beautiful woman in his arms answered. "Will you marry me, Galatea?" Pygmalion asked as he took her hand. "Yes," she answered simply. From that day forward, Pygmalion was the happiest man on Earth. He thanked Aphrodite every single day. Aphrodite smiled down on them from Mount Olympus. Another happy ending, thanks to the goddess of love.