Folklore for Kids: Lau Kawar: The Heartbreaking Indonesian Legend of a Village Turned to Lake

Chapter 1: The Village of Plenty

Long, long ago, nestled between green hills, there stood a peaceful village called Kawar. The soil there was rich and dark, blessed by the gods of the earth, and nearly everyone in the village earned their living by farming. Rice fields stretched out like golden carpets, rippling gently whenever the wind passed through.

One year, something wonderful happened. The harvest was more bountiful than anyone could remember. Sack after sack of golden rice was carried home, until the village barns could hold no more! The people of Kawar laughed and sang with joy, for such abundance was surely a gift from above.

"We must give thanks!" the village elders declared. "Let us hold a grand feast to celebrate this blessing!"

And so, the whole village began to prepare for a joyous pesta panen — a great harvest festival.

Chapter 2: The Forgotten Grandmother

On the morning of the festival, the village of Kawar buzzed with excitement. Villagers dressed in their finest clothes, bright sashes and woven cloths in every color. Women cooked mountains of food — steaming rice, grilled fish, roasted chicken, and sweet fruits piled high on banana leaves. The deep, joyful beat of the gordang drums echoed through the hills, calling everyone to dance.

But in one small house at the edge of the village, an old grandmother lay quietly on her mat. She had been paralyzed for many years, and her legs could no longer carry her anywhere. From her bed, she could hear the drums, the laughter, and the music drifting in through the window.

Grandmother: "Oh, how I wish I could go too... but my legs no longer obey me. All I can do is lie here and remember."

Her son, her daughter-in-law, and her grandchildren all dressed quickly and hurried off to join the celebration, their hearts full of excitement for the feast. Not one of them stopped to ask the old woman how she felt, or whether she wished to come along. Not one of them even paused to say goodbye.

Alone in the quiet house, the grandmother closed her eyes and let the sound of the drums carry her back to her youth — to a time when her own legs were strong, when she too had danced beneath the stars. But memories, however sweet, cannot fill an empty stomach, and they cannot cure a lonely heart.

Chapter 3: A Hunger That Grew

The hours passed. The sun rose high above the festival grounds, where the villagers ate and laughed without a single worry. Plates of chicken, beef, pork, and fish were passed from hand to hand. Jokes were told beneath the shade of banana trees, and the cool breeze carried the sound of happy chatter across the fields.

But back at the little house, the old grandmother's stomach growled painfully. She had eaten nothing since the morning before.

Grandmother: "My son... my daughter-in-law... have you truly forgotten your own mother?"

With great effort, she pushed herself up from her mat. Her arms trembled as she dragged her weak body toward the kitchen, hoping — praying — that some small scrap of food had been left behind for her.

But the kitchen was bare. Not a single grain of rice remained. Her son and daughter-in-law had planned to eat only at the festival, and so they had cooked nothing at home at all.

Grandmother: "They feast on delicious food while their own mother starves at home... how could they forget me so completely?"

Tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks as she crawled slowly back to her bed, her heart heavier than her hungry stomach. She wept — not only from hunger, but from the ache of being forgotten by the very people she had raised with her own hands.

Chapter 4: The Bowl of Leftovers

Back at the festival, the celebration continued late into the afternoon. At last, full and satisfied, the villagers began to rest beneath the trees. It was then that the grandmother's son suddenly remembered — his mother had not eaten a single bite all day.

Son: "Wife! Have you sent any food home to my mother?"

Wife: "Not yet, husband. I forgot in all this excitement."

Son: "Then hurry — wrap some food and send it to her at once! She must be starving by now."

The wife quickly wrapped whatever food remained on the leaves and turned to her own son, the grandmother's young grandson.

Wife: "Take this to your grandmother, quickly now!"

The boy nodded and ran off toward the little house, the wrapped food swinging in his hands. But the walk was long, and the smell of the food made his own stomach rumble. Without much thought — for children rarely understand the weight of such things — he began to nibble at the rice as he walked. By the time he reached his grandmother's door, almost nothing remained but a few bones already stripped of meat and a small mound of half-eaten rice.

He handed the meager package to his grandmother with a cheerful smile, never realizing what he had done.

Chapter 5: The Grandmother's Curse

The old grandmother's heart leapt with hope when she saw the food. At last, she thought, my son has not forgotten me.

But when she unwrapped the banana leaf, her hope crumbled into despair. Inside lay only bare bones and scraps of half-eaten rice — nothing fit even for a hungry dog.

Grandmother: "Is this truly what my own son has sent me? Leftover bones, while he and his family feast on the finest meat and rice? Have I raised a son with no heart at all?"

Her hunger, her loneliness, and her sorrow all rose together like a storm inside her chest. Shaking with grief and anger, she lifted her trembling hands toward the sky and cried out with all the strength left in her frail body.

Grandmother: "Oh, Almighty God — hear the cry of a mother forgotten by her own children! I can no longer bear this suffering. If they have no love left for me, then let the heavens judge them in my place!"

No sooner had her words left her lips than the sky itself seemed to answer.

Chapter 6: The Village That Became a Lake

Dark clouds rushed in from every direction, swallowing the sun whole. The wind rose into a furious howl, bending trees nearly to the ground. Thunder cracked like the anger of the heavens, and the earth beneath the festival grounds began to tremble and groan.

The villagers, still gathered beneath the trees, looked up in terror as the ground split open beneath their feet. Rain poured down in sheets, and screams filled the air where laughter had been only moments before. There was no time to run, no place to hide.

In an instant, the entire village of Kawar sank into the trembling earth, disappearing beneath the soil along with everyone within it. The rain did not stop — it fell and fell, filling the great crater left behind, until at last a wide, still lake stretched out where the joyful village had once stood.

The people named this new lake Lau Kawar — the Lake of Kawar — in memory of the village that vanished in a single, terrible night.

The Moral of the Story

Even today, elders in Karo Regency tell this story to their children and grandchildren: no matter how busy or joyful life becomes, never forget to care for your parents and elders. A single act of forgetfulness born from carelessness — a mother left hungry while her children feast — can carry consequences far heavier than anyone expects.

Hopefully this story is useful, and its lesson can be learned.

🎮 Play the legend! Before you keep reading, try the interactive game "The Legend of Lau Kawar" below. Help retell the story of the forgotten grandmother whose sorrow turned the village of Kawar into a lake — complete with voice narration and an Indonesian/English language toggle. Tap "Start Story" to begin!

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Thursday, 29 April 2021

Lau Kawar: The Heartbreaking Indonesian Legend of a Village Turned to Lake