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In ancient times, when saints still wandered this world, there was, in the place where Lake Boračko lies today, a small town whose name, unfortunately, no one remembers anymore.
The inhabitants of that town were blessed with every earthly good, but they were corrupt of heart and so miserly that they no longer valued hospitality or sincere love. It was these sins that brought about their ruin. By God’s wise decision, a saint once came to that town and asked for a place to spend the night.
The wealthy mocked him and turned him away, and no one would grant his request. After knocking on every door, he finally reached, at the edge of town, the hut of a poor woman.
She was a destitute widow who had nothing but her little home, a small garden, a cow, and a horse — and an only son, a young man in the finest years of his life. Mother and son were devoted to God, devout and merciful of heart.
They welcomed the poor traveler with hospitality, shared their meager meal with him, and gave him a place to sleep. The next morning, as the saint was preparing to leave, he said to the mother and son — With God’s help, I shall punish this town for the sins of its people. Gather what you have and leave this place, for it is cursed to perish. Head to the northwest, and when you reach a river, follow it upstream.
Wherever your horse strikes the ground three times with its front right hoof, settle there; God will bless you in that place.
The mother and son did as they were told. In no time they were far from the town, while the traveler remained by their hut. When they turned to look back at their home one last time, they were struck with terror. Amid the cries and wailing of the townspeople, the town sank into the earth before their very eyes, and from countless springs a lake surged forth and filled the newly formed valley.
At that same moment, the saint vanished from their sight. And so Lake Boračko came to be. The mother and son continued on, following the Neretva River as the saint had instructed. After a few hours, their horse suddenly stopped. The widow urged it on, saying — Come on, come on, my dear horse! — but the horse would not move from the spot.
Then suddenly it struck the ground three times with its front right hoof. The mother and son now knew they had arrived at the place the saint had shown them. There they built a hut, and not long after, the mother saw her son wed.
Day by day they prospered, for God’s blessing followed the family. The bride’s relatives soon joined them, and before long a lovely settlement came to be.
