Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Individuality, Self-Confidence, Friendship

1. Poochi likes things that other creatures don’t like (like mud and smelly things). He also looks different to the other creatures he meets. Do you think this means that Poochi should not be friends with creatures who are different to him? Why or why not?

2. Some of the creatures Poochi tries to be friends with are not very nice to Poochi. Do you think you would have been Poochi’s friend if he said hello to you? Why or why not?

3. Poochi finally finds a group of friends and is happy. Why do you think friendship can make us feel less lonely?

Bedtime Story written by Meera Ganapathi

Bedtime Story illustrated by Rohit Kelkar

Music Video by Improbable Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Comic Hero” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Jackhammer” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Golly Gee” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Sock Hop” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “The Small” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Last Kiss Goodnight” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ and by www.zapsplat.com

OTHER CREDITS:

A Friend for Poochi (English), written by Meera Ganapathi, illustrated by Rohit Kelkar, published by Pratham Books (© Pratham Books, 2021) under a CC BY 4.0 license, first released on StoryWeaver. Read, create and translate stories for free on www.storyweaver.org.in

* THE STORY ‘A FRIEND FOR POOCHI’ WAS CREATED BY PRATHAM BOOKS AND IS LICENSED UNDER A CREATIVE COMMONS -BY-4.0 LICENSE. FORMATTING CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE TO THE ORIGINAL WORK FOR EASE OF READING ON OUR WEBSITE.

The post A Friend for Poochi first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

I own a field of grass. What a beauty it is! There is lots of black soil to settle hands in. When I water my field of grass, it grows. I love laying on it. I share in the sunlight.

I glow.

My field of grass makes me feel free. I am a friend to my field of grass, until I forget its beauty.

I look around at the other fields. Their grass goes straight up. My field’s grass moves with the wind. It collects lots of dirt.

(The dirt helps it grow.)

I change the texture of my field. I want it to look like all the rest.

I take a tractor to try to train my field of grass. It changes for a little, then it goes back to its original form.

I try trimming my field of grass. It only brings out the texture of it even more.

What am I to do? My field of grass is not working with me!

The battle between me and my field of grass goes on for years. Finally, one day, I give up. I no longer try to change my field of grass. I look after it instead.

I put water on my field of grass. I trim it. I clean it. I love it.

You have a field of grass that is one of a kind, too. I am talking about the field of grass in your head.

Dear child, the field in your head is a crown shining bright. Do not believe what you are told. Be bold. Believe in yourself. My field of grass makes waves. What does your field of grass do? Whatever it is, own every part of it.

Shine on with the heart you possess. Your field of grass is what makes you special.

Smile and do your best. Never settle for anything less.

© Traci Neal 2021

Poem for Kids written by Traci Neal

In-text illustrations by Rawpixel, with thanks.

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE POEM ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Individuality

1. In this poem, why do you think the field of grass grew better when the author stopped trying to change it, and decided to love it and care for it instead?

2. What do you think this might say about our own uniqueness?

The post Field of Grass first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

Being part of a family implies respect and tolerance of each other’s positions, and also a sense of solidarity. As individual beings, each person has their own thoughts and ideas that have been shaped by their social experiences and education. Of course there are times within families when ideological points and actions coincide, but there will also be differences.

Aspirations for living

Imagine the possibility of conveying these messages to your child:
“You and I live a relationship that I value and want to take care of. However, each of us is a different person, with their own unique needs and the right to satisfy them.”

“When you have trouble meeting your needs, I will try to listen to you with genuine acceptance, to make it easier for you to find your own solutions instead of depending on mine. In the same way, I will try to respect your right to choose your own beliefs and to develop your own values, even if they are different from mine.”

Celebrating our unique characteristics

Each person has a unique and peculiar universe, with their own needs and potential. In other words, we are all different, with unique characteristics and idiosyncrasies which make us special. Therefore, it is essential that, from a very young age, we promote the development of individuality in our children, making them see that there is no other like them, and it is this quality that makes them incredible.

Respecting kids enhances their self esteem

Recognizing and respecting the individuality of our children is one of our main tasks in their upbringing, since this implies giving value to their tastes and preferences, believing in their potential and talents, and trusting in their ability to develop as a person. If we insist that our child does something they do not want to do, the message they receive may be that we do not care about them, which can affect their self-esteem and self-image.

Common errors we make

Despite good intentions, instead of helping with and directing this process, we can end up doing the opposite, creating difficulties for the child and future adult. Parents often make mistakes such as:
Solving kids tasks for them.
Demanding that a child keeps up with someone else in the family.
Giving insufficient praise and too much criticism.
Wanting to solve everything for them to avoid anyone suffering.

How do I help my child to explore their individuality in a confident way?

Storyberries provides free online children’s books, and parenting tips, offering lots of ways to value and celebrate individuality.

Offering choices where possible

Let them choose, be it the clothes they want to wear, the decoration of their personal belongings, the order of their room or the activities they want to do (as long as they are supervised appropriately and it is not dangerous for them).

Increase opportunities for creativity and ingenuity, allowing them to experience different, personal, and unique ways of doing things so they can develop their interests.

It’s okay to make mistakes

If things don’t go well, help children to analyse what might have gone wrong, to evaluate their options for improvement and to make the most appropriate decisions moving forward.

Reward effort and enjoy the process

Reward kids for their effort, so they develop the motivation to achieve their own goals. You know your child better than anyone. There is no magic recipe for them to learn to be individuals, so take pleasure in supporting them to best learn how to be themselves

Happy alone time

Let them spend time alone, either for fun or to carry out their chores; This way they will learn to enjoy their time alone, which is important because being alone is a very good way of getting to know ourselves.

Encourage autonomy

Promote their autonomy, letting them satisfy their own needs, as this helps them to feel safe and to trust their abilities. There is also a further Storyberries parenting article devoted to the topic of autonomy.

 

Some Free Books About Individuality At Storyberries

My Special Hair

In this wonderfully illustrated and poetic story, a young girl celebrates the uniqueness of her beautiful hair.

Field of Grass

A wonderfully inspiring poem that encourages us to care for our beautiful minds and enjoy being ourselves.

Finnbar and the Fireflies

Finnbar is a friendly border collie who discovers some fireflies whilst playing in the woods. Finnbar finds out that dogs and fireflies, although very different, can also be very good friends.

Article by Luzmery M. Romero Gamboa and Fleur Rodgers

Luzmery works in the area of clinical psychology as a psychotherapist for children, adolescents and families. Since 2016, she has run a Psychological Center in Venezuela called Psicoluz. She offers workshop facilitations to parents, is involved in recreational activities for children, and has been working as a freelancer since 2017 performing online psychotherapy. 

Fleur is a meditation teacher in France and uses a compassion and loving-kindness based approach to meditation and slow-minded living. Fleur posts regularly to Instagram @rodgers.fleur . She has two children, is a qualified teacher in adult education and is the founder of Timeouttobreathe.com 

The post Helping kids celebrate their individuality first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

(Translated from Spanish) 

© Macarena Smerdou 2020

Poem for Kids written and illustrated by Macarena Smerdou

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Individuality, Self-Confidence

1. The children in this story are all different, but they are all sweet! What are some other ways in which you think children might be the same all over the world?

Conversation

1. Has your grandmother or grandfather ever said a funny phrase that you didn’t understand? What was it? How did you find out what it meant?

About the Author Illustrator:

Translated from Spanish:

I really like to draw, especially children’s illustrations. When I found I was not getting enough story commissions, I decided to write my own stories. The first two “Carlota Doesn’t Like Yellow “and” Carlota’s Move” were published in 2005 by the Editorial Biblioteca Nueva. From there I have collaborated as an illustrator with several publishers, authors and magazines, but I have also continued to invent stories.

In 2009 I published, together with the author-illustrator Elena Dams “The Collection of Children’s Rights”, ten stories to explain to little ones their rights and those of other children. In 2014 I started my website www.macasmerdou.es dedicated to the design and illustration of personalized products. In 2016 I collaborated as an illustrator in the collection of short stories, “Los Secrets and Adventures of Posi,” by Cristina Ozores, edited by the Vellmarí association, with the collaboration of the Environment and Culture of the Consell Insular de Formentera, an educational project for the dissemination among the youngest of the importance of grasslands of oceanic posidonia in the marine ecosystem of the Mediterranean Sea.

Story therapy is my latest project. It consists of the creation of stories on request, for children who may have a problem, who may need assistance overcoming the circumstances of their life, or who simply want to be protagonists of their own story. I have recently launched my blog where you can see all the stories that I am doing for very special boys and girls. You can follow me here: www.cuentoterapia-macasmerdou.blogspot.es

Music Video: “Simple Music to Frighten Small Children By” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Scheming Weasel (faster version)” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Sing Along with Jim” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Vivacity” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/  and additional music from: zapsplat.com

The post Adriana Chocolate Princess first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

Grandma’s reaction is sharply focussed and etched permanently in my memory. Only a beat after he had scampered past, she swivelled round, her whiskered face contorted as if she had taken the deepest suck on the tartest of lemons, and with the venom of a thousand vipers squeaked two words. “He’s unlucky”.

All I understood was that there must have been something deeply wrong with that mouse to provoke such a reaction from someone I loved so dearly. I hadn’t given much thought to ghost mice since then. I don’t know how, but it just became something I – and all the other mice I knew – accepted; you were not to associate with them if you could help it. If you did, you deserved what was coming to you.

On my first day of training, my older sister, Miranda, was coerced into accompanying me. We left our home in the ceiling cavity, squeezing through the gap in the plaster. Miranda paused to sniff for danger, then took off along the rafter. I followed as closely as possible. Down below, a streak of white caught my eye. Running along where the wall met the shop floor was the second ghost mouse I ever saw. It was dark, but his white fur stood out, regardless.

“What are you doing?” Miranda called.

I snapped back to the present and ran to catch up.

“You’re so weird!” she admonished.

She looked down, and when she saw the ghost mouse, made a hissing sound through her teeth.

“Why are they unlucky?” I asked her.

“Dunno,” she grunted, as if it was the stupidest question ever. “It’s always been like that. Everyone knows, you get near a ghost mouse and you get what’s coming to you. Come on, we’ll be late.”

By night, the marketplace belonged to mice, but it was still a perilous place. Danger is ever-present in our world. During day, humans set up giant piles of delectable produce. You’d think they’d share a morsel; they certainly have enough left over. But they pack it all up, then hose the whole place down. On a mouse’s 21^st day, we join the night squad to train for ration raids. We learn to scour the market for treasure troves of food while avoiding getting into a pickle.

Training was held within the drain by the market’s entrance. The ghost mouse was there when we arrived. As soon as we dropped through the grate my eyes zeroed in on him. He was hard to miss. A ring of space separated him from the rest of the group like a moat around a castle. Miranda nudged me away from him as we moved past.

Major Max called the squad to attention. Pride and apprehension tumbled around inside of me as he welcomed us. He lectured us in an authoritative drone, and I scanned the other newbies for their reactions. Pairs of eager black eyes were trained upon him, along with one red pair.

“For the well-trained nose,” the Major intoned, “the marketplace is a bounty of tasty tidbits. But… danger lurks in some places more so than others. Tonight, you will explore the safer, Green Zones. When you’ve proven yourself up-to-snuff with Green, you’ll move on to Orange. And finally – only once there’s no doubt of your capability in situations of high pressure and risk – Red.”

We were split into groups of three and assigned an older guide, then sent off to commence Green Zone exploration.

“These drains are the perfect place to start,” Molly, our guide explained. “They score highly for both safety and abundance. Most scraps are washed down here and not much else can enter besides us. You just need to be wary of flash flooding when it rains. Over this way…”

Molly led on, continuing her spiel as we walked.

Mia, whose family’s nest was close by ours, rolled her eyes at me.

“Won’t find me down here,” she whispered.

“Why not?” I replied. “Mama collects most of our food here.”

“Soggy filth,” she returned, screwing her nose up in disgust.

The ghost mouse, the third in our group, spoke up. “It’s fine. We eat from here too.”

Mia’s face oozed disdain. “I’d expect that,” she scoffed.

Mia’s cynical commentary continued throughout the training. At any opportunity, Molly’s instruction was unsubtly punctuated with sniggers, sighs and head shakes. All this was pitched in my direction as if I was a co-conspirator. It took all the energy I could muster to clamp my mouth shut.

By break time, we were back above ground in the loading bay. I moved away from the others to get some much-needed alone time.

“You OK?”

It was the ghost mouse.

“Fine,” I answered curtly, turning away.

He persisted.

“She’s pretty intense. You must be exhausted.”

I didn’t reply. He took a step closer. Instinctively, I stepped away.

“Want some?” he offered.

I glanced at his outstretched paw. A chunk of cauliflower. I wanted to take it but was prevented by an image of Grandma’s face in my mind.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “about luck. You don’t believe it, do you?”

“Of course not,” I huffed, and took the morsel from him.

We sat quietly for a bit, nibbling.

“I’m Myles,” he said.

“Marco,” I replied, tucking my unswallowed mouthful in my cheek. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing?!” It was Mia. “You’re not sharing food with him, are you?” she said accusingly.

Myles looked at me, waiting for my reaction, but I remained silent.

She spat on the ground and dragged a paw across it, marking a curse barrier between herself and us.

I opened my mouth in defence but movement at the head of the loading bay stopped me short. It was a dog, silhouetted by the streetlight, its shadow stretched across the ground. It padded our way, snout down.

Grandma’s face reappeared in my mind. Sensing the heat of her burning gaze, I dropped the cauliflower.

I could see Molly back where we had left her, crouching in the gutter behind a chip packet, frozen, just like us. Her leg muscles twitched, ready to dash. I knew the risk assessment she’d be going through. If she stayed still long enough, the dog could turn and leave. But, if it came close enough, it could pick up her scent. How close could she allow it to get, while still being sure she could outrun it?

The dog stopped in its tracks.

“Go Molly…” Mia whimpered beneath her breath.

The dog snorted. It crouched down stealthily, its entire body focussed. Hunting mode.

“Please go,” Mia pleaded from afar, “please, please…”

It crept, painstakingly slow.

With only a pounce’s length left, Mia could contain herself no longer.

“Goooooooooooo!” she screeched.

Molly ran. As did her hunter. In terror, we watched her zip by us, her foe hot on her heels. She darted behind a pile of boxes. The dog barked and pawed at them, nudged them with its nose.

“Let’s go!” Mia squealed in panic and took off down an adjacent alley.

The dog’s attention shifted. It left the cardboard jumble and, its paws skidding on the cobble stones, took off after us.

My feet barely touched the ground as I hurtled down the alley. I don’t know what was faster, my scurrying feet or my pounding heart.

I heard Myles call from behind. “It’s a dead end!”

He was right. The back doors of the meat hall were ahead, but firmly closed.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Mia panted, pulling up to a halt, her eyes wide as she watched the dog bearing down on us.

By the doors was a gigantic metal dumpster. Myles scurried into the gap underneath. I followed shortly behind. Mia was left no choice but to do so, too.

From our fortress, we watched the dog’s paws traipse back and forth round the perimeter of the bin. Its muzzle appeared and it barked its frustration. I could see saliva oozing between its fangs. Trying another tack, it stuck its paw into the gap. We pressed ourselves against the wall to avoid its swiping claws.

“What now?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.

“There,” Myles said, pointing.

Above us, in the corner of the dumpster’s rust-corroded underbelly, was a hole.

“We’re not going in there,” stated Mia, shaking her head adamantly, “that’s Red Zone. We go in there, there’s only two ways out. Back out the same hole and be swallowed by the dog or wait till morning and be swallowed by the garbage monster.”

“What do we do then?” I asked.

“We’ve gotta run for it.”

I peered beyond the barking dog’s jaws along the long stretch of alleyway, then at Myles. I closed my eyes. Those two words of Grandma’s echoed through my brain. I shook my head and reopened my eyes.

Myles’ red eyes glowed. “Trust me,” he said.

I nodded.

He made a run for it and leapt into the hole. I didn’t wait for Mia’s permission, I followed immediately after. The dog barked and swatted with its paw, but I was clear. We peered down at Mia and tried shouting over the dog’s din for her to join us. She kept glancing between us and the alley, but finally went for it. The dog swiped. Its claw clipped her hindlegs, sending her tumbling. She righted herself, scuttled desperately, then leapt. We grabbed her by the fur and pulled her into the dumpster.

Mia wailed at me as soon as she was on her feet. “This is it. Never trust a ghost mouse. There’s no way out of here. We’re done for!”

“Quit it Mia,” I ordered. “Give him a chance.”

Myles took no notice. His nose twitched, taking in our surroundings. I took a sniff, too. One smell dominated all others. Food! We were at the bottom of a massive mountain of refuse; the biggest cache of grub I had ever come in contact with. But we had no time to stop and wonder. We made our way upwards through the maze of rotting food scraps and packaging; squelching, sliding, clambering and squeezing. It became lighter as we climbed, and the air, fresher. At the summit it became apparent why. The dumpster was overfilled; its lid was not completely closed.

We perched on the rim and peered down at the dog far below. It was still on its belly, barking madly at the hole where we’d disappeared. Across from us was a drainpipe. The void between was vast, but there was no other escape option. Banishing all thoughts of becoming a dog’s dinner, I launched myself through the air in a wide arc and grabbed onto the pipe’s bracket at the end of my flight.

I looked back. Myles was trying to persuade Mia to follow, but she was adamantly refusing. Her arms were crossed tightly, a stubborn frown fixed to her face. I wanted to scream, ‘leave her!’ but dared not. So far, we had gone unnoticed. How long would that last?

I saw Myles speak in Mia’s ear. Her consternation amplified as she listened. She puffed up, then deflated again with a disgruntled sigh. She turned huffily away from him, teetered on the edge, then leapt. She caught hold of the bracket with her front paws and kicked at the drainpipe, scrabbling to get a foothold. I reached down and she snatched my paw. She clambered over the top of me; kneed me in the guts, stamped on my head. Without a squeak or a backward glance, she scrambled up the drainpipe and disappeared over the edge of the gutter.

Myles bounded across and soon we were also up the pipe and safe upon the roof.

Mia was nowhere to be seen. Probably trying to put as much distance in between her and the ‘ghost mouse’ as she could. And no doubt she’d be keen to get back and tell her version of what happened.

We sat in between two tiles, taking a moment to calm ourselves and allow the adrenalin to subside. We were wedged closely together, and I could feel Miles’ white fur brushing up against my own with every intake of air. This time, I didn’t move away.

“Myles,” I whispered, head down, “I’m sorry if I… You know… Being unfriendly before…”

“Let’s leave it,” he said. “You figured it out. That’s the main thing.”

We sat for a bit, long enough for me to feel I needed to say something before it became awkward.

“What did you say to Mia?” I asked. “To make her jump?”

Myles grinned. “I told her that she could stay. I told her she could even climb back down and chance it along the alley if she wanted. But if she did, I would stick right by her, like glue.”

I giggled.

Down below in the laneway, the dog’s barking quietened and finally ceased.

“And the dumpster lid?” I asked. “How did you know it would be open?”

He shrugged and winked one of his shiny red eyes.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

© Michael Morell 2020

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE STORY ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Independent Thinking

1. Marco is not very friendly at first to the ‘ghost mouse’ Myles, because he is told bad things about him. Do you think we ought to listen to what people say about others we don’t know? What might be a better way for learning about a new person?

Individuality, Self-Confidence

1. Myles is kind to Marco even though Marco is not very friendly to him at first. What do you think this might say about Myles?

2. Do you think people who are happy in themselves usually criticise others? Why or why not?

Short Story for Kids written by Michael Morell

The post Ghost Mouse first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

This is a vintage fairy tale, and may contain violence. We would encourage parents to read beforehand  if your child is sensitive to such themes.

At the time when the Tang dynasty reigned over the Middle Kingdom, there were master swordsmen of various kinds. Those who came first were the saints of the sword. They were able to take different shapes at will, and their swords were like strokes of lightning. Yet these master swordsmen were men of lofty mind, and did not lightly mingle in the quarrels of the world. The second kind of master swordsmen were the sword heroes. It was their custom to slay the unjust, and to come to the aid of the oppressed. They wore a hidden dagger at their side and carried a leather bag at their belt. By magic means they were able to turn human heads into flowing water. They could fly over roofs and walk up and down walls, and they came and went and left no trace. The swordsmen of the lowest sort were the mere bought slayers. They hired themselves out to those who wished to do away with their enemies. And death was an everyday matter to them.

Old Dragonbeard must have been a master swordsman standing midway between those of the first and of the second order. Molo, however, of whom this story tells, was a sword hero.

At that time there lived a young man named Tsui, whose father was a high official and the friend of the prince. And the father once sent his son to visit his princely friend, who was ill. The son was young, handsome and gifted. He went to carry out his father’s instructions. When he entered the prince’s palace, there stood three beautiful girls, who piled rosy peaches into a golden bowl, poured sugar over them and presented them to him. After he had eaten he took his leave, and his princely host ordered one of the girls, Rose-Red by name, to escort him to the gate. As they went along the young man kept looking back at her. And she smiled at him and made signs with her fingers. First she would stretch out three fingers, then she would turn her hand around three times, and finally she would point to a little mirror which she wore. When they parted she whispered to him: “Do not forget me!”

When the young man reached home his thoughts were all in confusion. And he sat down absent-mindedly like a wooden rooster. Now it happened that he had an old servant named Molo, who was an extraordinary being.

“What is the trouble, master,” said he. “Why are you so sad? Do you not want to tell your old servant about it?”

So the boy told him what had occurred, and also mentioned the signs the girl had made to him in secret.

Said Molo: “When she stretched out three fingers, it meant that she is quartered in the third court of the palace. When she turned round her hand three times, it meant the sum of three times five fingers, which is fifteen. When she pointed at the little mirror, she meant to say that on the fifteenth, when the moon is round as a mirror, at midnight, you are to go for her.”

Then the young man was roused from his confused thoughts, and was so happy he could hardly control himself.

But soon he grew sad again and said: “The prince’s palace is shut off as though by an ocean. How would it be possible to win into it?”

“Nothing easier,” said Molo. “On the fifteenth we will take two pieces of dark silk and wrap ourselves up in them, and thus I will carry you there. Yet there is a wild dog on guard at the girl’s court, who is strong as a tiger and watchful as a god. No one can pass by him, so he must be set free.”

When the appointed day had come, the servant said: “There is no one else in the world who can free this dog but myself!”

Full of joy the youth gave him meat and wine, and the old man took a chain-hammer and disappeared with it.

And after no more time had elapsed than it takes to eat a meal he was back again and said: “The dog is gone, and there is nothing further to hinder us!”

At midnight they wrapped themselves in dark silk, and the old man carried the youth over the tenfold walls which surrounded the palace. They reached the third gateway and the gate stood ajar. Then they saw the glow of a little lamp, and heard Rose-Red sigh deeply. The entire court was silent and deserted. The youth raised the curtain and stepped into the room. Long and searchingly Rose-Red looked at him, then seized his hand.

“I knew that you were intelligent, and would understand my sign language. But what magic power have you at your disposal, that you were able to get here?”

The youth told her in detail how Molo had helped him.

“And where is Molo?” she asked.

“Outside, before the curtain,” was his answer.

Then she called him in and gave him wine to drink from a jade goblet and said: “I am of good family and have come here from far away. Force alone has made me a slave in this palace. I long to leave it. For though I have jasper chop-sticks with which to eat, and drink my wine from golden flagons, though silk and satin rustle around me and jewels of every kind are at my disposal, all these are but so many chains and fetters to hold me here. Dear Molo, you are endowed with magic powers. I beg you to save me in my distress! If you do, I will be glad to serve your master as a servant, and will never forget the favor you do me.”

The youth looked at Molo. Molo was quite willing. First he asked permission to carry away Rose-Red’s gear and jewels in sacks and bags. Three times he went away and returned until he had finished. Then he took his master and Rose-Red upon his back, and flew away with them over the steep walls. None of the watchmen of the prince’s palace noticed anything out of the way. At home the youth hid Rose-Red in a distant room.

When the prince discovered that one of his girls was missing, and that one of his wild dogs had been set free, he said: “That must have been some powerful sword hero!” And he gave strict orders that the matter should not be mentioned, and that investigations should be made in secret.

Two years passed, and the youth no longer thought of any danger. Hence, when the flowers began to bloom in the spring, Rose-Red went driving in a small wagon outside the city, near the river. And there one of the prince’s servants saw her, and informed his master. The latter sent for the youth, who, since he could not conceal the matter, told him the whole story exactly as it had happened.

Said the prince: “The whole blame rests on Rose-Red. I do not reproach you. Yet since she is now your wife I will let the whole matter rest. But Molo will have to suffer for it!”

So he ordered a hundred armored soldiers, with bows and swords, to surround the house of the youth, and under all circumstances to take Molo captive. But Molo drew his dagger and flew up the high wall. Thence he looked about him like a hawk. The arrows flew as thick as rain, but not one hit him. And in a moment he had disappeared, no one knew where.

Yet ten years later one of his former master’s servants ran across him in the South, where he was selling medicine. And he looked exactly as he had looked ten years before.

CHINESE FAIRY TALE EDITED BY DR. R. WILHEIM

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Generosity, Individuality

1. Molo was kind and generous when he helped the young man find his love, Rose-Red. What kinds to things do you like to do that are generous or kind?

2. Molo was named a sword hero as he was quick and used his abilities for good. What are some other things you noticed about Molo that made him different to other swordsmen?

The post How Molo Stole the Lovely Rose-Red first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

This is a vintage fairy tale, and may contain violence. We would encourage parents to read beforehand  if your child is sensitive to such themes.

Once upon a time there lived a King and Queen. They had three sons, two of them with their wits about them, but the third a simpleton. Now the King had a deer park in which were quantities of wild animals of different kinds. Into that park there used to come a huge beast—Norka was its name—and do fearful mischief, devouring some of the animals every night. The King did all he could, but he was unable to destroy it. So at last he called his sons together and said, ‘Whoever will destroy the Norka, to him will I give the half of my kingdom.’

Well, the eldest son undertook the task. As soon as it was night, he took his weapons and set out. But before he reached the park, he went into a tavern, and there he spent the whole night in revelry. When he came to his senses it was too late; the day had already dawned. He felt himself disgraced in the eyes of his father, but there was no help for it. The next day the second son went, and did just the same. Their father scolded them both soundly, and there was an end of it.

Well, on the third day the youngest son undertook the task. They all laughed him to scorn, because he was so stupid, feeling sure he wouldn’t do anything. But he took his arms, and went straight into the park, and sat down on the grass in such a position that the moment he went asleep his weapons would prick him, and he would awake.

Presently the midnight hour sounded. The earth began to shake, and the Norka came rushing up, and burst right through the fence into the park, so huge was it. The Prince pulled himself together, leapt to his feet, crossed himself, and went straight at the beast. It fled back, and the Prince ran after it. But he soon saw that he couldn’t catch it on foot, so he hastened to the stable, laid his hands on the best horse there, and set off in pursuit.

Presently he came up with the beast, and they began a fight. They fought and fought; the Prince gave the beast three wounds. At last they were both utterly exhausted, so they lay down to take a short rest.

But the moment the Prince closed his eyes, up jumped the beast and took to flight. The Prince’s horse awoke him; up he jumped in a moment, and set off again in pursuit, caught up the beast, and again began fighting with it. Again the Prince gave the beast three wounds, and then he and the beast lay down again to rest. Thereupon away fled the beast as before. The Prince caught it up, and again gave it three wounds.

But all of a sudden, just as the Prince began chasing it for the fourth time, the beast fled to a great white stone, tilted it up, and escaped into the other world, crying out to the Prince: ‘Then only will you overcome me, when you enter here.’

The Prince went home, told his father all that had happened, and asked him to have a leather rope plaited, long enough to reach to the other world. His father ordered this to be done. When the rope was made, the Prince called for his brothers, and he and they, having taken servants with them, and everything that was needed for a whole year, set out for the place where the beast had disappeared under the stone. When they got there, they built a palace on the spot, and lived in it for some time. But when everything was ready, the youngest brother said to the others: ‘Now, brothers, who is going to lift this stone?’
Neither of them could so much as stir it, but as soon as he touched it, away it flew to a distance, though it was ever so big—big as a hill. And when he had flung the stone aside, he spoke a second time to his brothers, saying:

‘Who is going into the other world, to overcome the Norka?’

Neither of them offered to do so. Then he laughed at them for being such cowards, and said:

‘Well, brothers, farewell! Lower me into the other world, and don’t go away from here, but as soon as the cord is jerked, pull it up.’

His brothers lowered him accordingly, and when he had reached the other world, underneath the earth, he went on his way. He walked and walked. Presently he espied a horse with rich trappings, and it said to him:

‘Hail, Prince Ivan! Long have I awaited thee!’

He mounted the horse and rode on—rode and rode, until he saw standing before him a palace made of copper. He entered the courtyard, tied up his horse, and went indoors. In one of the rooms a dinner was laid out. He sat down and dined, and then went into a bedroom. There he found a bed, on which he lay down to rest. Presently there came in a lady, more beautiful than can be imagined anywhere but in a fairy tale, who said:

‘You who are in my house, name yourself! If you are an old man, you shall be my father; if a middle-aged man, my brother; but if a young man, you shall be my husband dear. And if you are a woman, and an old one, you shall be my grandmother; if middle-aged, my mother; and if a girl, you shall be my own sister.’

Thereupon he came forth. And when she saw him she was delighted with him, and said:

‘Wherefore, O Prince Ivan—my husband dear shall you be!—why have you come here?’

Then he told her all that had happened, and she said:

‘That beast which you wish to overcome is my brother. He is staying just now with my second sister, who lives not far from here in a silver palace. I bound up three of the wounds which you gave him.’

Well, after this they drank, and enjoyed themselves, and held sweet converse together, and then the Prince took leave of her, and went on to the second sister, the one who lived in the silver palace, and with her also he stayed awhile. She told him that her brother Norka was then at her youngest sister’s. So he went on to the youngest sister, who lived in a golden palace. She told him that her brother was at that time asleep on the blue sea, and she gave him a sword of steel and a draught of the Water of Strength, and she told him to cut off her brother’s head at a single stroke. And when he had heard these things, he went his way.

And when the Prince came to the blue sea, he looked—there slept the Norka on a stone in the middle of the sea; and when it snored, the water was agitated for seven miles around. The Prince crossed himself, went up to it, and smote it on the head with his sword. The head jumped off, saying the while, ‘Well, I’m done for now!’ and rolled far away into the sea.

After killing the beast, the Prince went back again, picking up all the three sisters by the way, with the intention of taking them out into the upper world: for they all loved him and would not be separated from him. Each of them turned her palace into an egg—for they were all enchantresses—and they taught him how to turn the eggs into palaces, and back again, and they handed over the eggs to him. And then they all went to the place from which they had to be hoisted into the upper world. And when they came to where the rope was, the Prince took hold of it and made the maidens fast to it. Then he jerked away at the rope and his brothers began to haul it up. And when they had hauled it up, and had set eyes on the wondrous maidens, they went aside and said: ‘Let’s lower the rope, pull our brother part of the way up, and then cut the rope. Perhaps he’ll be killed; but then if he isn’t, he’ll never give us these beauties as wives.’

So when they had agreed on this, they lowered the rope. But their brother was no fool; he guessed what they were at, so he fastened the rope to a stone, and then gave it a pull. His brothers hoisted the stone to a great height, and then cut the rope. Down fell the stone and broke in pieces; the Prince poured forth tears and went away.

Well, he walked and walked. Presently a storm arose; the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, the rain fell in torrents. He went up to a tree in order to take shelter under it, and on that tree he saw some young birds which were being thoroughly drenched. So he took off his coat and covered them over with it, and he himself sat down under the tree. Presently there came flying a bird—such a big one that the light was blotted out by it. It had been dark there before, but now it became darker still. Now this was the mother of those small birds which the Prince had covered up. And when the bird had come flying up, she perceived that her little ones were covered over, and she said, ‘Who has wrapped up my nestlings?’ and presently, seeing the Prince, she added: ‘Did you do that? Thanks! In return, ask of me anything you desire. I will do anything for you.’

‘Then carry me into the other world,’ he replied.

‘Make me a large vessel with a partition in the middle,’ she said; ‘catch all sorts of game, and put them into one half of it, and into the other half pour water; so that there may be meat and drink for me.’

All this the Prince did. Then the bird—having taken the vessel on her back, with the Prince sitting in the middle of it—began to fly. And after flying some distance she brought him to his journey’s end, took leave of him, and flew away back. But he went to the house of a certain tailor, and engaged himself as his servant. So much the worse for wear was he, so thoroughly had he altered in appearance, that nobody would have suspected him of being a Prince.

Having entered into the service of this master, the Prince began to ask what was going on in that country. And his master replied: ‘Our two Princes—for the third one has disappeared—have brought away brides from the other world, and want to marry them, but those brides refuse. For they insist on having all their wedding-clothes made for them first, exactly like those which they used to have in the other world, and that without being measured for them. The King has called all the workmen together, but not one of them will undertake to do it.’

The Prince, having heard all this, said, ‘Go to the King, master, and tell him that you will provide everything that’s in your line.’

‘However can I undertake to make clothes of that sort? I work for quite common folks,’ says his master.

‘Go along, master! I will answer for everything,’ says the Prince.

So the tailor went. The King was delighted that at least one good workman had been found, and gave him as much money as ever he wanted. When his tailor had settled everything, he went home. And the Prince said to him:

‘Now then, pray to God, and lie down to sleep; to-morrow all will be ready.’ And the tailor followed his lad’s advice, and went to bed.

Midnight sounded. The Prince arose, went out of the city into the fields, took out of his pocket the eggs which the maidens had given him, and, as they had taught him, turned them into three palaces. Into each of these he entered, took the maidens’ robes, went out again, turned the palaces back into eggs, and went home. And when he got there he hung up the robes on the wall, and lay down to sleep.

Early in the morning his master awoke, and behold! there hung such robes as he had never seen before, all shining with gold and silver and precious stones. He was delighted, and he seized them and carried them off to the King. When the Princesses saw that the clothes were those which had been theirs in the other world, they guessed that Prince Ivan was in this world, so they exchanged glances with each other, but they held their peace. And the master, having handed over the clothes, went home, but he no longer found his dear journeyman there. For the Prince had gone to a shoemaker’s, and him too he sent to work for the King; and in the same way he went the round of all the artificers, and they all proffered him thanks, inasmuch as through him they were enriched by the King.

By the time the princely workman had gone the round of all the artificers, the Princesses had received what they had asked for; all their clothes were just like what they had been in the other world. Then they wept bitterly because the Prince had not come, and it was impossible for them to hold out any longer; it was necessary that they should be married. But when they were ready for the wedding, the youngest bride said to the King:

‘Allow me, my father, to go and give alms to the beggars.’

He gave her leave, and she went and began bestowing alms upon them, and examining them closely. And when she had come to one of them, and was going to give him some money, she caught sight of the ring which she had given to the Prince in the other world, and her sisters’ rings too—for it really was he. So she seized him by the hand, and brought him into the hall, and said to the King:

‘Here is he who brought us out of the other world. His brothers forbade us to say that he was alive, threatening to slay us if we did.’

Then the King was angry with those sons, and punished them as he thought best. And afterwards three weddings were celebrated.

FRENCH FAIRY TALES EDITED BY ANDREW LANG

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE STORIES ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Independent Thinking, Individuality

1. In the story, the family did not have much faith in the youngest son that he could take on the Norka and other beasts. Do you think it is fair to call someone stupid? Why or why not?

2. The youngest prince was able to defend himself and win against the Norka as well as rescue princesses for himself and his brothers to marry. What qualities do you think he had that made it possible to do this?

The post The Norka first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

This is a vintage fairy tale, and may contain violence. We would encourage parents to read beforehand  if your child is sensitive to such themes.

In the land of Annam there once dwelt a man named Su, who sailed the seas as a merchant. Once his ship was suddenly driven on a distant shore by a great storm. It was a land of hills broken by ravines and green with luxuriant foliage, yet he could see something along the hills which looked like human dwellings. So he took some food with him and went ashore. No sooner had he entered the hills than he could see at either hand the entrances to caves, one close beside the other, like a row of beehives. So he stopped and looked into one of the openings. And in it sat two ogres, with teeth like spears and eyes like fiery lamps. They were just devouring a deer. The merchant was terrified by this sight and turned to flee; but the ogres had already noticed him and they caught him and dragged him into their cave. Then they talked to each other with animal sounds, and were about to tear his clothes from his body and devour him. But the merchant hurriedly took a bag of bread and dried meat out and offered it to them. They divided it, ate it up and it seemed to taste good to them. Then they once more went through the bag; but he gestured with his hand to show them that he had no more.

Then he said: “Let me go! Aboard my ship I have frying-pans and cooking-pots, vinegar and spices. With these I could prepare your food.”

The ogres did not understand what he was saying, however, and were still ferocious. So he tried to make them understand in dumb show, and finally they seemed to get an idea of his meaning. So they went to the ship with him, and he brought his cooking gear to the cave, collected brush-wood, made a fire and cooked the remains of the deer. When it was done to a turn he gave them some of it to eat, and the two creatures devoured it with the greatest satisfaction. Then they left the cave and closed the opening with a great rock. In a short space of time they returned with another deer they had caught. The merchant skinned it, fetched fresh water, washed the meat and cooked several kettles full of it. Suddenly in came a whole herd of ogres, who devoured all he had cooked, and became quite animated over their eating. They all kept pointing to the kettle which seemed too small to them. When three or four days had passed, one of the ogres dragged in an enormous cooking-pot on his back, which was thenceforth used exclusively.

Now the ogres crowded about the merchant, bringing him wolves and deer and antelopes, which he had to cook for them, and when the meat was done they would call him to eat it with them.

Thus a few weeks passed and they gradually came to have such confidence in him that they let him run about freely. And the merchant listened to the sounds which they uttered, and learned to understand them. In fact, before very long he was able to speak the language of the ogres himself. This pleased the latter greatly, and they introduced him to a young ogre girl and made her his wife. She gave him valuables and fruit to win his confidence, and in course of time they grew much attached to each other.

One day the ogres all rose very early, and each one of them hung a string of radiant pearls about his neck. They ordered the merchant to be sure and cook a great quantity of meat. The merchant asked his wife what it all meant.

“This will be a day of high festival,” answered she, “we have invited the great king to a banquet.”

But to the other ogres she said: “The merchant has no string of pearls!”

Then each of the ogres gave him five pearls and his wife added ten, so that he had fifty pearls in all. These his wife threaded and hung the pearl necklace about his neck, and there was not one of the pearls which was not worth at least several hundred ounces of silver.

Then the merchant cooked the meat, and having done so left the cave with the whole herd in order to receive the great king. They came to a broad cave, in the middle of which stood a huge block of stone, as smooth and even as a table. Round it were stone seats. The place of honor was covered with a leopard-skin, and the rest of the seats with deerskins. Several dozen ogres were sitting around the cave in rank and file.

Suddenly a tremendous storm blew up, whirling around the dust in columns, and a monster appeared who had the figure of an ogre. The ogres all crowded out of the cave in a high state of excitement to receive him. The great king ran into the cave, sat down with his legs outstretched, and glanced about him with eyes as round as an eagle’s. The whole herd followed him into the cave, and stood at either hand of him, looking up to him and folding their arms across their breasts in the form of a cross in order to do him honor.

The great king nodded, looked around and asked: “Are all the folk of the Wo-Me hills present?”

The entire herd declared that they were.

Then he saw the merchant and asked: “From whence does he hail?”

His wife answered for him, and all spoke with praise of his art as a cook. A couple of ogres brought in the cooked meat and spread it out on the table. Then the great king ate of it till he could eat no more, praised it with his mouth full, and said that in the future they were always to furnish him with food of this kind.

Then he looked at the merchant and asked: “Why is your necklace so short?”

With these words he took ten pearls from his own necklace, pearls as large and round as bullets of a blunderbuss. The merchant’s wife quickly took them on his behalf and hung them around his neck; and the merchant crossed his arms like the ogres and spoke his thanks. Then the great king went off again, flying away like lightning on the storm.

In the course of time heaven sent the merchant children, two boys and a girl. They all had a human form and did not resemble their mother. Gradually the children learned to speak and their father taught them the language of men. They grew up, and were soon so strong that they could run across the hills as though on level ground.

One day the merchant’s wife had gone out with one of the boys and the girl and had been absent for half-a-day. The north wind was blowing briskly, and in the merchant’s heart there awoke a longing for his old home. He took his son by the hand and went down to the sea-shore. There his old ship was still lying, so he climbed into it with his boy, and in a day and a night was back in Annam again.

When he reached home he loosened two of his pearls from his chain, and sold them for a great quantity of gold, so that he could keep house in handsome style. He gave his son the name of Panther, and when the boy was fourteen years of age he could lift thirty hundred weight with ease. Yet he was rough by nature and fond of fighting. The general of Annam, astonished at his bravery, appointed him a colonel, and in putting down a revolt his services were so meritorious that he was already a general of the second rank when but eighteen.

At about this time another merchant was also driven ashore by a storm on the island of Wo-Me. When he reached land he saw a youth who asked him with astonishment: “Are you not from the Middle Kingdom?”

The merchant told him how he had come to be driven ashore on the island, and the youth led him to a little cave in a secret valley. Then he brought deer-flesh for him to eat, and talked with him. He told him that his father had also come from Annam, and it turned out that his father was an old acquaintance of the man to whom he was talking.

“We will have to wait until the wind blows from the North,” said the youth, “then I will come and escort you. And I will give you a message of greeting to take to my father and brother.”

“Why do you not go along yourself and hunt up your father?” asked the merchant.

“My mother does not come from the Middle Kingdom,” replied the youth. “She is different in speech and appearance, so it cannot well be.”

One day the wind blew strongly from the North, and the youth came and escorted the merchant to his ship, and ordered him, at parting, not to forget a single one of his words.

When the merchant returned to Annam, he went to the palace of Panther, the general, and told him all that had happened. When Panther listened to him telling about his brother, he sobbed with bitter grief. Then he secured leave of absence and sailed out to sea with two soldiers. Suddenly a typhoon arose, which lashed the waves until they spurted sky-high. The ship turned turtle, and Panther fell into the sea. He was seized by a creature and flung up on a strand where there seemed to be dwellings. The creature who had seized him looked like an ogre, so Panther addressed him in the ogre tongue. The ogre, surprised, asked him who he was, and Panther told him his whole story.

The ogre was pleased and said: “Wo-Me is my old home, but it lies about eight thousand miles away from here. This is the kingdom of the poison dragons.”

Then the ogre fetched a ship and had Panther seat himself in it, while he himself pushed the ship before him through the water so that it clove the waves like an arrow. It took a whole night, but in the morning a shoreline appeared to the North, and there on the strand stood a youth on look-out. Panther recognized his brother. He stepped ashore and they clasped hands and wept. Then Panther turned around to thank the ogre, but the latter had already disappeared.

Panther now asked after his mother and sister and was told that both were well and happy, so he wanted to go to them with his brother. But the latter told him to wait, and went off alone. Not long after he came back with their mother and sister. And when they saw Panther, both wept with emotion. Panther now begged them to return with him to Annam.

But his mother replied: “I fear that if I went, people would mock me because of my figure.”

“I am a high officer,” replied Panther, “and people would not dare to insult you.”

So they all went down to the ship together with him. A favorable wind filled their sails and they sped home swiftly as an arrow flies. On the third day they reached land. But the people whom they encountered were all seized with terror and ran away. Then Panther took off his mantle and divided it among the three so that they could dress themselves.

When they reached home and the mother saw her husband again, she at once began to scold him violently because he had said not a word to her when he went away. The members of his family, who all came to greet the wife of the master of the house, did so with fear and trembling. But Panther advised his mother to learn the language of the Middle Kingdom, dress in silks, and accustom herself to human food. This she agreed to do; yet she and her daughter had men’s clothing made for them. The brother and sister gradually grew more fair of complexion, and looked like the people of the Middle Kingdom. Panther’s brother was named Leopard, and his sister Ogrechild. Both possessed great bodily strength.

But Panther was not pleased to think that his brother was so uneducated, so he had him study. Leopard was highly gifted; he understood a book at first reading; yet he felt no inclination to become a man of learning. To shoot and to ride was what he best loved to do. So he rose to high rank as a professional soldier, and finally married the daughter of a distinguished official.

It was long before Ogrechild found a husband, because all suitors were afraid of their mother-in-law to be. But Ogrechild finally married one of her brother’s subordinates. She could draw the strongest bow, and strike the tiniest bird at a distance of a hundred paces. Her arrow never fell to earth without having scored a hit. When her husband went out to battle she always accompanied him, and that he finally became a general was largely due to her. Leopard was already a field marshal at the age of thirty, and his mother accompanied him on his campaigns. When a dangerous enemy drew near, she buckled on armor, and took a knife in her hand to meet him in place of her son. And among the enemies who encountered her there was not a single one who did not flee from her in terror. Because of her courage the emperor bestowed upon her the title of “The Superwoman.”

CHINESE FAIRY TALE EDITED BY DR. R. WILHEIM

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Family, Individuality, Conversation

1. In the story, the family faces many struggles with being both ogre and human, but the family uses their strengths and becomes well known. How do you think that being different to others can often be a strength?

2. How do the family work together to find happiness? Do you think that all families should do this? Why or why not?

3. Ogrechild is strong and has so much courage that she is called “The Superwoman”. What are some things that you are proud of in yourself?

The post The Kingdom of the Ogres first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

SHORT STORY FOR KIDS WRITTEN BY CHERYL RAO

ILLUSTRATED BY TANVI CHOUDHURY

OTHER CREDITS: This book was originally published on Storyweaver by Pratham Books. Pratham Books is a Not-for-Profit organisation that publishes books in multiple Indian languages to promote reading among children. See www.pratham-books.org

* THE STORY ‘’LITTLE PAINTERS’ WAS CREATED BY PRATHAM BOOKS AND IS LICENSED UNDER A CREATIVE COMMONS -BY-4.0 LICENSE. MINOR FORMATTING CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE TO THE ORIGINAL WORK FOR EASE OF READING ON OUR WEBSITE.

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Individuality, Co-operation

1. Vinay and Veena are told to paint the gate, and both paint it in different colours. What do you think this says about Veena and Vinay?

2. How do Vinay, Veena and Mother react when they discover the door is two different colours? Do you this was a good way to react? Why or why not?

The post Little Painters first appeared on Bedtime Stories.