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

Passion, Independent Thinking

1. Henrietta is passionate about being famous. What do you understand when we describe someone as “passionate”? Do you think it’s a good thing or a bad thing? Why?

2. Do you think it would be better for Henrietta to be like all the other chickens, or for her to continue to pursue her crazy ideas? Why?

3. Do you think it’s important to be passionate about things that other people can understand? Why or why not?

Bedtime Story for Kids written by Andrea Kaczmarek

Illustrated by Poornima Dolamullage

Book design by Jade Maitre

The post Henrietta Wants To Be Famous! first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

LET’S DISCUSS THE STORIES ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Passion, Conversation

1. In this story, Tlotlego loves to count. What do you love to do?

Bedtime Story written by Laura de Lange

Illustrated by Nicolene Louw

Designed by Ashlyn Atkinson

Edited by Nabeela Kalla

Music Video from zapsplat.com

* THE STORY ‘TLOTLEGO’S TEA PARTY’ WAS CREATED BY BOOK DASH AND IS LICENSED UNDER A CREATIVE COMMONS ATTRIBUTION 4.0 LICENSE. MINOR FORMATTING CHANGES MAY HAVE BEEN MADE TO THE ORIGINAL WORK FOR EASE OF READING ON OUR WEBSITE.

The post Tlotlego’s Tea Party first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

© Sue Clancy 2021

Bedtime story written and illustrated by Sue Clancy

Music video from zapsplat.com

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

Self-Confidence, Passion

1. These rabbits all know what they like to do. What do YOU like to do?

2. What kinds of good things do you think can happen when we follow our heart, and do what we like to do?

3. Can you think of some ways you could discover new things that you like to do?

About the Author Illustrator:

Sue Clancy, an American artist, author, and illustrator who lives in Washington state is known for her whimsical, timeless, comforting, quirky and oddly cute art images and artist books often featuring animals. Though she is the author/artist for more than 6 books and numerous fine art exhibits she is still very carefully supervised in her art studio by a miniature longhaired dachshund and a tabby cat. Clancy loves to read, cook and play with words and pictures. You can see more about Clancy’s art here: www.sueclancy.com

This Rabbit | Free Easter Books for Kids | Bedtime Stories

All these rabbits know what they like to do best. What do YOU like to do?

URL: https://www.storyberries.com/bedtime-stories-this-rabbit-free-kids-books-online/

Author: Sue Clancy

Editor's Rating:
5

The post This Rabbit first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

Why is the energy of passion so vital?

Passionate energy motivates, drives creativity, inspires learning and provides the momentum to keep going.

How do we encourage passion?

We can encourage kids by helping find things that spark their passion, and by allowing them to give their energy to the things they love. Their subject of interest may be one that lots of children share, or it may be more unique to them. It’s about discovering what sparks their desire and responding enthusiastically to that.

Where do I start?

Storyberries provides a wide variety of free online children’s books to enjoy, as well as parenting tips to encourage adults to embrace the energy of passion in their kids.

Choosing the things we love

Encourage creativity by allowing children to choose the activities they love. When we respond warmly to the energy of passion aflame in the hearts of our children, their energy increases, as does their desire to delve deeper and to give of themselves fully.

The freedom to explore

We cannot guess what children’s passions will be – passions are born spontaneously, so it’s important to allow children the space and time to explore their interests freely. The discovery of a passion is in itself a treasure of enormous personal worth.

Allowing uninterrupted moments of curiosity and discovery helps kids in really important ways. By being allowed the freedom to explore, they can awaken their passions, and it gives them a healthy space in which to grow.

Enjoying the process of learning

When children start practicing something they really enjoy, we can try to avoid judging their work in an overly-evaluative way, so instead of judging the outcome, we can appreciate the process – by enjoying their happiness, and by valuing their effort, their search for new solutions, or their intensity of concentration.

Setting challenges and celebrating success

We can help kids by setting creative challenges and celebrating what they achieve. Setting fun challenges takes children out of their comfort zone and gives them confidence. In kind ways, we can also acknowledge where they could improve, because children appreciate it when we are sincere.

Valuing and unifying home and school

It’s very affirming for kids if their parents value their school experiences and find ways to link what they are doing at school with activities or responsibilities at home. Doing so helps to provide continuity and gives children a sense of the value of their contributions.

 

Some Free Books About Passion At Storyberries

Wiggle Jiggle

In this funny and delightful book, Wiggle Jiggle embraces life with passion as he enjoys growing from caterpillar to butterfly. A beautifully quirky celebration of life!

His Kingdom For A Fork

What could be better for encouraging kids to live their dreams than reading a wonderfully imaginative story written by a budding young author? Maddie P. tells the story of a girl called Victoria who gives a very surprising gift to the king.

The Ocean Dream

“Everyone she knows has their own dream” muses Coral. Allowing kids to explore their imaginations is so important for helping them to discover their passions. In this beautiful book Coral explores the world of her underwater ocean dreams.

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 Embracing passion in children and ensuring they follow their dreams 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 was a woman who had a son, and he was so lazy and slow that there was not a single blessed useful thing he would do. But he liked to sing and to dance, and that is what he did all day long, and far into the night as well. The longer this went on, the worse off his mother was. The youth was growing, and he wanted so much to eat that it was barely possible to find it, and more and more went for his clothes the older he grew, since his clothes did not last long, as you may imagine, because the youth skipped and dance about without stopping, through forest and field.

At length it was too much for his mother, so one day she told the young fellow that he ought at last to get to work, and really do something, or both of them would have to starve to death. But the youth had no mind to do so, he said, and would rather try to win the daughter of the mother in the corner, for if he got her, then he would live happily ever after, and could sing and dance, and would not have to plague himself with work.

When the mother heard that she thought it might not be such a bad idea after all, and she dressed up the youth as well as she could, so that he would make a good showing when he came to the mother in the corner, and then he set forth.

When he stepped out the sun was shining bright and warm; but it had rained during the night, and the ground was soft and full of water puddles. The youth took the shortest path to the mother in the corner, and sang and danced, as he always did. But suddenly, as he was hopping and skipping along, he came to a swamp, and there were only some logs laid down to cross it; and from the one log he had to jump over a puddle to a clump of grass, unless he wanted to dirty his shoes. And then he went kerflop! The very moment he set foot on the clump of grass, he went down and down until he was standing in a dark, ugly hole. At first he could see nothing at all, but when he had been there a little while, he saw that there was a rat, who was wiggling and waggling around, and had a bunch of keys hanging from her tail.

“Have you come, my boy?” said the rat. “I must thank you for coming to visit me: I have been expecting you for a long time. I am sure you have come to win me, and I can well imagine that you are in a great hurry. But you must have a little patience. I am to receive a large dower, and am not yet ready for the wedding; but I will do my best to see that we are married soon.”

When she had said this, she produced a couple of egg-shells, with all sorts of eatables such as rats eat, and set them down before the youth, and said: “Now you must sit down and help yourself, for I am sure you are tired and hungry.”

The youth had no great appetite for this food. “If I were only away and up above again,” thought he, but he said nothing.

“Now I think you must surely want to get home again,” said the rat. “I am well aware that you are waiting impatiently for the wedding, and I will hurry all I can. Take this linen thread along, and when you get up above, you must not turn around, but must go straight home, and as you go you must keep repeating: ‘Short before and long behind!’” and with that she laid a linen thread in his hand.

“Heaven be praised!” said the youth when he was up above once more. “I’ll not go down there again in a hurry.” But he held the thread in his hand, and danced and sang as usual. And although he no longer had the rat-hole in mind, he began to hum:

“Short before and long behind!
Short before and long behind!”

When he stood before the door at home, he turned around; and there lay many, many hundred yards of the finest linen, finer than the most skillful weaver could have spun.

“Mother, come out, come out!” called and cried the youth. His mother came darting out, and asked what was the matter. And when she saw the linen, stretching as far as she could see, and then a bit, she could not believe her eyes, until the youth told her how it all happened. But when she had heard that, and had tested the linen between her fingers, she was so pleased that she, too, began to sing and dance.

Then she took the linen, cut it, and sewed shirts from it for her son and herself, and the remainder she took to town and sold for a good price. Then for a time they lived in all joy and comfort. But when that was over the woman had not a bite to eat in the house, and so she told her son that it was the highest time for him to take service, and really do something, or else both of them would have to starve to death.

But the youth preferred to go to the mother in the corner, and try to win her daughter. His mother did not think this such a bad idea, for now the youth was handsomely dressed, and made a good showing.

So she brushed him, and furbished him up as well as she could, and he himself took a pair of new shoes, and polished them till they shone like a mirror, and when he had done so, off he went. Everything happened as before. When he stepped out, the sun was shining bright and warm; but it had rained during the night, and the road was soft and muddy, and every puddle was full of water. The youth took the shortest way to the mother in the corner, and sang and danced and danced and sang, as he always did. He followed another road, not the one he had taken before; but as he was hopping and skipping along, he suddenly came to the log across the swamp, and from the log he had to jump over a puddle to a clump of grass, unless he wanted to dirty his shoes. And then he went kerflop. And he sank down and could not stop, until he reached a horrible, dark, ugly hole. At first he could see nothing; but after he had stood there a while, he discovered a rat with a bunch of keys at the end of her tail, which she was wiggling and waggling in front of him.

“Have you come, my boy?” said the rat. “You are welcome among us! It was kind of you to come and visit me again so soon; no doubt you are very impatient, I can well imagine it. But you must really be patient a little while longer; for my trousseau is not quite complete, but by the time you come again all shall be ready.” When she had said this she offered him egg-shells containing all sorts of food such as rats like. But it looked to the youth like food that had been eaten, and he said that he had no appetite. “If I were only safely away, and up above again,” thought he, but he said nothing. After a time the rat said: “Now I think you must surely want to get up above again. I will hurry on the wedding as quickly as I can. And now take this woolen thread along, and when you get up above, you must not turn around, but go straight home, and underway you must keep on repeating: ‘Short before and long behind!’” and with that she laid the woolen thread in his hand.

“Thank heaven, I have escaped!” said the youth to himself. “I am sure I’ll never go there again,” and then he sang and danced again as usual. He thought no more of the rat-hole, but fell to humming, and sang without stopping:

“Short before and long behind!
Short before and long behind!”

When he stood at the door of the house, he happened to look around; and there lay the finest woolen goods, many hundred yards of it, stretching for half a mile, and so fine that no city counselor wore a coat of finer cloth.

“Mother, mother, come out, come out!” cried the youth. His mother came to the door, clasped her hands together over her head, and nearly fainted with joy when she saw all the fine goods. And then the youth had to tell her how it had come to him, and all that had taken place, from beginning to end. This brought them a small fortune, as you may imagine. The youth had new clothes, and his mother went to town and sold the goods, yard by yard, and was handsomely paid for them. And then she decorated her room, and she herself, in her old days, went about in such style that she might have been taken for some lady of distinction. So they lived splendidly and happily, but finally this money, too, came to an end; and one day the woman had not a bite to eat left in the house, and told her son that now he had better look for work, and really do something, or both of them would starve to death.

But the youth thought it would be much better to go to the mother in the corner and try to win her daughter. This time his mother again agreed with him, and did not contradict the youth; for now he had fine new clothes, and looked so distinguished that it seemed out of the question to her that such a good-looking fellow would be refused. So she furbished him up and tricked him out in the handsomest way, and he himself took out his new shoes and polished them so brightly that you could see yourself in them, and when he had done so he set forth.

This time he did not choose the shortest road; but took a roundabout way, the longest he could find, for he did not want to go down to the rat again because he was sick of her eternal wiggling and waggling, and the talk about marriage. The weather and the road were exactly the same as when he had gone before. The sun shone, the swamp and the puddles gleamed, and the youth sang and danced as usual. And in the midst of his skipping and jumping, before he knew it, there he stood at the same crossing which led across the swamp. There he had to jump over a puddle to a clump of grass, unless he wanted to dirty his brightly polished shoes. “Kerflop!” and down he went, and did not stop until he stood once more in the same dark, ugly, dirty hole. At first he was pleased because he could see nothing. But after he had stood there a while, he once more discovered the ugly rat who was so repulsive to him, with the bunch of keys hanging from her tail.

“Good-day, my boy,” said the rat. “You are welcome! I see that you can no longer live without me, and I thank you. And now everything is in readiness for our wedding, and we will go straight to church.” Nothing will come of that, thought the youth, but he did not say a word. Then the rat whistled, and at once every corner was alive with swarms of mice and small rats, and six large rats came dragging along a frying-pan. Two mice sat up behind as grooms, and two sprang up in front to drive the coach. Several seated themselves within, and the rat with the bunch of keys took her place in their midst. To the youth she said: “The road is a little narrow here, so you will have to walk beside the coach, sweetheart, until the road is broader. And then you may sit beside me in the coach.”

“How fine that will be!” thought the youth. “If I were only safely up above once more, I would run away from the whole pack of them,” thought he, but he said nothing. He went along with the procession as well as he could; at times he had to crawl, at others he had to stoop, for the way was very narrow. But when it grew better, he walked in advance, and looked about to see how he might most easily steal away and make off. And then he suddenly heard a clear, beautiful voice behind him say: “Now the road is good! Come, sweetheart, and get into the coach!”

The youth turned around quickly, and was so astonished that his nose and ears nearly fell off. There stood a magnificent coach with six white horses, and in the coach sat a maiden as fair and beautiful as the sun, and about her were sitting others, as bright and kindly as the stars. It was a princess and her playmates, who had all been enchanted together. But now they were delivered, because he had come down to them, and had never contradicted.

“Come along now!” said the princess. Then the youth got into the coach, and drove to church with her. And when they drove away from the church, the princess said: “Now we will first drive to my home, and then we will send for your mother.”

“That’s all very fine,” thought the youth—he said nothing, but he thought it would be better, after all, to drive to his home, instead of down into the hideous rat-hole. But suddenly they came to a beautiful castle, and there they turned in, for there it was they were to live. And at once a fine coach with six horses was sent for the youth’s mother, and when she came the wedding festivities began. They celebrated for fourteen days, and perhaps they are celebrating yet. We must hurry, and perhaps we may still get there in time, and can drink the groom’s health and dance with the bride!

Fairy tale written by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Engebretsen Moe

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

Passion, Family

1. The son was very passionate about singing and dancing and did not want to work. What things do you love to do all of the time?
2. The mother was very supportive of her son and encouraged him to try to impress the daughter even though she would have liked him to work and make some money for their family. What do you think the story is trying to tell us about family?

The post The Daughter of the Mother in the Corner first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

In a little hilly hamlet of southern India, lived a young girl called Bulbuli. She lived in a hut with her mother. Her house was surrounded by the tallest and greenest trees you would ever have seen. On misty days, the leaves of plants and trees held the biggest dewdrops you could imagine.

Bulbuli was as sprightly as her name. She, along with her friends, would prance through the endless forests around her village. She loved to take in deep breaths every morning as the air carried all kinds of different aromas. Sometimes she could smell a sweet, sweet fragrance. At other times it was a strong and sharp scent. Then there were days when all she could smell was a familiar bouquet.

Waking up to those refreshing scents was the best way for Bulbuli to begin her day. Then there was Totaram the parrot, who would fly into the village every morning, perch himself atop a tree facing Bulbuli’s hut, and tell her of the entire buzz of the forest. He would also tell her of his flights to different lands and the people who lived there.

Bulbuli loved to hear Totaram’s tales. She longed to visit these lands and see their different sights. Her heart would race and thump loudly as Totaram would speak, but it would always end with a deep sigh. She had to stop dreaming of faraway lands when she had never even been to Senseless Point.

Everybody in the village talked of Senseless Point. A few people from the neighbouring villages had been there but no one from her own village. From all the talk around, it seemed like a mysterious place promising an experience of a lifetime.

Bulbuli believed that if she ever had the chance to go to Senseless Point, she would return to her hamlet and describe it to everyone. She would tell everyone about this mysterious place.

On this particular morning, Bulbuli waited for Totaram’s whistle. She fed the hens and collected their eggs. Next she fed the cows and then milked them. All the while she paused from time to time to listen to Totaram’s call. Tired of waiting, she left for her school. All her students in her school sat under a huge banyan tree.

Bulbuli could hardly pay attention to what was being taught. Her eyes searched for Totaram, who had never missed visiting her ever since the time they became friends.

Several days passed and Bulbuli grew more and more concerned about Totaram. She worried that Totaram might be hurt. She had no way of knowing if he was safe. Bulbuli grew more despondent with each day. After school, she would walk through the forests calling out to Totaram.

“Hello! Are you here somewhere Totaram?” she would yell, cupping her mouth with her hands. But there was no response.

Then one very early morning, even before the sun had risen, she heard a very noisy and distressed bird call. She leapt out of bed and rushed out to look. It was Totaram. “Bulbuli! Wake up! I need to talk to you!”

Bulbuli stretched out her arm so that Totaram could perch on it. “Where have you been, Totaram? I have been so worried about you. What is the matter? You seem very upset!”

“There is trouble at Senseless Point. War has broken out in the forest.”

“Calm down Totaram, or you will wake the entire village. What kind of trouble are you talking about? And who is at war?” asked a puzzled Bulbuli.

“The jungle… Oops! Sorry Bulbuli. I do need to stop screaming. The jungles are at war. Senseless Point is not what it used to be. All the animals are frightened. They do not know what is going to happen next. Bulbuli, we have to think of something!” cried Totaram anxiously.

“I still do not understand. How can jungles be at war? Why don’t you take me to Senseless Point?” said Bulbuli.

Totaram grew even more agitated.

“Senseless Point is two sunrises and two dusks away. Your small feet will not be able to carry you there.”

“My mind is bigger than my feet, Totaram, Don’t let the size of my feet fool you. I’m not afraid to do difficult things. Besides, the least I can do is try.”

“The journey is long and hard, Bulbuli. I’m not sure…” mused Totarem.

“Well, I cannot think of any other way to help. You must take me to Senseless Point,” pleaded Bulbuli. Totaram thought for a long time. Reluctantly, he agreed.

“All right then, but we must leave immediately,” he said.

Just then Bulbuli realised that she could not leave without telling her mother. Totaram suggested that they stop on the way to get Koyal, his friend, to tell her mother first thing in the morning.

“Hurry now. We must not lose any time,” Totaram urged.

So off they went. Totaram flew just above Bulbuli’s head and led the way. Bulbuli walked and walked for several hours. She was not unused to walking through thickets and tall grass. But then she grew hungry and tired. Totaram could see that she needed to eat and drink.

“Just a little longer Bulbuli. There are coconut trees ahead,” said Totaram. When they reached the coconut plantations, Totaram let out a shrill whistle. “Whoeeeee….”

From nowhere swung a frisky monkey. He was so full of beans that Totaram had to chide him.

“Calm down, Bandaroo! I have work for you. Stop prancing around.”

“All right Totaram. What is it?” asked Bandaroo.

“Pluck a couple of coconuts and toss them below. My friend Bulbuli here is hungry,” informed Totaram. Bandaroo obliged. He threw down three green coconuts. They split open as they crashed to the ground. Bulbuli hungrily reached out for them and scooped out the creamy kernel. She ate quickly when all the while Bandaroo squealed with delight from the tree above.

“Thanks Bandaroo. That was filling,” said Bulbuli.

“Call me anytime folks. I’m the best thrower in the jungle,” said Bandaroo chirpily.

Totaram and Bulbuli carried on with their journey. After several hours, Bulbuli grew weary and exhausted. However, she was not going to give up. She had an opportunity of a lifetime here. A visit to Senseless Point for people around her village was like a pilgrimage.

Each time that she felt fatigued, Bulbuli tried to picture Senseless Point in her mind. She imagined a beautiful place that could fill people’s hearts with happiness. That scene in her mind was enough to make her forget how footsore she was. The first dusk of their journey set in. ‘Another day to go,’ thought Bulbuli. Bulbuli rested under a tree while Totaram found a comfortable spot on a branch above. Soon it was dawn.

Bulbuli was awakened by the chattering of what seemed like a million birds in the jungle. Bulbuli took several big breaths and stretched her arms out to wake up her body. The morning felt different. She could smell all the familiar scents that she used to every morning, but somehow, they were stronger and more refreshing.

“Totaram! Can you smell the freshness in the air? I love it!” she told the parrot. “You have all day to take your whiffs. Let us get moving,” ordered Totaram.

Totaram and she talked little the next day. He could see that Bulbuli was tired, hungry and thirsty.

Totaram flew down to perch on her shoulder. “There is a stream nearby. We’ll rest there for a while.”

In a little while, Bulbuli heard the sound of rushing water. In no time at all they arrived at the stream. The clear water glistened in the sunlight. The water seemed to be racing with itself to get somewhere. It was a beautiful sight.

Bulbuli leaned over and cupped the water in her hands and drank all that she could. She splashed water on her face and refreshed herself. Just as she was done, Totaram landed on her shoulder once again and nudged her to stretch out her palms. He then dropped red, delicious berries in them.

“Oh Totaram! You are the nicest friend I know. Thank you so much,” smiled Bulbuli.

“Go ahead and eat them. Berries are my favourite food. I have already eaten too many today!” gushed Totaram.

They rested a while and then set out once again. Bulbuli walked and walked while Totaram flew just above her talking to her all the while.

After several hours, Bulbuli sat down. “I need to rest Totaram. I am really very exhausted.” Totaram let out a loud whistle. Within minutes, an elephant strolled up to them. Totaram introduced Hathi to Bulbuli and told him of their journey to Senseless Point.

“I believe only a human can help the war in the jungle. Animals are running away from what is paradise for us,” said a concerned Hathi.

“Will you give Bulbuli a ride, Hathi?” asked Totaram. “Her will is strong but her strength is failing.”

“Of course. Climb up, little girl, but I can only take you up to the trail. After that you are on your own. I cannot be away from my group for long,” said Hathi. Bulbuli was relieved.. Her small legs needed rest and she was able to get a spectacular view of the jungle from atop Hathi’s back.

Hathi, like Totaram, had many tales to tell. The day passed easily. At dusk, the trio settled by a cave. Totaram and Hathi gathered dried leaves and straw and made a bed for Bulbuli. As soon as Bulbuli lay down, she dozed off. At the third sunrise, Totaram did not have to wake Bulbuli.

She was up at the crack of dawn. Totaram brought her some purple berries this time, which she ate with delight. The young girl, the parrot and the elephant began the last leg of their journey. Bulbuli was becoming more uncertain of what to expect. First there was the anticipation of Senseless Point. Then there was the uneasiness of the jungles at war.

As she was getting closer to her destination, her heart began to fill with thrill and excitement but with a tinge of apprehension.

Shortly, Hathi stopped. He said “It is time for me to say goodbye. I must return to my family. All the animals would be grateful to you if you could help end the war of the jungles. We cannot bear to live anywhere else. These jungles have been our home for generations.”

Bulbuli thanked Hathi for carrying her as far as he did. “I hope the jungles hear me out, Hathi. I promise to do my best.”

Totaram sat on Bulbuli’s shoulder and asked her to slow down.

“Look at that trail going downward. That will lead us to Senseless Point,” instructed Totaram.

At this point, a strange humming sound enveloped the jungle. As they walked further, the noise grew louder and louder. “Where is that noise coming from?” asked Bulbuli, covering her ears.

“That is the sound of three jungles at war, and it is only going to get louder as we approach Senseless Point,” hollered Totaram.

Bulbuli could barely believe what was going on. Never before had she encountered such a scene. As she climbed down the trail and looked around, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. But the clamour was ear-splitting.

Totaram pecked at her ear to get her attention. With the shrieks of the jungles, Bulbuli could hardly hear Totaram. Within three more steps, Bulbuli found herself amidst a clearing. It was as if all the trees of the jungle had suddenly disappeared. There were hillocks stretching as far as her eyes could see.

“This is Senseless Point. This is a place where everything grows wild. Humans hardly ever come here,” said Totaram. Then he began screaming, “A human being is here, a human being!” But in the deafening din of the jungles, his voice went unheard.

Bulbuli could not get herself to remove her hands from her ears. She could not understand what the jungles were saying, but by now it was clear that there were three jungles involved.

In the distance, just in front of her, she could see green beds. On her right, were hundreds and hundreds of shrubs with magenta flowers. On her left, she could see very tall plants. The sight before her was breathtaking. And the aroma was stunning.

Bulbuli’s face lit up with wonder. She turned towards each jungle several times over, to take in the splendour. Almost instantly, the noise of the jungles began to die down, as if the jungles had spotted her.

That was when Bulbuli took her first deep breath. She could smell the aroma of Tea. Then in the next breath, she was drawn to the fragrance on her right. It was a spicy fragrance- something she was familiar with. Unsure, she breathed in some more and said to herself, “Ah! Elaichi!”

A gentle breeze pushed her to her left. Her head turned and she smiled when she took in her next deep breath. It was an attractive and pure smell. Instantly, she recognised the plant.

Bulbuli joined her hands and bowed with reverence. “You are Tulsi!”

Bulbuli was overwhelmed by the fragrances. They smelled like three octaves of the same musical note – Sa, Sa, Sa. Bulbuli felt joyful. She stretched her arms and twirled around with her eyes closed.

The fragrances and the musical notes played in her head, over and over again. All her senses were alive. This was a magical moment for her. Never before had she felt so delighted.

Just then, the Elaichi plant spoke,

“Maybe this little girl could punish the Tea bushes.”

“Maybe. Little girl, can you stop the Tea bushes from stealing our fragrance?” asked a Tulsi plant.

Bulbuli was stunned to hear the jungles speak to her. Before she could respond, a Tea bush spoke up. “Maybe if these two were not around, humans might be able to appreciate our aroma.”

“Is that what this war is all about, worrying about your smells getting stolen?” asked a puzzled Bulbuli. She smiled to herself. “Do you have any idea what you all smell like from where I stand? I can smell each of you distinctly.”

“It really is not our fault. We are not fragrance thieves. Our leaves take on the smell of anything that grows around us. In fact, with Tulsi and Elaichi around us, we have to work extra hard to keep our identity. It is not as if the Tulsi jungle and the Elaichi jungle have lost their perfume to me. You just said that you can smell their individual whiff,” said a Tea bush.

Bulbuli took several deep breaths to calm down. She discovered that every time she took in a collected breath of Tea, Elaichi and Tulsi, it helped her relax. There was something very soothing about the three of them together.

“My mother has taught me important things from the Vedas. Do you know what they have to say?” asked Bulbuli. “The sun should be a giver of happiness, the sky should be a giver of happiness, and all trees and plants should be givers of happiness. All these should give us peace of mind. Do you think you are doing that?”

The jungles fell silent. They were listening to Bulbuli. Bulbuli had an idea. She whispered something to Totaram. He flew off from her shoulder almost immediately.

A Tulsi plant spoke. “The Elaichi and Tulsi grow wild. We have no control over where and how we grow. And neither do we tell the wind which way to blow.”

Bulbuli thought for a moment. “In that case, how can you blame the Tea? Maybe you ought to blame the wind.”

“The wind! Tulsi and Elaichi fight constantly with the wind too. They do not want the wind to take their perfume out of here,” said a Tea bush.

Bulbuli was aghast. “Is that true?” she asked.

Neither of the two guilty jungles replied. Bulbuli sighed deeply. Just then Totaram returned. He carried a few Tulsi leaves, some Elaichi seeds and Tea leaves in his beak and placed them on Bulbuli’s palm. Bulbuli gently rubbed them together. She raised her palm to smell them. She let out a loud delighted shriek.

The jungles screamed back in unison, “What is the matter, little girl? Are you all right?”

Bulbuli laughed with joy. “You can now wave the white flag for peace. I have a bit of all three of you in my hand and together you smell like nothing else in the world. One whiff of all of you together is so relaxing.”

Totatram whispered in Bulbuli’s ear. She smiled. “Totaram tells me that the animals in the jungles have known just which leaf to eat when they are unwell. Even the birds have eaten your fruit and leaves together to know how quickly you can make them better again. Did you jungles even know that?” asked Bulbuli.

“These animals eat your leaves to relieve all kinds of sickness. They even come here to Senseless Point to rejuvenate themselves. Totaram, get me a bunch of Tea, Elaichi and Tulsi. I am going back home to brew a warm cup of Tea with Tulsi and Elaichi for my mother. Celebrate, jungles! The world is going to know how well you taste together. Which means that you have to get on well with each other. Can you do that?” asked Bulbuli.

Bulbuli and Totaram giggled. So did the jungles. This time the noise level rose not because of the fighting, but with laughter. Bulbuli was relieved to see the war coming to an end. She realised that the jungles had each been able to feel pride in their uniqueness.

Bulbuli asked Totaram to collect bunches of Tea, Tulsi leaves along with Elaichi seeds. “Jungles, I am now going to return to my village with the most exquisite and refreshing Tea, one with Tulsi and Elaichi. And I promise to return with people from my village to introduce them to Senseless Point. The most refreshing place on earth!”

That is how Tulsi and Elaichi flavoured tea was discovered. Have you tried it yet?

BEDTIME STORY WRITTEN BY TANYA LUTHER AGARWAL

ILLUSTRATED BY SANJAY SARKAR

OTHER CREDITS: This book was published on StoryWeaver by Pratham Books © 2010. The development and production of the print version of ‘Jungle Brew’ has been supported by Tim Talkington. Pratham Books is a not-for-profit organization that publishes books in multiple Indian languages to promote reading among children. www.prathambooks.org

Music Video: “Unanswered Questions” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “An Upsetting Theme” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “To the Ends” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Suvaco do Cristo” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Lotus” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Impending Boom” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com), “Hidden Agenda” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ and additional music from: https://mixkit.co/

* THE STORY ‘’JUNGLE BREW‘ 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

Passion

1. Why do you think Bulbuli dreams of visiting Senseless Point? Have you ever had a dream like this? How did it make you feel?

Motivation, Courage

1. Bulbuli is determined to visit Senseless Point and stop the war between the jungles. How does she show her motivation and courage? What do you think this says about being brave?

Friendship

1. The voyage to Senseless Point is very difficult for a little girl like Bulbuli. Bulbuli’s friend Totaram helps her in many ways. How does the parrot help his friend? Why do you think he does this for Bulbuli?

The post Jungle Brew first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

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LET’S DISCUSS THE STORIES ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Passion

1.Have you ever had a dream to do something special? What was it?

2. What did you do to reach your dream? Or if you haven’t already, how do you think you could make your dream happen?

SHORT STORY FOR KIDS WRITTEN BY FRED STRYDOM

ILLUSTRATED BY MEGAN LOTTER

DESIGNED BY MARTELI KLEYN

* THE STORY ‘MY DREAM IN THE DRAWER’ WAS CREATED BY BOOK DASH AND IS LICENSED UNDER A CREATIVE COMMONS ATTRIBUTION 4.0 LICENSE. MINOR FORMATTING CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE TO THE ORIGINAL WORK FOR EASE OF READING ON OUR WEBSITE.

The post My Dream in the Drawer first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

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SHORT STORY FOR KIDS WRITTEN BY NOZIZWE HERERO

ILLUSTRATED BY SIYA MASUKU

DESIGNED BY LEONA INGRAM

* THE STORY ‘AMAZING DAISY!’ WAS CREATED BY BOOK DASH AND IS LICENSED UNDER A CREATIVE COMMONS ATTRIBUTION 4.0 LICENSE. MINOR FORMATTING CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE TO THE ORIGINAL WORK TO ENABLE IT TO BE READ ON OUR WEBSITE.

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

Motivation, Passion

1. Have you heard of the saying ‘practice makes perfect’? Do you think it’s true?

2. Have you ever wanted to learn something, and practiced and practiced until you could do it? What was it that you learned?

3. Do you think people (or chickens!) often do things perfectly the first time? Why or why not?

The post Amazing Daisy! first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

Every morning for a week before Christmas, Mother Moon used to call all the little stars around her and tell them a story.

It was always the same story, but the stars never wearied of it. It was the story of the Christmas star—the Star of Bethlehem.

When Mother Moon had finished the story the little stars always said: “And the star is shining still, isn’t it, Mother Moon, even if we can’t see it?”

And Mother Moon would answer: “Yes, my dears, only now it shines for men’s hearts instead of their eyes.”

Then the stars would bid the Mother Moon good-night and put on their little blue nightcaps and go to bed in the sky chamber; for the stars’ bedtime is when people down on the earth are beginning to waken and see that it is morning.

But that particular morning when the little stars said good-night and went quietly away, one golden star still lingered beside Mother Moon.

“What is the matter, my little star?” asked the Mother Moon. “Why don’t you go with your little sisters?”

“Oh, Mother Moon,” said the golden star. “I am so sad! I wish I could shine for some one’s heart like that star of wonder that you tell us about.”

“Why, aren’t you happy up here in the sky country?” asked Mother Moon.

“Yes, I have been very happy,” said the star; “but to-night it seems just as if I must find some heart to shine for.”

“Then if that is so,” said Mother Moon, “the time has come, my little star, for you to go through the Wonder Entry.”

“The Wonder Entry? What is that?” asked the star. But the Mother Moon made no answer.

Rising, she took the little star by the hand and led it to a door that it had never seen before.

The Mother Moon opened the door, and there was a long dark entry; at the far end was shining a little speck of light.

“What is this?” asked the star.

“It is the Wonder Entry; and it is through this that you must go to find the heart where you belong,” said the Mother Moon.

Then the little star was afraid.

It longed to go through the entry as it had never longed for anything before; and yet it was afraid and clung to the Mother Moon.

But very gently, almost sadly, the Mother Moon drew her hand away. “Go, my child,” she said.

Then, wondering and trembling, the little star stepped into the Wonder Entry, and the door of the sky house closed behind it.

The next thing the star knew it was hanging in a toy shop with a whole row of other stars blue and red and silver. It itself was gold. The shop smelled of evergreen, and was full of Christmas shoppers, men and women and children; but of them all, the star looked at no one but a little boy standing in front of the counter; for as soon as the star saw the child it knew that he was the one to whom it belonged.

The little boy was standing beside a sweet-faced woman in a long black veil and he was not looking at anything in particular.

The star shook and trembled on the string that held it, because it was afraid lest the child would not see it, or lest, if he did, he would not know it as his star.

The lady had a number of toys on the counter before her, and she was saying:

“Now I think we have presents for every one: There’s the doll for Lou, and the game for Ned, and the music box for May; and then the rocking horse and the sled.”

Suddenly the little boy caught her by the arm. “Oh, mother,” he said. He had seen the star.

“Well, what is it, darling?” asked the lady.

“Oh, mother, just see that star up there! I wish—oh, I do wish I had it.”

“Oh, my dear, we have so many things for the Christmas-tree,” said the mother.

“Yes, I know, but I do want the star,” said the child.

“Very well,” said the mother, smiling; “then we will take that, too.”

So the star was taken down from the place where it hung and wrapped up in a piece of paper, and all the while it thrilled with joy, for now it belonged to the little boy.

It was not until the afternoon before Christmas, when the tree was being decorated, that the golden star was unwrapped and taken out from the paper.

“Here is something else,” said the sweet-faced lady. “We must hang this on the tree. Paul took such a fancy to it that I had to get it for him. He will never be satisfied unless we hang it on too.”

“Oh, yes,” said some one else who was helping to decorate the tree; “we will hang it here on the very top.”

So the little star hung on the highest branch of the Christmas-tree.

That evening all the candles were lighted on the Christmas-tree, and there were so many that they fairly dazzled the eyes; and the gold and silver balls, the fairies and the glass fruits, shone and twinkled in the light; and high above them all shone the golden star.

At seven o’clock a bell was rung, and then the folding doors of the room where the Christmas-tree stood were thrown open, and a crowd of children came trooping in.

They laughed and shouted and pointed, and all talked together, and after a while there was music, and presents were taken from the tree and given to the children.

How different it all was from the great wide, still sky house!

But the star had never been so happy in all its life; for the little boy was there. He stood apart from the other children, looking up at the star, with his hands clasped behind him, and he did not seem to care for the toys and the games.

At last it was all over. The lights were put out, the children went home, and the house grew still.

Then the ornaments on the tree began to talk among themselves.

“So that is all over,” said a silver ball. “It was very gay this evening—the gayest Christmas I remember.”

“Yes,” said a glass bunch of grapes; “the best of it is over. Of course people will come to look at us for several days yet, but it won’t be like this evening.”

“And then I suppose we’ll be laid away for another year,” said a paper fairy.

“Really it seems hardly worth while. Such a few days out of the year and then to be shut up in the dark box again. I almost wish I were a paper doll.”

The bunch of grapes was wrong in saying that people would come to look at the Christmas-tree the next few days, for it stood neglected in the library and nobody came near it. Everybody in the house went about very quietly, with anxious faces; for the little boy was ill.

At last, one evening, a woman came into the room with a servant. The woman wore the cap and apron of a nurse.

“That is it,” she said, pointing to the golden star. The servant climbed up on some steps and took down the star and put it in the nurse’s hand, and she carried it out into the hall and upstairs to a room where the little boy lay.

The sweet-faced lady was sitting by the bed, and as the nurse came in she held out her hand for the star.

“Is this what you wanted, my darling?” she asked, bending over the little boy.

The child nodded and held out his hands for the star; and as he clasped it a wonderful, shining smile came over his face.

The next morning the little boy’s room was very still and dark.

The golden piece of paper that had been the star lay on a table beside the bed, its five points very sharp and bright.

But it was not the real star, any more than a person’s body is the real person.

The real star was living and shining now in the little boy’s heart, and it had gone out with him into a new and more beautiful sky country than it had ever known before—the sky country where the little child angels live, each one carrying in its heart its own particular star.

Are you seeking more books like this? Read our review of the Ten Best Children’s Books About Dying, Loss and Grief.

CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR KIDS BY KATHARINE PYLE

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

Passion

1. The golden star woke one morning and felt a strong desire to find a heart to shine for. We could describe this as a passion. Have you ever felt something passionately and wanted to do it? How did you follow your passion?

Dying

2. The little boy who loves the star in this story dies when he gets sick. The gold piece of paper was beside him when he died. But the story tells us that the paper star “was not the real star, any more than a person’s body is the real person”. What do you think this means?

The post A Christmas Star first appeared on Bedtime Stories.