Stories

Seven Tips for Initiating Change: Inspiring Sharing and Community… The story of Stone Soup

| Amanthi

 

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Once upon a time, deep in the woods, an old woman went walking; she wasn’t lost, but she had wandered far from her friends and family and home, she had nowhere particular to go. She hadn’t eaten for many days and she was very hungry. After some time, she came to a village. She knocked at the first house she saw. A woman opened the door.

“Please may I have something to eat?” the old woman begged.

“Food?” snarled the villager. “We’re all starving here, didn’t you know? We haven’t enough food for our own families! Go away!”

The old woman went to the next house.

“We have too little to give any away,” a man told her sadly.

“We need the little we have,” said a young farmer and his wife.

One by one, the villagers shut their doors on the old woman, but she just nodded and headed back into the woods.

Under the great trees she gathered sticks, branches and some logs and staggered back with them to the village square, where she built a big strong fire. From under her cloak she brought out a cooking pot and filled it with water at the village fountain and set the pot on the fire. A little boy called Ralph stopped to watch. As the water started to boil he saw the old woman reach deep into the pocket of her skirt and bring out…a stone. Smooth and round and polished. She dropped it into the pot. Splosh! Ralph crept closer. The old woman stirred the pot and sniffed and nodded. She tasted a few drops and smiled.

“What are you doing?” Ralph asked.

“Making stone soup of course,” replied the old woman.

“What’s that?”

“It’s delicious, that’s what.”

The old woman tasted a few more drops. Ralph’s mouth watered and his empty little tummy rumbled.

“But you know…” said the old woman.  “…it would taste so much nicer with just a little onion…”

“We’ve got an onion at home!” Ralph cried and raced off back to his house.

“Wonderful!” the old woman said and took out her knife.

Chip, chop, choppetty chop,

Cut off the bottom and cut off the top

Chop up the middle and into the pot!

Plop!

In went the onion. The pot bubbled. The old woman stirred and Ralph watched. And one by one, the villagers came out of their houses to see what was going on. They smelled the faint oniony smell in the air and their mouths watered, their stomachs rumbled. The old woman tasted the soup again.

“Lovely,” she declared. “But it needs a touch of something more, just a little…”

“I’ve got a cabbage, if you want,” offered the woman from the first house. “It’s not big enough for much. You might as well have it.”

“I’ve got a few carrots you can have,” added a man.

“I have some potatoes,” a young woman said.

Everyone else joined in:

“I’ve got peas!”

“We have parsnips!”

“A little barley, perhaps?”

“Radish!”

“Turnip!”

“Spinach!”

“Broccoli!”

“Pumpkin!”

People rushed to bring out their offerings. Soon a rich hearty broth bubbled in the pot.

“Go and get your bowls and spoons,” the old woman called.

She ladled out soup and kept on going until everyone had eaten their fill. People sat back, talking and laughing, for the first time in months forgetting their troubles. The children played peacefully, not hungry for once. Meanwhile, the old woman took out her stone and washed it at the pump. She cleaned the cooking pot and her utensils, tucked them under her cloak and started up the road out of the village. The villagers ran after her.

“Don’t go! Please stay!” they pleaded. “You’ve brought us luck!”

“But you have everything you need now,” the old woman replied. “And over the mountains there’s another village, I hear, where no one knows how to make Stone Soup.”

And with that she went on her way.  (As retold by Amanthi.)

Seven tips for initiating change as learned from Stone Soup:

1. If nobody appears interested in your idea, start doing it anyway

One by one, the villagers shut their doors on the old woman, but she just nodded and headed back into the woods.

2. Do it with purpose;

Under the great trees she gathered sticks, branches and some logs and staggered back with them

3. Do it in public

… to the village square

 4. Do it well.

…where she built a big strong fire.

5. Tell people about it.

“What are you doing?” Ralph asked.

“Making stone soup of course,” replied the old woman

 6. Sing its praises.

“Lovely,” she declared.

7. Suggest ways in which others might help.

“But it needs a touch of something more…”

Happy cooking!

 

Stone Soup – storytelling in Oxleas Wood

| Amanthi

Oxleas Wood

We went walking in Oxleas Woods, parents and children from my daughter’s school, some younger brothers and sisters, babies, a little dog. When it was time to rest, we shared biscuits and fruit; a dad made giant bubbles that wobbled and floated off glinting among the great trees. I told the story of Stone Soup, my one  prop a favourite stone.stone for Stone Soup

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The beautiful woods created the perfect hush as the little old woman came hunched and small and hungry, searching for a village where she might ask for food…

During our walk through the woods I’d asked the children to find one object to add to the ‘cooking pot’. When it came to their turn, they made fantastic villagers, gleefully dropping acorn pumpkins, leaf carrots and pebble onions into the soup! They slipped easily into the world of the story, the transition between real and imagined seeming effortless to them!

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Five tips for successful story making – from THE STORYTELLER by Saki

| Amanthi

The Storyteller a short story by Saki

“You don’t seem to be a success as a story-teller,” said the bachelor suddenly from his corner.

The aunt bristled in instant defence at this unexpected attack.

“It’s a very difficult thing to tell stories that children can both understand and appreciate,” she said stiffly.

“I don’t agree with you,” said the bachelor.

There are some essential tips for storytelling contained in this short funny story about a passenger in a train carriage forced to endure three bored, noisy children. He does so by making up a story that is far more engaging than the story made for them by their harassed and weary aunt! The following can be learnt from the tale:

1.Be original but never moral:

“Was she pretty?” asked the bigger of the small girls.

“Not as pretty as any of you,” said the bachelor, “but she was horribly good.”

There was a wave of reaction in favour of the story; the word horrible in connection with goodness was a novelty that commended itself. It seemed to introduce a ring of truth that was absent from the aunt’s tales.

2.Be aware of your listener’s reactions; allow them time to absorb the details of your story and to create its world for themselves:

The storyteller paused to let a full idea of the park’s treasures sink into the children’s imaginations.

3.Introduce a dramatic event to hook your listeners:

Just then an enormous wolf came prowling into the park…

“What colour was it?” asked the children, amid an immediate quickening of interest.

4. Find an unusual or unexpected ending (Saki was the master at this!):

[The wolf] dashed into the bush, his pale grey eyes gleaming with ferocity and triumph, and dragged Bertha out and devoured her to the last morsel. All that was left of her were her shoes, bits of clothing, and the three medals for goodness. … 

“The story began badly,” said the smaller of the small girls, “but it had a beautiful ending.”

5. Don’t expect everyone to love your story:

“A most improper story to tell to young children! You have undermined the effect of years of careful teaching, [said the aunt].”

…a story about a little whittled girl… The Nest

The birds say hello to the girl back at the nest
| Amanthi

The Nest

A little girl went walking in the woods.

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As night fell she came across a nest.

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Inside were two oddly shaped eggs – one blue, one pink.

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She climbed in and lay down with them.

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‘Not as comfortable as my bed,’ she said, ‘but it’ll do.’ After a while she fell asleep.

In the morning when she woke up, there was only the pink egg left. In place of the blue was a bird.

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‘Can I have some breakfast?’ it chirped.

‘Yes, alright,’ said the girl and went to pick some berries.

When she returned, the pink egg was gone. In its place was another bird.

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‘Tweet, tweet!’ said the first bird excitedly. ‘This is my friend.’

The two birds and the girl ate the berries and they played together all day.

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‘Where is your home?’ the birds asked the girl.

‘Far away,’ said the girl.

‘Do you miss it?’ the birds asked.

‘Most of all I miss my warm bed,’ she said.

As night fell the birds said goodbye.

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‘Can I come with you?’ asked the girl.

‘You can’t fly,’ they said sadly. ‘And we can’t carry you, our home is too far away.’

They kissed the girl and flew away.

The little girl climbed into the empty nest.

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As she slept, the two birds returned: one with a sail and one with the blanket from her old bed.

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They nudged the nest into a stream and watched the girl float towards the sea over which they lived…

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… and followed her all the way.

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… and now the story we made: The Fairy Ball

The fairies had a lovely ball
| Amanthi

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 Once upon a time in Fairy Land, the Blue Fairy went to a ball. All the fairies were dressed in their most beautiful clothes, singing and dancing and chatting happily while all around them floated little trays full of tiny cakes and pies and fruit juices.

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The next day the Blue Fairy took her children to her friend the Writer Fairy’s house, and while the Writer Fairy set off to her writing shed at the bottom of the garden, the children played together. The Blue Fairy sat on a toadstool and sipped rosebud tea, thinking of the lovely time she’d had the night before.

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And in the shed, the Writer Fairy wrote of fairies in ball gowns made of the softest flower petals and shimmering fabrics, the delicious food and drinks served in the finest fairy-gold goblets, and the Writer Fairy got so carried away that some of her magic slipped into the pages, settling here and there among the words.

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 Many years later in Human Land, it was half-term and raining and three children: James, Kerry and baby Lily were very bored.

“Let’s go to the bookshop,” said James.

“Good idea,” said Kerry.

“Giggy goo,” said the baby.

So they put on their wellies and set off.

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At the bookshop the baby looked at a book about shapes and colours, James read about dinosaurs but Kerry kept searching. Fallen behind a shelf she found a strange old book about a fairy ball. Kerry sat down and started to read:

‘The food at the ball was truly splendid, there were cherry pies and chocolate drops and the most delicious raspberry juice in golden goblets-’

Suddenly two golden goblets floated into the air.

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 “Ooh!” said Kerry and took one and sipped its ruby red drink. “Delicious! Raspberries!” She drank from the second goblet too.

“Look James, look at these tiny magic goblets,” she cried but when James looked up they’d disappeared.

“Don’t be silly,” James said and went back to the dinosaurs.

Kerry looked around.

“I must have imagined it,” she thought but she could still taste the sweet raspberry juice.

She shrugged and carried on reading:

‘…the Blue Fairy wore a gown of blue ripples and streams, covered in sparkles-’

Kerry blinked. The tips of the fairy’s wings had just moved on the page.

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Kerry peered at the fairy. The wings flickered again! Then they lifted off the page and with a slight whoosh the Blue Fairy came out of the book and fluttered before Kerry.

“What have you done?” the Blue Fairy asked crossly. “Why am I here?”

“I- I- don’t know,” stammered Kerry.

“What magic have you used?” the Blue Fairy demanded.

“I don’t know any magic,” said Kerry.

“You must send me back at once,” the Blue Fairy said. “I’m supposed to be looking after some little children.”

“But I don’t know how to,” Kerry wailed, frightened for the poor children.

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Kerry thought for a moment.

“The golden goblets disappeared after I drank the raspberry juice,” she told the Blue Fairy. “Maybe if I did something with you, you’d disappear too, and go back to fairyland?”

“Maybe,” said the fairy. “How about a dance?”

“Oh yes!” said Kerry. “I’ve never danced with a fairy before.”

“It’s easy,” said the Blue Fairy and they held hands and jigged about for a while.

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Unfortunately, when they stopped, nothing happened.

“I know,” said the Blue Fairy, “Let me grant you a wish.”

“Oooh!” said Kerry. “Thank you! Well, that’s easy; I’d like a beautiful dress, please, just like the one you wore to the ball!”

The Blue Fairy waved her wand.

“Abracadabra, dibetty-doo;

  Make Kerry a dress, and let it be blue.

 Abracadabra dobbity-dish!

 Make it silky and sparkly and swirl and swish!”

Sparks sprayed from her wand then she disappeared. Kerry looked around for her new dress, but there wasn’t one.

“What a shame her magic didn’t work,” she thought. “I hope she got back alright.”

She went back to the strange book, but it was time to go.

“Mummy gave us some money to buy books,” said James. “Have you two chosen something?”

“Goo, goo, gumps!” said the baby, and they bought her the colours and shapes book.

James bought himself the dinosaur book and of course, Kerry bought the Fairy Ball book.

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They went home and had lunch and then it was time to rest. Mummy took the baby for a nap and James went to his room to play. Kerry went upstairs. As she opened her bedroom door she stood and stared: her room was filled with sparkly blue light.

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Slowly she went in, and hanging from the cupboard door was… a beautiful blue dress! A fairy dress! It glittered and shimmered, and when she put it on, it was the softest floatiest dress she had ever worn.

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She wore it all afternoon, and she even had it on when she went downstairs at tea time.

“Where did you get that?” Mummy asked.

“Er… umm… from a fairy who came out of my book,” she said.

“Oh not that book again!” grumbled James. “Tell her to stop fibbing Mum. There’s no such thing as a magic book!”

But Mummy was suddenly very interested.

“What’s the name of the book?” she asked.

When Kerry told her, she started to smile.

“You’re a very lucky girl to have found that book!” Mummy said. “It’s meant to have magic in some of the words which makes them come alive when you read them! But it only ever happens once for every child.”

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Kerry was very excited. There were loads more words she hadn’t read yet. After the holidays, she practised her letters very carefully and soon she could read more words in the book, and now and again she came across a magic one and she’d find a tiny fairy cake or a delicious fairy-berry or she’d meet a little fairy who would grant her a wish and disappear in a shower of pretty sparkles. After some time she’d read the whole book and every time she reached the special words, she felt their magic and remembered her adventure all over again!

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