THE GINGERBREAD BOY

The Gingerbread Boy

(From Repetitive Stories: A collection for young and old, Hella Coenen, 1997)

There was once a woman who hadn’t any children of her own and wanted one very much. One day she said to her husband, “I shall bake myself a nice gingerbread boy. That’s what I shall do.”

Her husband laughed at the idea but that very morning she mixed the dough and rolled it. Then she cut out a little boy shape with a smiling mouth and two currants for eyes. When she popped him in the oven she waited for him to bake and then she opened the door. Out jumped the gingerbread boy and he ran away through the kitchen and right outside.

“Husband, husband,” called the woman as she ran after the gingerbread boy.

The man dropped his spade when he heard his wife call and came running from the field. But when the gingerbread boy saw the woman and the man chasing him, he only laughed, running faster and faster and shouting:

“Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!”

On he ran until he met a cow. “Moo! Moo!” called the cow. “Stop! Stop! I want to eat you.”

But the gingerbread boy only laughed and ran faster than ever, shouting. “I’ve run away from a woman and a man and now I’ll run away from you!”

“Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!”

The cow chased after him but she was too fat and couldn’t catch him. He raced on until he came to a horse. “Neigh! Neigh!” snorted the horse. “You look good to eat. Stop and let me gobble you up.”

But the gingerbread boy only laughed and ran faster than ever, shouting. “I’ve run away from a woman, a man, and a cow and now I’ll run away from you!”

“Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!”

The horse galloped after the Gingerbread boy but couldn’t catch him. He raced on faster and faster until he came to some farmers in a field. “Ho! Ho!” they cried. “Stop! Stop! And let us have a bite!”

But the gingerbread boy only laughed and ran faster than ever, shouting. “I’ve run away from a woman, a man, a cow and a horse, and now I’ll run away from you!”

“Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!”

The men joined in the chase but no one could catch the gingerbread boy. He raced ahead until he came to a river and had to stop. There he met a fox who wanted very much to eat him then and there, but he was afraid the clever gingerbread boy might escape. So he said politely, “Do you want to cross the river?”

“Yes please,” said the gingerbread boy.

“Well then, jump on my back and I’ll swim across.”

“Thank you,” said the gingerbread boy and he did that.

When they were about halfway across, the fox said, “The water is deeper here. I think you’d better crawl up onto my neck.”

“Thank you,” said the gingerbread boy and he did that. When they had gone three-quarters of the way across, the fox said, “You’d better climb up onto my head. You can’t be very comfortable there.”

“Thank you,” said the gingerbread boy and he did just that. “We’re nearly there now,” said the fox a moment later. “I think you’d be safer if you get onto my nice long nose.”

“Thank you,” said the gingerbread boy. No sooner had he climbed onto the fox’s nose then the fox threw back his head and SNAP! Went his big mouth. The gingerbread boy was half gone.

SNAP! The gingerbread boy was three quarters gone.

SNAP! The gingerbread boy was all gone.

And that was the end of the gingerbread boy who had been too clever for the woman, the man, the cow, the horse and the farmers, but not clever enough for the fox.

THE KITE

The Kite

Worapun Kittisrisopit

Once upon a time there was a little boy who had a lovely and beautiful smile as bright as a sunflower. Everyone loved him. The sun warmed him during the day and the moon shone down on him all through the night. The boy had gentle but strong hands. He could pat his pony gently and it loved him dearly. He could hammer nails and always helped Daddy fix things on his farm.

One day the boy received a special gift from his grandfather. It was a kite, the first kite the boy had ever had. The kite was blue with a yellow circle on it and a long red tail. That morning the boy’s grandfather took him out and taught him to fly it. They had such a good time together.

One day, when all the leaves had turned golden yellow and were falling down to the earth, the little boy went out to fly his kite in a field nearby. He ran and ran until the kits rose up, high into the sky. As he looked up, the kite flew and flew, higher and higher, until the string ran out of his hands. Suddenly, the strong wind blew the boy’s kite far, far from him. He ran after it until he could run no more, and he sat down under a tree, exhausted. The kite was gone and the boy wept quietly and did not know what he could do.

Above his head he heard the singing of a bird and the bird said, “Little boy, why are you crying?”

“My kite flew away. I want it back so much. Do you know which way it went?” asked the boy.

“I can fly to the wind and ask her,” said the bird.

The bird flew away into the wind and asked, “Wind! Wind! Do you know where the boy’s kite went?”

“Sorry, Bird, I don’t know. I just blow and blow and I don’t have any eyes to see,” said the wind.

Then the bird turned to the sun: “Sun! Sun! Do you know where the boy’s kite went?”

“Sorry, Bird, I don’t know; I just sine and shine, brightly all the time,” said the sun. Then the bird went to Mother Earth and asked, “Mother Earth! Mother Earth! Do you know where the boy’s kite went?

“Tell him to go back home and there he will find a surprise!” Mother Earth said.

The bird flew back to the boy and told him to go back home. The boy walked back home slowly. The sun, the wind, and the water were sad that the boy no longer smiled as brightly as a sunflower. But a surprise awaited the boy.

When the little boy came home, the grandfather was just sitting in front of the house, waiting for him. He smiled kindly and said to the boy lovingly, “Dear grandson, I have special, special news for you today. This morning I was working in the field and the wind blew strongly around my head, then it brought something to me. And here it is.”

The grandfather took his hands from behind his back and in them was the wonderful kite. Now the boy gave his grandfather a very, very, bright and beautiful smile, the smile that everyone, even the sun and the moon, loved to see.

PUTTING THE SEED CHILDREN TO BED

“Putting the Seed Children to Bed”

Margaret Peckham, Mercury Press, 1982

Autumn Story

Part One: The Littlest Gnome

In the autumn all the little gnomes were very busy deep down in the earth. They were making the brown earth beds ready for the Seed Children and mixing good rich broth to feed them in the winter. One day the King of the Gnomes sent for the Littlest Gnome and told him: -

“Go up above the earth and see if the Seed Children are ready to come to bed”

So the Littlest Gnome climbed up through the dark ground and didn’t need any light to see because he was used to darkness. When he popped out above the ground it was so light and bright he was nearly blinded, but he heard birds flying overhead and called up to them:-

“Are the Seed Children ready to come to bed?”

“Good-bye! Good-bye!” called the birds, “We are flying South to keep warm all winter!”

“Why can’t they answer me, stupid things!” growled the Littlest Gnome, stamping his feet.

Then he saw the red and yellow leaves falling and shouted to them:-

“Are the Seed Children ready to come to bed?”

They paid no attention but went on falling slowly and softly, turning in the wind.

Then he spoke to the yellow and purple flowers and asked:-

“Tell me, are the Seed Children ready to come to bed?”

But they paid no attention at all just went on turning their face to the warm autumn sun.

Then the Littlest Gnome stamped his feet in rage and shouted crossly:-

“You are all stupid things! You don’t know anything!” And he ran stamping down into the dark earth to the Gnome King.

“Are the Seed Children ready to come to bed?” asked the King.

“None of the stupid things would tell me!” answered the Littlest Gnome, and he told the King what he had done. But the King said:-

“You are the only stupid one. The birds and the leaves and the flowers were all doing what they should do, but you were not. Just what did i tell you to do?

“You told me to see if the Seed Children were ready to come to bed,” said the Littlest Gnome, looking ashamed.

“Then next time remember what you are told,” said the King.

The Second Gnome

It began to grow very cold so the Gnome King sent a second little gnome up to the top of the earth to tell the Seed Children it was time to come to bed. The Second Gnome climbed up through the dark until he came to the top of the earth. There he saw the apples hanging on a tree and he called to them:-

“Come down, come down! It’s time for the Seed Children to go to bed!”

But the apples wouldn’t come down. The Second Gnome tried to shake the tree but it did no good. Then he called to the flowers to send their Seed Children to bed, but they kept their pods tight shut and wouldn’t send the Seed Children down to their earth beds. Then the Second Gnome shook them and shook them, but they wouldn’t open. So then the Second Gnome called to the Wind:-

“O Wind, please shake the apples from the trees and the seeds from their pods!”

And the Wind came rushing along saying, “Oo-oo! Oo-oo!” and he shook the trees and he shook the seed pods, but he could not make them fall.

Then the Second Gnome looked and saw Father Sun shining down so warmly and kindly and he said:-

“Father Sun, what shall I do, I’ve tried to make the Little Seed Children come to bed, but they won’t.”

“I’ll send them,” answered Father Sun, smiling. And he sent for his warmest Sun Fairies and told them:-

“Go down and touch the apples with your warm fingers and touch the seed pods so they will open and send the Seed Children to bed.”

The Sun Fairies flew quickly down and touched the apples until they grew red and ripe and fell to the ground. And the children ate them, and so did the squirrels, but the seeds they did not seed so they fell to the earth and went to bed. Then the Sun Fairies opened the seed pods with their warm fingers and the Wind blew “Oo-oo!” until the Seed Children danced down to bed. Then the Second Little Gnome went home, his task well done.

THE FARMER AND THE APPLE TREES

The Farmer and the Apple Trees

Author Unknown

Autumn Story

There was once a farmer who was employed by the villagers to grow apples. He lived modestly, and had no plot of land of his own, but the apples he grew in the village common were the best in the land. Those apples were used everywhere, for pies and sauces, cooking and eating. Kings and Queens, wise men and paupers alike knew the juiciest apples came from the village.

One day, some trouble seemed to befall the farmer. The people of the village heard of this and their harsh words drove him away. But the villagers had no one to tend their apple trees, and the trees soon grew wild.

A kind woman took some bread to the farmer. They shared the bread and he told her of his troubles. She told him that the villagers missed their apples, and that they wanted to employ a new farmer to tend the orchard. The villagers had searched far and wide, but no other farmer could be found with such skills of cultivation.

The farmer told the woman that he had no secret. And although he had been treated poorly, the farmer was happy to share what knowledge he had with the villagers.

The villagers visited the farmer. He told them the story of the apple trees.

How he cared for them and tended to their needs. How he mended them if they become damaged, how he watered them deeply, and how he plucked the damaging pests from their bark. How he stopped the weeds from growing too closely, and how he encouraged the butterflies and bees to visit each blossom. The villagers listened carefully and nodded to each other. Yes, yes. Surely another could do this with our trees. But then he gave them more.

He told them that he loved the apple trees as if they were his own children. And that he knew in his soul that the trees would bear fruit.

And the villagers nodded again. They respected this wisdom and faith of the farmer, and the love he had for their trees. They brought him bread, and soup. They nurtured him. After all, he was a treasure. And treasures are hard to find.

THE GOLDEN CASSIA FLOWERS

Written by Jennifer McCormack, 

Autumn 2009

Once upon a time there was an old woman who lived alone in her little house. Her name was Cassia and she had lived a long life, good and kind and true. Each day she would work in her garden, tending her vegetables and her flowers. She had a beautiful flower garden! Her vegetables were cared for so tenderly that they grew so ripe and tasty. Cassia looked after herself and her home well but she was lonely. Her husband had died, her children had grown up and moved away to see the world and her neighbours were a long way away, and only came to visit every now and then.

One Autumn evening, after a day in the garden, the old woman ate her dinner and got ready for bed. That night she heard a sweet singing and gentle chiming music from her garden! She looked outside her window but there was only darkness. She took her candle outside but the moon was very dark and there was not enough light to see what was happening. When she stepped close to the garden the sweet singing and gentle chiming music stopped! So she went back to bed and decided to have a look in the morning. The sweet singing and gentle chiming music began again as soon as she was in bed and she was lulled to sleep with peaceful dreams.

In the morning there she noticed a plant growing in her garden that she had never seen before, a round sprawling bush with little round green leaves on it.

That evening she again heard the sweet singing and gentle chiming music, and every evening for a week or so, but each time she stepped outside the happy sounds would go quiet and there would be nothing to see. But as soon as she was back in bed the music would begin again and keep her company through her lonely evenings.

Cassia checked the new plant every day and after it had been there two weeks it had big round bright yellow blossom buds on it. Cassia was very excited to see what those flowers might look like. She also noticed that since this plant had appeared that other plants in her garden were starting to change. Some had different coloured leaves that were now turning delightful shades of orange and red and gold.

That night as usual she heard the sweet singing and gentle chiming music. Again she tip-toed outside to have a look and this time the moon was full and bright in the evening sky. She could see quite well without her candle. The old woman crept quietly towards the happy sounds, and there in the light of the full moon she saw some little people about the new bush with the yellow buds. “I think they might be fairies!” thought Cassia.

They were. The bush had blossomed and the big yellow buds had turned into beautiful yellow flowers, each shaped like a little cup. Inside the flowers were little fairy babies who were being rocked to sleep by their mothers who were singing fairy songs and playing their gentle chimes.

Cassia stayed to watch them for a while with such happiness in her heart.

The next morning she began to collect eggs from her chickens and painted them so beautifully, and then she left them under the bush with the golden cradle blossoms as gifts for the fairies who kept her company every evening. The little fairies would find them when they returned from their day’s work painting flowers and autumn leaves, and came back to the bush to put their babies to sleep.

For many years, Cassia would wait for the fairies to visit her garden in Autumn to paint flowers and leaves. The fairies would place their babies in the flowers at night and sing them to sleep. When the moon was full Cassia would leave little presents for the fairies to find in the evening, to thank them for their company and for bringing the beautiful colours of autumn.

The bush that grew in her garden is now known as the Golden Cassia, and you will notice that it blossoms beautifully every autumn, every year, and if you are good and kind and truthful perhaps the fairies may visit a cassia bush near you. What gift will you leave them?