Stories and songs for the family table.

Monday story

The Little Red Hen

Once there was a little red hen who lived in a small yard with her friends: a sleepy cat, a lazy dog, and a duck who liked to wander.

One morning the little red hen found a few grains of wheat on the ground. She scratched the earth with her feet and said, "Who will help me plant this wheat?"

"Not I," said the cat.

"Not I," said the dog.

"Not I," said the duck.

"Then I will plant it myself," said the little red hen. And she did.

The wheat grew tall and golden. The little red hen said, "Who will help me cut this wheat?"

"Not I," said the cat. "Not I," said the dog. "Not I," said the duck.

"Then I will cut it myself," said the little red hen. And she did.

She carried the wheat to the mill and had it ground into flour. Then she came home and said, "Who will help me make this flour into bread?"

"Not I," said the cat. "Not I," said the dog. "Not I," said the duck.

"Then I will make it myself," said the little red hen. She mixed the flour with water and yeast. She kneaded the dough, shaped the loaf, and baked it until the whole kitchen smelled warm and good.

When the bread was done, the little red hen set it on the table. "Who will help me eat this bread?" she asked.

"I will," said the cat. "I will," said the dog. "I will," said the duck.

But the little red hen shook her head. "No," she said. "I planted the wheat, cut the wheat, carried the wheat, ground the wheat, mixed the dough, and baked the bread. I will eat it myself."

And she did. It was warm, sweet, honest bread.

Narration: What jobs did the hen do? What should her friends have done?

Tuesday story

The Three Billy Goats Gruff

Once there were three billy goats who wished to cross a bridge to reach the green grass on the other side. Their name was Gruff.

First came the smallest billy goat. Trip-trap, trip-trap went his little hooves on the bridge.

"Who is that trip-trapping over my bridge?" roared a troll from underneath.

"It is only I, the smallest billy goat Gruff," said the little goat. "I am going to the hillside to eat the green grass."

"Then I will gobble you up," said the troll.

"Oh no," said the little goat. "Wait for my brother. He is bigger than I am."

So the troll let him pass.

Then came the middle billy goat. Trip-trap, trip-trap, trip-trap went his hooves.

"Who is that trip-trapping over my bridge?" roared the troll.

"It is I, the middle billy goat Gruff," said the middle goat.

"Then I will gobble you up," said the troll.

"Oh no," said the middle goat. "Wait for my brother. He is bigger than I am."

So the troll let him pass.

Then came the biggest billy goat. Trip-trap, trip-trap, trip-trap, TRIP-TRAP went his heavy hooves.

"Who is that trip-trapping over my bridge?" roared the troll.

"It is I, the biggest billy goat Gruff," said the big goat in a strong voice.

"Then I will gobble you up," said the troll.

"Come along then," said the biggest billy goat. "I have two horns and four strong hooves."

The troll climbed onto the bridge, but the biggest billy goat lowered his head, rushed forward, and tossed the troll into the rushing water below.

Then all three billy goats crossed to the hillside and ate the sweet green grass in peace.

Narration: Which goat was smallest? Which was strongest? What sound did the bridge make?

Wednesday story

The Elves and the Shoemaker

There was once a poor shoemaker who had leather enough for only one pair of shoes. He cut the leather carefully and left the pieces on his workbench before going to bed.

In the morning, he found a finished pair of shoes on the bench. The stitches were tiny and even. The leather was smooth. The shoes were finer than any he had ever made.

A customer came in, saw the beautiful shoes, and paid a good price for them. With the money, the shoemaker bought leather for two more pairs.

That night he cut the leather and left it on the bench. In the morning, two perfect pairs of shoes stood there.

This happened again and again. The shoemaker and his wife were no longer hungry or cold. But they wondered who was helping them.

One night they hid quietly in the corner. At midnight, two little elves came into the shop. They wore thin, ragged clothes, but their hands were quick and cheerful. They stitched and tapped and shaped the shoes until every pair was finished.

The shoemaker's wife whispered, "They have helped us so much. Let us help them."

The next day she sewed tiny warm clothes, and the shoemaker made two tiny pairs of shoes. That night they placed the gifts on the bench instead of leather.

At midnight the elves came in. When they saw the clothes and shoes, they clapped their hands with joy. They dressed themselves, danced around the room, and went out into the moonlight.

They never returned, but the shoemaker's work remained blessed. He had learned to receive help with gratitude and to give help with joy.

Narration: Who helped the shoemaker? How did the shoemaker and his wife show gratitude?

Thursday story

The Turnip

An old man planted a turnip seed in his garden. He watered it, weeded it, and waited. The turnip grew and grew until it was enormous.

At last the old man said, "It is time to pull up the turnip." He took hold of the leaves and pulled. He pulled and pulled, but the turnip would not come out.

So he called the old woman. The old woman took hold of the old man, and the old man took hold of the turnip. They pulled and pulled, but the turnip would not come out.

So they called the child. The child took hold of the old woman, the old woman took hold of the old man, and the old man took hold of the turnip. They pulled and pulled, but the turnip would not come out.

So they called the dog. The dog took hold of the child, and all together they pulled and pulled, but the turnip would not come out.

So they called the cat. The cat took hold of the dog. They pulled and pulled, but the turnip would not come out.

So they called the little mouse. The mouse took hold of the cat, the cat took hold of the dog, the dog took hold of the child, the child took hold of the old woman, the old woman took hold of the old man, and the old man took hold of the turnip.

They pulled and pulled and pulled. Pop! Out came the turnip.

That evening they made a great pot of turnip soup, and everyone had a bowl, even the little mouse.

Narration: Who helped pull the turnip? Why did even the smallest helper matter?

Friday story

Stone Soup

A traveler came to a village carrying only an empty pot and a smooth stone. He was hungry, but every door was closed.

He built a small fire in the village square, filled his pot with water, dropped in the stone, and waited.

A woman came by and asked, "What are you making?"

"Stone soup," said the traveler. "It is good soup, though it would be better with a carrot."

"I have one carrot," said the woman. She brought it and dropped it into the pot.

A man came by and asked, "What are you making?"

"Stone soup," said the traveler. "It is good soup, though it would be better with an onion."

"I have an onion," said the man. He brought it and dropped it into the pot.

Then someone brought potatoes. Someone brought beans. Someone brought herbs and salt. Someone brought a crust of bread. Soon the pot was full and fragrant.

The villagers gathered around the fire. They tasted the soup and laughed together. It was the best soup they had eaten in a long time.

When the pot was empty, the traveler washed his stone, put it back in his pocket, and thanked the village.

"The stone is very useful," said a child.

"Yes," said the traveler. "But soup is best when everyone brings something."

Narration: What did each person bring? What made the soup good?