Have you ever had time to stop and listen to a five-year-old telling a story? 

It is so much fun and leads you down memory lane to a distant time when you read every imaginable and unimaginable fairy tale to your own children.

Maybe at bed time, maybe at meal times!

I remember telling stories to my son at meal times, holding a grain of rice stuck to the tip of an ekel (coconut leaf rib) to try and feed a house gecko at the same time. The little creature sat alert on the ceiling, eyes fixed on the morsel of rice with curiosity, while my son ate.

But storytelling to kids has changed, with the passage of time.

Taruki, Aththamma’s eldest granddaughter, was on a video call with Aththamma. She was narrating a story that she had learnt at school. With every few words, she took a deep breath in and asked, ‘What happened next?” before pausing to think. Then she continued with a few more lines into the story. Aththamma was amazed at every twist in the story and also of Taruki’s story telling style.

When Taruki introduced a character named Tilly, she exclaimed, ‘Tilly, Tilly” in a shrill voice, laughing with her eyes. Aththamma knew that part was the highlight – the most humorous bit of the story that had captured little Taruki’s imagination.

In the story, Tilly’s mum called out, ‘Tilly, Tilly,’ at every step of the story making Taruki laugh. Every time Tilly heard her mum calling, she asked for a few more minutes to stay in her dream land in the back yard. Tilly imagined an old fishing rod she found in the backyard to be a magic wand and used it to summon all the characters dear to her. Aththamma got swept into the story and thoroughly enjoyed Taruki narrating the tale of ‘Backyard Magic.’

Taruki was just starting on a new story, titled, ‘Last Tree in the City,’ when Aththamma’s two younger granddaughters, Nikini and Olive walked into the kitchen carrying two paper bags full of Easter eggs. Aththamma greeted them lovingly.

Aththamma was about to read a story to them, when the girls began chanting, jumping up and down, ‘Open the bag, Aththamma! Open the bag!’

Curious, Aththamma opened the goodie bags. Nikini reached in and took the Easter eggs out, leaving just two behind. Olive followed her and did the same. The two Easter eggs that were left behind – those were for Aththamma!

‘Aththamma, lots of sugary things aren’t good for you. So we are taking them all back and sharing them with our school friends.’

Aththamma watched from the corner of her eye as the girls went behind the book shelf, split the Easter eggs between them and packed them into their own little back packs. Then they returned to the kitchen capering with delight. Aththamma had to bite her lips to keep from laughing.

Finally, both sisters were ready to listen to Aththamma reading their favourite story book. ‘Click Clack, Moo, Cows That Type.’

Just then, in came Megu, Aththamma’s youngest granddaughter, smiling and crying to join others for story time. Olive, being the thoughtful little girl she is, went to her back pack in the corner. Again, Aththamma watched quietly. For a few minutes Olive rummaged inside and pulled out her pacifier. Aththamma knew that she had two pacifiers in that backpack.

Olive then walked over to Megu and gently offered her one of the pacifiers, hoping it would comfort her. ‘What a nice gesture!’ thought Aththamma. Olive shared her own pacifier to stop Megu crying, thinking it would work, just like it did for her.

Then Olive sat in the rocking chair, beside her sister and Megu, ready to listen to Aththamma reading their favourite story book. In the meantime, Megu had opened her early reading picture book and pointed to the bear, saying ‘bear”- her loving way of joining the story time.

Aththamma began reading the story. Just as she got to an interesting part of the story,  Nikini dashed away. ‘Now tell the story to mama,’ Aththamma said. ‘Taruki read a story earlier. Nikini it’s your turn now.’

Nikini looked at Aththamma mischievously, giggled and then told her mama, ‘the ducks got bored and asked for diving boards from the farmer.’

That was the last part of the story!

‘And what happened to the cows and hens?’Aththamma asked. ‘Mama would love to hear that part of the story too,’

Nikini giggled loudly.

‘She has a good memory,’ thought Aththamma.‘Surely, she hasn’t forgotten.’

‘The cows and hens wanted electric blankets.’Nikini said, pretending to type. ‘So they typed a letter to the farmer. And they refuse to give milk and eggs!’

It was hilarious. Everyone roared with laughter.

And so ended Aththamma’s story time with her granddaughters. What a joyful reading time it was!

By Diyamanthi Galpoththage – Auckland