Bedtime stories

Bed time stories, we have our favourites, they are integral to who we are, I don’t remember exactly which popular stories my parents told us at night to get to sleep, but at some point along the line, I know my Dad switched to his own creations. He would use names we knew from our lives, creatures we loved like penguins or horses and each with its own quirks and missions, and we were always assured that they would come safely home, although we weren’t always this side of sleep in order to hear it. The important thing is we knew we were being tucked into our quilts and foreheads were kissed to the stories of triumphs and of dancing with princes on glass floors. It didn’t all have to relate to a previous part or fit together perfectly, it was more about how it made us feel, how it was tailored to our unique tastes and we knew that we were there in the midst of it, centre stage; the star part in our Father’s eyes and he was our King for the evening.

This is how we were able to sail on a pirate ship into far away lands and join others seamlessly in the land of dreams, or champion unicorns into a race against the clock for first prize in a sky derby.

What I am trying to say that the beauty and the importance of bedtime stories is not dotting all the Is and crossing all the Ts, not making a neat beginning middle and end, but the ability to spring board a young mind from this earth to another realm of bliss, imagination and abandonment, to allow them to escape freely to the land of beautiful dreams, to a world where these irritants are not a part of that place, and this is what I was made to feel each time I laid my head on the pillow, each time my bed was tucked in, forehead kissed and story started, what wonder would await me tonight? What point in the story did my dad’s words fade and my sleep life take over, this is how magical my Dad’s words were, the only indicator I ever had of whether I was here or there was if I could still hear the sound of my sister’s breathing, this is how I would know I am still in this present reality.

My Favourite character was the one he based on me, and she was called Valerie the Valiant, he would call her Val for short, she was strong spirited and wouldn’t take things lying down, she would always be the first to explore, the first to say yes and she was a brave warrior. She had a side-kick called Josephine who he called Joss. This was based on my sister Joanna, she was Kind hearted and loyal, she was a strong influence and beautiful and almost like a spirit guide or fairy godmother character.

Joanna and I agreed that our favourite story that Father ever told was one in which Valerie had gone to rescue a little girl who was trapped in a tall tower by an evil witch. As Valerie was rescuing her, her strength was waned; she almost didn’t make it, valerie’s little animal mascot perry the penguin called out to Joss and just in the nick of time she came along with a vial of health and poured it onto Valerie’s tongue; she made a speedy recovery and shook off the influence of the evil witch. Valerie, the little girl, Joss and their animals, flew back down to earth on a magic carpet and celebrated all afternoon with a banquet fit for a King and was congratulated by the townspeople, they were heroes for a day and the little girls’ parents gave them a hefty reward.

If I have learnt anything from this way of telling stories, its that connection, personalisation and hope must be mixed in with perseverance, imagination and lots of Joy and when I have children, I shall be sure to serve them up some treats.

Be Kind to each other, learn, love and grow.

Night night.