"Once there was a baby tree..."

"Once upon a time there was a baby tree who was lost in a big, dark woods. She couldn't see her home because it was too dark. She asked a leaf, "Where's my home? Have you seen it?" The leaf said, "I saw a brown tree like you!". "Thanks," said the baby tree. "I see something brown and straight", said the tree, "That must be my home!" And it was. THE END.

This was one of the many stories my friend, Opal, told in our woods. Other children are joining us. I've resorted to using my iPhone recorder rather than writing, as I would in the classroom. Taking dictation is better, because the storyteller sees the progression of the words from left to right, and has to slow down to make sure you are getting all of her/his words down. They patiently repeat what you don't get the first go 'round, which is immensely humbling. But in the woods, writing is awkward. Maybe you could do it. I am using technology. 

In any case, as difficult as it sometimes is to record stories and watch other children in the woods--I am supposed to be supervising, after all--I am delighted to accommodate the storytellers. Their faces shine with the light of discovering that their own imagination can create something very much like the stories they read in picture books. 

The story Opal told also demonstrates that children's stories reveal universal themes of being lost, found, searching for home, and wanting to be with one's own kind. Vivian Paley wrote about this very thing in her amazing books. This video link shows how seriously she took children's words. "Cute" wasn't a part of her vocabulary. A child's words were important to her. And so I will continue to listen to their stories as long as they want to tell them. Ms. Paley would approve, I'm sure.

Stories in the Woods

Anyone who knows me knows I worship Vivian Paley. I have asked children to tell me their stories for over 25 years, and we have acted them out in the classroom.

This school year I have a new job teaching young children half days where the playground includes a wooded area that provides children with the opportunity to do what children love to do in the woods. Running through, staying still, gathering natural items in their hands and pretending these items are supplies for soup or ice cream, they are free to do what I loved to do as a child. They are free to be children. So how does this relate to stories?

I have a new friend I will call Opal. Inexplicably, Opal has adopted me and made me a member of her group of friends who gather in the woods and tell stories. Much of the time the stories are more like newspaper headlines such as, "Do you know what wonderful thing I am going to do? I am going to Disney on Ice!". Today Opal found me on the playground and asked me to come into the woods and tell her and her friend, Annie, "scary Halloween stories". So I went. We sat in our usual place, a crossroads of tree roots, covered with fallen leaves. Here I began recounting the story, The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid of Anything. Opal and Annie didn't know the story, so they were trying to "help" me by including monsters and ghosts, then, when they understood the nature of the benign evil in the story, underwear that walked on its own. I offered that maybe they would like to tell a story of their own. "I can't tell stories", Opal wailed. "We don't do that in my class". So I started a story about one of the many children who had come over to us to see what the fuss was. Soon each child was adding part of the story, and even more interestingly, an item from the woods. Children came and gently laid bark, berries, sticks, and leaves in my open palm as if conferring  a sacrament. With each item we named the next character of the story.

I couldn't write it down, and with so many children coming and going with pieces of nature in their palms I don't think I'll ever remember what we said. But we left the items in the "story circle" for another time. The next time I'll come with paper and pen.

Story offerings