Writing fairytales

One my hobby is writing. I mostly write by my own language but as improving my skills of language, I sometimes also try to write by English. My style is mostly as fairytales. Here is one of them (forgive me the grammatical errors - I am just practicing ).

Seeds of the Paradise

Once upon time, there was a big garden in a small village. There was an old man, who took care of it. Every people who have walked by the garden, stopped to admire the flowers and the fragrance of them. Two little children, who lived in the neighborhood, walked behind of the fence at one day. They saw an old gardener in the garden. He was very old man with white hair and white long beard on his face. He looked kind and the children decided to talk with him. They, like many others, were curious about the secret how his garden was so wonderful.

The gardener greeted them with welcoming smile and asked what they want. "We like your garden so much. Here, there are some many different flowers and a lot of butterflies. How everything is so lush and bountiful here? So different than in other gardens?" said the little boy.

"It´s a hard work mostly", laughed the gardener "and the seeds of course. But now, as you are here, would you mind to help me a little? Then I will tell you the secret of these seeds."

So children, a sister and a brother, asked how they can help him. Gardener showed to them where they can get some water and how to watering the plants. They carried many buckets of water to the roses and carrots and to thymes. Work was hard, water buckets were heavy and soon a little girl said: "I am so tired. Let´s run to play for a while. This isn´t our duty to carry these buckets. Why doesn’t he do his works by himself?" But the boy answered: "It wouldn´t be kind. And remember, he promised to tell his secrets to us. Don´t you like to hear?"

So they continued and later old gardener taught them also to sow some new seeds. "What kind of seeds these are?" asked the boy. "They are the seeds of the Paradise", said old gardener. "If you still help me a little, I will offer to you some drink and a story."

The day was hot, sun was shining and children were tired when all work was lately done. The old gardener took them to sit to benches under the big tree, gave them glass of juice and sat himself too.

"Today you too have become gardeners, you two" said the old man and smiled. "But the seeds you have just sowed weren´t any kind of seeds. They were the seeds of the Paradise."

"How come? What kind of seeds they are then?" asked the little boy.

"Every time when you help some others, make good deeds, say a kind word to others, you sow a seed in the garden of the Paradise", said the old gardener. "You might see some of the flowers already in this world with the eyes and smiles of others you help but all those flowers of the good works will wait you later, in the garden of the Paradise.

Today, you sow your first seeds. I am old and tired and as you saw, the work here is hard to me. Day is hot and I was so tired but then you came to help me. It was a good work. Every good work you will do in this life is one seed."

"But do we then have to come here every day to carry the water buckets?", asked the little girl. "They are so heavy to us."

"No, not here. In your life, wherever you go you will see people in need, some hungry, some in trouble, some have lost all they hope. When you help them by any way, you are actually sowing a seed. These kinds of seeds are the beginnings of the most beautiful flowers as you sow them to other people´s hearts. The angels count every single seed and take them to the garden of Paradise. When time comes, and you, if the Lord wills, will enter to the Paradise, all those seeds will be waiting for you there. Or no, not just seeds but the flowers that have grown from them.

But be careful with those seeds; if you meet people who ask help but you just walk away from them without helping them, your seeds will not grow. If you do bad things to others, your seeds will not germinate at all. They will fall to the dry ground and die. By every dead seed also part of you, part of your heart will die. People whom their all seeds have died, have to carry the dead, rock-heavy heart with them wherever they go and that´s bitter, hard way to live. Kind of people don´t never see or feel any happiness in this life or at the hereafter. They have been bad gardeners, whose haven´t had wisdom to take care of their seeds. Let your seeds live, take care of them as they are fragile."

The old man stayed silent and smiled then to the children. "It´s time to go home as it´s late. Now remember my words and take with you some little bags of my seeds. Put them to the fresh soil, give them water and love and one day they will delight you with their beautiful flowers. And not only you but everyone who will see them."

The children said their thanks to the old gardener and left. At the gate of the garden, they stopped and turned to look at the garden for the last time. The old gardener still sitting on his bench, smiled and said: "Remember to sow your seeds, dear children. It´s all up to you regarding how they will grow."

 

Excellent.
For my 70th. birthday my eldest son had my books of stories for children published through Amazon. A great thrill I can tell you.
Keep writing, it is great fun.

 

In other forum I took part to their writing competition and... won again. This was the third time I won.



Here is my story:

The Lily-of-the-valley and the Nightingale

Once upon time there was a green valley. There were a plenty of flowers and birds living there and a little, lonely girl who took care about all of the creatures of the valley. At the evenings, after the work of the day, she usually walked around of the valley, sit under the biggest trees and listened the endless concerts of the wind and the birds. Every of them sang to her about the beauty of the Lord.

At one evening she again sat under her´s favorite tree. It was mild evening, wind was gently and the sun was falling into the rosy clouds. Then she suddenly heard the voice from the tree like someone would cry. She raised the look and soon she saw a little brown bird who looked very very sad.

- Hey little bird, she said, what´s wrong with you?

Little bird sighed and then it said: - How I could be happy as my friend is missing? It´s like half of my heart is disappeared.
- Who´s your friend and where she has gone? Please tell me, maybe I can help you.

The little bird flied under the tree near of the girl. The little girl saw big tears on its eyes.

- I´ll tell you what happened, the bird started. - I and my the dear friend used to meet each others at every spring evening, I sang to her and she sended to me her´s the most charming frangrance. No other flower in this big world can´t bring such happiness to my heart than she did. But then at one day she was gone. I saw that someone had digged her up and... all hers roots were disappeared. I afraid the worse has happened and I can´t ever see her again.
- But where...
- I flied all over the valley and outside of the valley and finally I found out where she was taken. There is a greenhouse far from here. She has been planted to there. But without the free air of the nature she only suffers there and soon she will die. And then I will die too as we are meant to live together forever.
- What´s hers name, whispered the little girl as because of her´s saddness she couldn´t speak.
- Hers name is the Lily-of-the-valley and I am the Nightingale. Please, can you help us?
- By the will of the Lord, I will try my best to release your friend and bring her back to this valley, the little girl promised. - Show me the way to this greenhouse now. Together we can do this - and of course the Lord is on our side if we trust Him.
- Thank you, little bird said. - I knew I will get help when I am in the greatest need.

And then they started their journey through the valley. All the old trees whispered to them good advices, all flowers sended their fragrange to them and thousands of the birds sang their greetings to them. By this the little girl got more courage to hers heart knowing it was right what she was going to do. Help someone who needs help was hers duty.

Soon they saw the greenhouse. It was huge and dark with no lights. The little girl saw the door, opened it quietly and stepped inside. It was full of many different kind of plants and it was like a jungle. Very quiet jungle as there was no sounds like birds or any other animals like in the real jungle. She didn´t know where to find what she was looking for but she kept walking. Then she stopped as very quiet sound of crying came to hers ears.

And then she saw it; very small flower which leaves had curled up and what indeed looked like it wouldn´t got any water for weeks. It looked like it will die in any time.

- Who can be so cruel to do this to any of the creatures of Allah, the little girl was thinking. She touched the leaf of the flower carefully.
- I came to you to bring you back to your home, she said. - Your bird friend needs you and all the valley is too sad place if you are not there. But who took you away from your home and why? I would like to know.
- She said she is a gardener, the small flower said in sad voice. - I tried to talk to her that I can´t live here but she didn´t understand me. Is it true, do you really bring me back to home?
- Yes I do, said the girl but then...

Somebody stepped near of them and put lights on. The little girl raised hers look and saw strange woman in front of her.

- Who you are and why you came to my greenhouse? Are you going to steal my flowers, woman said with angry voice. - I don´t like such thieves, just same if they are young or old. I will call the police if you don´t leave this place immediately!
- This flower is not yours, the little girl said bravely. - You took it from my valley and I want it back. It´s real place is in the wild nature, not in this man-made forest of yours. I don´t afraid the police as if you call them, they will arrest you, not me.
- Is it yours? I am so sorry, I didnt know it, said the woman and smiled. - I took it only because of it´s so lovely fragrance but in my greenhouse it has lost it at all. I am wondering why´s that?
- Because she is too lonely in here. Her´s friend is lonely too and if you don´t give this flower back to it´s home, they both will die to the sorrow.
- I have been as gardener for years but I didn´t know that flowers may have friends, said the woman. - Can you forgive me? I swear by the name of the Lord that my intentions weren´t bad. I too love flowers and all plants and don´t want to hurt them. Can you teach me more about these things?
- Sure but not in here. Let´s help this flower first to its home and you too are welcome to my green valley. I am sure you will like it more than this greenhouse.

The girl and the gardener took the pot where small flower was and carried it outside. After a walking back to the valley they planted it again carefully to it´s own place. The night dew gave to it fresh water to drink and soon it was enough strong to raise it´s flowers again with the most wonderful fragrance.

The little girl and the gardener sat together all night, listened the birds and talked together about all the flowers. And after that, the little girl wasn´t lonely anymore as she has got a friend. And the nightingale was so happy when she saw hers friend again that it sang all night all of hers the most beautiful songs to it and to all who wanted to listen. After that, the nightingale has always sang at the same time at the spring when the lily-of-the-valley is blooming.

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Yep, the base of this story was the old legend about the romance between the lily-of-the-valley and the nightingale.

 

@Saliha - charming stories they are too. Well done.

 

This is the kind of thing I write

The Oopsydiddlydandydees.​

This morning when I came downstairs for my breakfast I found my favourite cup with a broken handle. It was not broken when I put it away. There was a puddle of water on the kitchen floor. That was not there when I went to bed either. Across the worktop was a line of sticky goo. I am sure I cleaned up properly before I went to bed. The drawer where we keep the knives forks and spoons was stuck shut. It opened easily enough last night.


We have had a bad attack of the Oopsydiddlydandydees, You have never seen or heard of them? That is because they are impossible to see or hear. You need to have a special pair of glasses before you can see them. The glasses have to be made by a left handed spectacle maker during the night of the last full moon in July. The glass itself has to be coloured with the juice of the fruit of the Bangolin tree.


The Bangolin tree is only found in the deepest part of the densest jungle in Burkoland. There is only one of them and it only has fruit on it once every fifty years.


You can only hear the Oopsydiddlydandydees if you have these glasses. If you could hear them you would hear their favourite cry.


"It wasn't me, honest guv!"


Sometimes they change this to "I didn't mean to do it, honest guv." They only say this if you catch them doing something.


As far as I know I have the only pair of these glasses in the world. I found the instructions for making them written on a piece of animal skin in the back of an ancient book. The book was called '70 Magic Tricks to Amaze your Caveman Friends.' All the tricks were just making rocks and pebbles appear and disappear.


I was given the fruit by that world famous lady explorer. Miss Amanderella Grotsnobbler.


Luckily the fruit stays fresh forever so I could still get some juice from it when I found the right kind of glasses maker.


You may be wondering what these Oopsydiddlydandydees look like. Well they have round bodies, rather like a table tennis ball and round heads like a slightly smaller table tennis ball. However, it may be the glasses which make them look round like this, but if I take off the glasses to make sure then I can no longer see them.


They are slightly pink in colour. However it may be the glasses which make them look like this, but if I take off the glasses I can no longer see them.


They are about this tall, certainly not as big as that. However it may be the glasses which make them look like this, but if I take off the glasses I can no longer see them.


They are about as wide as here, but not as wide as there. However it may be the glasses which make them look like this, but if I take off the glasses I can no longer see them.


Their voices are small and squeaky. However it may be the glasses which make them sound like this, but if I take off the glasses I can no longer hear them.


They love to live in houses where there are children. They like it even more if there are cats or dogs or ferrets or hamsters.


They really love it when there are children, dogs, cats, ferrets and hamsters all in the same house.


The oddest thing of all is that they do not mean to break things, spill things or do any of the other things that they do. They are just very, very nosy. They love to look at anything and everything. The trouble is that they have never learnt to look with their eyes and not their hands.


So, when I saw my broken cup, the pools of sticky goo and found that the knife drawer would not open, I knew straight away that we had Oopsydiddlydandydees in the house.


I went back upstairs to put on the Oopsydiddlydandydees glasses. I knew exactly where I had put them. They were not there. I opened every drawer and searched every cupboard. As you might expect, every drawer was stuck and would not open for me until I jerked the handle hard. Then the drawer opened so quickly that everything in it burst out.


The cupboards doors all jammed until I pulled really hard until they opened and everything inside fell out on to the floor.

I found the glasses in the Bathroom cabinet, behind a tube of toothpaste. The tube had, of course split open and the glasses were sat in a pool of minty stuff. I had to run the glasses under the tap and wipe off the paste on a towel before I could wear the glasses.


The bathroom was full of Oopsydiddlydandydees. They did not know that I could now see and hear them. The noise they made was deafening. All of them were running around shouting, "It wasn't me, honest guv." at the top of their voices. As they did they touched everything. Soon the bathroom was covered in toothpaste and soap. The taps began to drip and the roll of toilet paper slowly unwound itself from the holder.


Quickly I fled downstairs to the kitchen. It was full of Oopsydiddlydandydees. They were everywhere. They were touching everything. The syrup tin lid flew off and the syrup splashed all over the work top. A packet of flour toppled over and spilt into the syrup puddles. Somehow the tea towel managed to fall into the sink where it lay getting dripped on by a leaking tap.


There was a dreadful rattling from the knife drawer. I opened it and found that the spoons had got mixed up with the knives. The forks were mixed up with the spoons and knives.



I looked round for the brush and dustpan to begin cleaning up. It was not where it is kept. Somehow it had been put in the fridge. I took it out and tried to sweep the floor, but someone had loosened all the bristles so as I swept out they came.


Three of them were swimming in the cat's water bowl and throwing all the water out while six of them were busy emptying the cat's food on to the floor.


One of them was cutting a small slit in every teabag so that when I wanted to make myself a drink, the leaves would spill out into the cup'


Some more were rearranging the magnetic letters on the fridge door so that they spelt rude words.


Three of them were busy taking the sticky part off the notelets so that they would no longer stick to anything.


A lot of them were moving the things from one kitchen cupboard to another so that when we came to look for things they would all be in the wrong places.


All the time the Oopsydiddlydandydees shouted "It wasn't me, honest guv."


"But I can see you doing it," I said.


They stopped for a moment and their shouts changed to "I didn't mean to do it, honest guv." Then they carried on doing whatever they were doing before.


Before I could say or do anything, they all stopped and looked up in horror. The only thing which terrifies Oopsydiddlydandydees came down stairs. As soon as the kitchen door opened every single one of them disappeared.


She stood in the doorway, foot tapping, hands on hips, lips pursed. "What the…..?"


She refuses to wear the spectacles so she has never seen the Oopsydiddlydandydees and so she does not believe in them. Even if she did put the glasses on she would not see or hear them. As I said, they are terrified of her and hide. Oopsydiddlydandydees are very, very good at hiding.


They call her 'The monster with the vacuum cleaner.'


I could not think of anything to say other than "It wasn't me, honest, love."