Stories from Near and Far

New York State: The Grandfather Stone

DESCRIPTION

The Grandfather Stone is a legend from Native Americans who originally lived in what’s now known as New York state. It’s a story about how people started the art of storytelling.

Colour the grandfather stone and write your own story

Transcript

Once upon a time there was no “once upon a time.” That was because the people had no stories to tell. They didn’t even know what a “story” was! And that made the winters long and boring for people who were cooped up inside with little to do.  

Children, imagine you are stuck inside homes, how would you keep yourself entertained?

In one village, a boy lived with his grandmother. As the spring arrived, , he took  his spear to  catch fish in the river. By the time the sun set each evening, the boy’s basket was always overflowing with plump, glistening bass and trout!

One year, on the first day of spring, when the blankets of snow melted away and colorful flowers sprang from the earth, the boy ran to the river. He waded into the water, his spear poised above his shoulder.

The little boy called out to the fish in the river, “I see you, little fish. Right there, little fish!”

But every time he plunged his spear into the crystal-clear river, the slippery fish would zig-zag away and disappear downstream.

The boy was disappointed.

By the time the sun went down, the boy’s basket had only two fish in it.

Sadly he thought to himself, “ Oh, no! I’ve never caught so few fish before! Grandmother’s depending on me for dinner. This is going to be one meagre meal.”

Not wanting to face his grandmother, the boy decided to meander home a different way. He entered the dark forest, and took a left turn where he usually took a right. 

Children, what do you think will happen now?

Listen ahead..

Soon, he approached a shadowy clearing. As he stepped inside, he heard a deep, rumbling voice call out, “ Young man, would you like to hear a story?”

The boy was aghast, “Who’s there? Who said that? And what is a story?

He heard the deep voice again, “A “story” tells about the things that happened before this time. It tells how things came to be, and why things came to be. So, I ask you again: would you like to hear a story?”

Children, if the voice asked you , “Which story would you like to listen? “ What would you say?

Now, you remember the boy was in no hurry to go back home. Besides, he was also curious.

He requested the deep voice, “Yes, please! I would love to hear a “story”! But first,  who are you? And where are you? I don’t see anyone here!”

Just then, a gleaming, white ray  of the moon passed through the trees, and lit up the stone in the middle of the clearing. Suddenly, the boy realized where the voice was coming from: the stone!

The stone introduced himself, “ I am Grandfather Stone. I have been here since time began, so I have many stories to tell. But first, storytellers should always receive something for their stories, a gift, in exchange for their gift. Have you something to give me?”

All that the boy had with him were the two fish he’d caught that day. He reached into his basket, pulled out the larger fish, and placed it on top of the stone and asked, “Will this do?”

Grandfather stone said, “ It will do. Thank you. Now, come sit. And I will tell you a story.”

The boy settled down on the ground and leaned back against the cool, smooth stone. He closed his eyes as the stone began the story.

The Grandfather Stone told a story about how long ago, when animals could talk, the proudest and most boastful creature was the bear. The burly beast was always bragging about his most prized possession: a long, glossy, furry tail.

One winter, a clever fox decided he’d teach the cocky bear a lesson. Fox told Bear that if he stuck his tail through the ice on the river, the next day he would catch a bounty of fish!

FISH! Hearing the word fish, the bear’s mouth started watering. He decided to stick his tail in the ice!

Children, can you guess what will happen next?

Well, come morning, guess whose tail was frozen beneath the ice?! Bear tried to yank it out, but it stayed behind in the ice, and ever since then, bears have had short tails.

By the time the story ended, the boy was grinning from ear to ear.

“Wow! This was the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard, thank you  I wish you could tell me one more story, but I only have one fish left. And that’s dinner for grandmother and me. It’s also getting late and I have to run back home! “

“No problem, you can come back tomorrow,” said the grandfather stone.

The little boy rushed back home. When he reached home the Grandmother looked at the little boy and then the basket and said sadly,

“I have been worried sick,

For you didn’t see the time tick.

What! One fish?”

“Umm, grandmother…,” stammered the boy, when grandmother interrupted,

“Shh.. it’s my wish

For you to get more fish

Tomorrow.”

“Surely, surely,” and he went to bed imagining the story that the Grandfather stone told.

The next day it was the same. The little boy took his spear, tried and tried, but he managed to get only two fish yet again!

He went straight to the clearing and placing a fish requested for another story from the Grandfather Stone.

Again, the boy relaxed on the ground, his eyes closed, his head resting against the stone’s cool, smooth surface. Grandfather stone gladly told him yet another story.

After the story ended, the little boy expressed, “ Oh, Grandfather Stone! These stories are the best! I wish you could  tell me more, but I only have one fish left.”

The grandfather stone comforted, “Not to worry, young man. Come back tomorrow, and I will tell you another story.

That brought a smile on the little boy’s face and happily he went back home.

 When he reached home the Grandmother looked at the little boy and then the basket and with a tear rolling down her cheek she said,

“I have been worried sick

For you didn’t see the time tick.

What ! One fish?”

“Umm, grandmother…mother,” stammered the boy, well,

I got two fish but one I exchanged for a gift!”

Grandmother’s eye brightened, “ Gift ?” Looking into the basket she said, “ Where is it?

“Well! It’s a gift that you hear, “ the little boy said wiping the tear off grandmother’s wrinkly face and explained everything.

 “I want to meet your grandfather stone too and listen to what you call stories.”

Children, do you think the little boy would take the grandmother?

Let’s find out.

The boy asked Grandmother to take a basket, and fill it with the slices of fresh cornbread.

With the basket of cornbread slung over one arm, the boy led Grandmother to the clearing in the forest. In the middle, stood Grandfather Stone, his smooth, cool surface dappled by moonlight through the trees.

They both heard the deep voice, “ Young man. You’re back already! And you’ve brought a companion! Welcome!

Grandmother was so astonished that , uh, um, the was all that she could say.

Grandmother watched as the boy emptied the basket of cornbread onto the stone.

With sparkling , curious eyes the boy said, “We would like to hear many stories.”

The grandfather stone said, “Thank you!  Now, I will tell you some stories.”

The boy helped Grandmother onto the ground. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave a loving squeeze as Grandfather Stone began.

The stone told stories about foolish people and clever animals, stories about clever people and foolish animals, stories about how chipmunks got their stripes, how porcupines got their quilts and how we got the four seasons.

Hours went by. Morning came and the moon gave way to the rays of the sun, and the boy and Grandmother were wide awake, wrapped up in Grandfather Stone’s stories

At last, the stone paused.

The grandfather said, “From here on out, stories won’t be kept inside smooth, cold stones like me. They’ll be carried by warm-blooded people like you!  Pass these stories on to your children... and your grandchildren,  then have them pass these stories on to their children and grandchildren. Keep these stories going for as long as the world keeps going.  Now my friend, it’s your turn.”

Then the stone fell silent and never spoke again.

The boy and his grandmother listened to the stone’s final words. They returned to the village, and recounted the stories as they had heard… sharing them with everyone, young and old... again and again and again.

To show their thanks, the villagers offered gifts of food and clothing. But the way the boy and Grandmother saw it, being able to pass Grandfather Stone’s magnificent, splendid   stories on to others was gift enough.

And when spring turned to summer, and summer turned to fall, and fall turned to winter, and the temperatures and the snow began to drop, no one worried about suffering through a long, drawn-out season. They had their stories to entertain them and keep them warm.

And today… the whole world does, too.