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We present the second and final part of our audio drama (part one is here) in which Sir Gawain meets his destiny on New Year’s Day. He must allow The Knight of the Green Chapel one strike against him with an axe. In the meantime he faces a more delicate challenge in the castle of Lord Bertilak.

• Natasha Gostwick as Morgan Le Fay and Lady Bertilak
• Richard Scott as Sir Gawain and King Arthur
• Sam Freeman The Green Knight and Lord Bertilak

Many thanks to Jon Sayles for his site full of free recordings of early music which he plays so wonderfully on the classical guitar. Do fill up your iPod with Jon’s MP3s because there’s some lovely music here.

Adapted by Hugh Fraser for Storynory.

[pull up sound of hunting horns]

Morgan Le Fay

Before the cock crowed, the huntsmen and hounds gathered in the courtyard of the castle. They set out noisily for the forrest, with many barks and calls on the hunting horn. Wild things trembled when they heard the din. Deer darted along the valley. Soon the hinds were springing this way and that to flee the flying arrows and the greyhounds snapping at their feet. Bertilak galloped ahead of the pack, thrilling to the chase.

But in the castle, the handsome head of Sir Gawain lay on his pillow. His strong limbs stretched out between the richly coloured covers of the bed. As the rays of the morning sun fell on his face, he lingered somewhere between sleep and awakening.

Sir Gawain

I hear the latch on the door rise gently. I feel a soft presence in the room. Do I dream? She parts the curtain of the bed, and settles gently down near my feet. I feel her blue eyes gazing on my face. What shall I do? Pretend to sleep on? But better, I think, to find out what brings her here. (Yawning noise)…. My Lady Bertilak….

Lady Bertilak

You, Sir Gawain, are my prisoner. You failed to hear me enter. The sentries of your five senses were asleep. And now I have taken you by surprise.

Sir Gawain

Fair lady, I beg for mercy. But now, I pray, retreat behind the door so that I may rise and dress, and then I can receive you more properly.

Lady Bertilak

No indeed, my noble prisoner. You shall not rise from your bed. Instead, I shall tuck you in, and I shall sit here and and talk pleasantly with the knight whom I have caught.

Sir Gawain

It is my pleasure to be held captive by one so lovely.

Lady Bertilak

Lucky will be the one who marries you. If a woman lived seven life times, it would be hard to find a husband more handsome, noble and pleasant.

Sir Gawain

Then you are all the more fortunate, because you have already chosen a husband who is better than me in every respect.

Lady Bertilak

But I am no longer sure that you are true knight. For would not a true Knight seek at least a single kiss from a lady?

Sir Gawain

Very well my lady, if I will grant you one chaste kiss , will you set me free?

Lady Bertilak

I agree to your terms. In exchange for one kiss, I will release my prisoner – for now.

Morgan Le Fay

Lady Bertilak held the Knight’s handsome head in her hands, and her lips gave him a single kiss on the forehead. A moment later, she slipped from the room. Sir Gawain arose and dressed, and occupied himself happily until evening when Bertilak returned from the hunt. The whole household gathered in the great hall to see the cuts of meat, the venison they had prepared for roasting.

Bertilak

Sir Gawain, do you not agree that is a profitable result for a day’s hunting?

Sir Gawain

It is the finest kill I have seen for many a year.

Bertilak

It is all yours, Sir Gawain. I give it to you freely as we agreed in our pact. And if you have gained anything good today, will you give it to me?

Sir Gawain

I have indeed won a prize today, but this is all it was.

Morgan Le Fay

And Sir Gawain embraced his host and kissed him on the forehead as tenderly as he could manage.

Bertilak (laughingly)

Well perhaps your gift was the better of the two. Will you tell me where you gained this kiss?

Sir Gawain

No Sir. I shall not. The rules of our pact do not stipulate that I must give you that information.

Bertilak

Well thank you for trading so freely. What if we do the same tomorrow? I will go out hunting in the morning, and you rest in the castle. In the evening we shall exchange whatever good we have gained during the day.

Sir Gawain.

It shall be my honour and my pleasure.

Morgan Le Fay

They sat that evening eating, drinking, and enjoying their conversation. At the dawning of the next day, Bertilak led the hunt across the fields through the mist. At the edge of the marsh, the hounds caught the scent of a wild boar. A white tusk flashed in the first rays of the sun. The hoary old beast was fenced in by the snarls of the dogs and the spears of the men. He lowered his porcupine head and charged at his tormenters. Arrows flew and ricocheted off his hairy hide. Dogs yelped and men screamed as the fierce pig gashed them.

Back in the castle, the lord’s wife slipped once again into the room of Sir Gawain and softly closed the door behind her.

Sir Gawain

Good morning, dear lady.

Lady Bertilak

I no longer believe that you are truly Sir Gawain as you say you are. You are in impostor.

Sir Gawain

My lady Bertilak, I cannot think what I have done to put such doubts into your mind.

Lady Bertilak

Why it seems strange that a knight, so famed the world over for his manners, grace and chivalry to women, should have so promptly forgotten the lesson I taught him yesterday.

Sir Gawain

I beg your forgiveness. What lesson was that?

Lady Bertilak

Why don’t you recall? The lesson of a kiss.

Sir Gawain

Dear Lady. If it pleases you, it shall be my honour to receive one kiss on the cheek.

Morgan Le Fay

Lady Bertilak kissed the knight gently on the cheek, and laughingly questioned him about the art of courtly romance. Sir Gawain deftly answered her questions, always with great courtesy , but skillfully denying her the chance to demand any more kisses. Until at last, at mid morning, he allowed her just one more kiss, a parting one as is proper. She left him with a loving smile, and he rose and dressed for the day.

Meanwhile, Lord Bertilak stood ankle deep in a cold stream, a sword in his hand. The great wild boar stood higher up the hill, grunting menacingly, its bristles on end. It lowered its head and charged with its ferocious tusks pointing straight at the knight. There followed a fight in which both rolled over in the stream. It was single combat, man versus pig, tusk against sword, but the boar got the worst of it, and Bertilak, though wounded, held its head up high. All around the huntsmen blew their horns to celebrate the kill and their mater’s triumph.

That evening in the castle, Bertilak presented the huge hairy head and the cuts of pork to Sir Gawain as his gift. And Sir Gawain, according to the rules of the game, gave Bertilak the winnings he had won during his day in the castle.

Sir Gawain

(Two Kissing sounds)

Bertilak

Ha-Ah ! This is twice as good today. Two kisses ! At this rate you shall be a rich man. I thank you, Sir Gawain, once again for playing so fairly and so honorably. By St. Giles, you are the best man I know. Now let us dine and relax, and tomorrow let us play the game of trades a third and final time.

Morgan Le Fay

In the morning, after Mass and a quick bite of breakfast, Bertilak mounted his horse and led the hunt out over the bright frosty ground. The hard winter sun rose above the hill tops, and the clouds reached across the skies with long rosy fingers. The huntsmen released the hounds at the edge of the woods, and as the horns blew all around, some of the whippets caught the scent of a fox. The hounds soon caught up, panting hard, and some of the huntsmen caught sight of a fleeting red flash. The fox doubled back, dodged through hedgerows, paddled across streams, slipped through prickly thickets, slid between narrow rocks, and many times the hounds lost his cunning scent, only to catch it again minutes later….. while in the castle, our noble knight lay sleeping, resting his strong limbs.

The lady of the house dressed herself in her most lovely robe, and arranged the pearls over her delicate breast. She trod silently down the corridor, and slipped into the room of her sleeping guest. He stirred and groaned, as if he was having some bad dream. She bent low over his head and softly kissed his face.

Sir Gawain.

Lady Bertilak. This is the most pleasant awakening.

Lady Bertilak

And now I will scold you. You are very much to blame if you do not love the lady who has come to you so frankly. It is not courteous for a knight to fend off a woman’s advances, as if they were the stabs of an enemy.

Unless, of course, you love another. Yes, that is the only conclusion I can draw. You do not return my kisses because you carry the picture of a sweetheart in your soul, one who is more beautiful and delightful to your eyes.

Sir Gawain.

I sear a double oath. I have no sweetheart, nor do I intend to have any for now.

Lady Bertilak.

That is very painful for me to hear. Now Sir, let us kiss one more time, and I will leave you to your rest.

Sir Gawain

It will be my great pleasure to receive one more kiss.

Lady Bertilak

There. That is your last kiss. But before I leave you with my broken heart, will you not give me just some little gift, a token of our friendship that has been so proper, something to ease my sorrow. May I take a glove to remember you by?

Sir Gawain

My glove is nothing special. It is not a fitting gift for a lady.

Lady Bertilak.

I will make a fair exchange. I will give you this ring in return. Its jewel is clear and bright, and very costly.

Sir Gawain.

I could not accept such a gift.

Lady Bertilak.

Very well. I shall leave you.

Sir Gawain.

Goodbye, my lady.

Lady Bertilak

Unless, perhaps, you will accept something less eye-catching from me. This green belt which I wear around my waste. I would be glad for you to have it as your own. It looks plain enough to the untrained eye, but I will tell you this secret. It was made by the witch, Morgan Le Fay, whom you have seen, though you may not have known it was her. She is the revered lady, now old, but once beautiful, how lives under this roof. Long ago, when she was fresh and young, she loved Merlin the Wizard and from him she learned much magic. He or she who wears this magical garter is immune to any weapon. No cut of a sword or an axe can harm the one who wears it. I think it might prove useful to a man of your profession.

Sir Gawain

No harm from any weapon, you say. My lady,

Lady Bertilak

No harm.

Sir Gawain

By St. Mary, I shall gladly accept this gift, and thank you with all my heart.

Lady Bertilak

Here. I unclasp the belt from my waist, and place it on the end of your bed. And if you are not afraid, I will step closer and give you one more kiss, the third, and truly the last on this day, and then, upon my word, I shall leave you. But will you make me this promise, on your honour as a true knight, that you will say nothing of this gift to my husband?

Sir Gawain

My lady, you have my word. I shall say nothing of this gift.

Morgan Le Fay

With one final kiss, the lady and the knight parted. He rose and placed the green belt among his things. Hope sprang up in his heart. He believed that he might yet see the sun set on New Year’s Day. When he was dressed, he went directly to chapel, asked to see the priest, and made his confession, though he did not think to mention to the priest anything of his trust in the green belt of Morgan Le Fay.

Toward the end of the day, the hunting hounds ran the fox to ground, and cunning Reynard met a swift end. Bertilak returned to the castle with its mangy red pelt as his trophy.

Bertilak

Good Sir Gawain. This is all I have to show my day in the saddle, though I must say the hunting was fast and fun. I trust your day has rewarded you better.

Sir Gawain

I thank you. I have enjoyed a most pleasant day, and I am in the best of spirits. And this evening I have three gifts to offer you. (Three kissing sounds)

Sir Bertilak

By Mary, you are fortunate to have found such gifts, provided you struck a good bargain for these three kisses !

Sir Gawain

I believe I did, sir.

Morgan Le Fay

And that night, New Year’s Eve, there was great feasting and rejoicing. Sir Gawain spoke and jested merrily with all around, and was careful to give his most special courtesies to Lady Bertilak. Everyone said that they had not seen the Knight in such good spirits since he came to the castle. Until, at last, it was time to take their leave, and for Sir Gawain to give his thanks for such a wonderful stay. Guest and and host hugged one another, and commended each other to Christ. And before he retired to bed, Bertilak appointed a servant to rise at first light and guide Sir Gawain on his way to the Green Chapel, to meet his destiny.

[sound of birds and open air]

Servant

My noble Sir. If you will grant me my release, I would come no further with you. The green chapel which my Lord commanded me to show you is just over that crag. Climb up and you shall see it. But if you care for your life, listen to what I suggest. Do not go on. There is a terrible creature who lives there, half man, half beast, the Knight of the Green Chapel they call him. He deals death to all who cross his path. No poor man, no priest, no lord has ever survived an encounter with him. Go further, and you go to your doom. Instead, if you have good sense, follow the track in the other direction. It will lead you far away from here. I will tell not a single soul that you departed from you dark plan. I give you my word. I will say to everyone who asks that you rode down freely to the Green Chapel.

Sir Gawain.

Thank you kindly for your well meaning wishes, but I have sworn an oath that I shall meet the Green Knight on this very morning, and by the five pointed star of my shield, I will not break with my word.

Servant

Then goodbye honoured sir. There are many in the castle, among the high born and the humble, among the noble and the fair, who greatly regret your resolve.

[play up a eery soundscape]

Sir Gawain

By Mary, this place is ugly, and over grown with weeds. It is a fitting place for a wild man in green to do honour to the devil. This is the chill chapel of ill-fortune. It is the most un-holly church I ever entered.

[Play up weird scything nose]

Why I believe that dread sound was made in my honour. Let God’s will be done. No noise shall frighten me.

Where be the master of this place ? It is I, Sir Gawain, come to keep my word !

The Green Knight

Gawain ! You are welcome to my abode. You have timed your visit as a true man should, quite in accord with the pact we made a year and a day ago. Remove your helmet and let us complete our exchange. I will return you the blow that I promised.

Sir Gawain

I shall stand still and let you strike. But make it a single stroke, for that is all that was sworn to.

Morgan Le Fay

And now the fate that I planned was being fulfilled. Sir Gawain inclined his head and showed the flesh on the back of his neck. Then the Green Knight lifted his grim weapon aloft, and swung as if he meant to deal him death. but Sir Gawain swayed sideways, and the blade landed in the green moss.

The Green Knight

is this Sir Gawain, famed for his courage? I think not. Would a true knight flinch before death? Did I so much as shiver when you struck my head from my shoulders in the court of King Arthur?

Sir Gawain

Sir. Strike again and I will not move an inch. Only hurry and get the dead done.

Morgan Le Fay

My green man lifted his axe and swung once again with all the might of his great body, but he stopped it just short of the neck of the knight. Sir Gawain stood perfectly still, true to his word.

The Green Knight

So you have found your courage. I stopped short so you could be hear my praise and be honoured as a true knight. But these words will be the last you shall hear for this time I will strike true.

Sir Gawain

So strike. The time for games is over.

The Green Knight

Since you are in such a hurry to depart this world. I will not detain you.

[sound effect of blade rushing through air]

Morgan Le Fay

My man swung, and his blade caught the flesh and drew Sir Gawain’s red blood from his veins. But the wound was not deep nor did any serious harm. Feeling the nick on his neck, Sir Gawain knew that his duty was done. He need stand still no longer. His sword was drawn in a trice.

Sir Gawain

You’ve had your swing by St. Mary. Our contract is complete. Now stand and fight in a contest that is fair.

The Green Knight

Hey gentle Knight, your anger is understandable, but there is no need for it. Had I wanted to kill you, believe me, the strike of my axe would have done for you. See now, I put down my weapon and lift my helmet from my head. And I think, you shall soon see a face that you know.

Sir Gawain.

Bertilak !

The Green Knight / Bertilak

I offered you one playful blow which did you no harm. This good I gave you in return for your truth, for on the first day of your trial, you freely and fairly delivered to me one kiss from my lovely wife. The second blow that missed you was also my gift, because on the second day of our bargain you truly surrendered two kisses from my wife. My third blow stung you, but did you great harm. I took this slight cut out of your flesh with justice, for you are wearing something that is mine: the green garter that my wife gave you, and which is now belted around your waist. This you should have surrendered to me, by the rules of our pact.

Sir Gawain

Oh by St. Mary I see now that I have sinned ! I loved my life too dearly and accepted this gift without telling you. I have failed my word. I have been disloyal to my host. I am no worthy knight.

The Green Knight

Do not be so harsh on yourself, Good Sir. I do not think there is another knight in the world who would have passed these tests with such honour. Three times you have proved yourself a true guest and a faithful knight. How many men, brave and unflinching in battle, are equally strong in the face womanly beauty? Not many, I say. And of those, how many so deftly and courteously weave their way through such a delicate trap. You are a man apart, I declare, the one true knight.

Sir Gawain.

No sir. I have failed. And for that I am truly sorry.

The Green Knight.

The standards you set for yourself are too high. Now return to my walls where you will be most welcome to stay a little longer.

Sir Gawain

No. I thank you. My quest is at an end. I must give you your green belt and be on my way.

The Green Knight.

Keep it. I give it freely. Remember me and my lady by it.

Sir Gawain

Thank you sir. May God be with you and your good wife. I will always wear this green garter to remind me of the day I fell short of my duty.

Morgan Le Fay

And now my test is at an end. What lesson shall we draw from this tale?

Sir Gawain returned to Camelot and related the result of his quest with great shame. The courtiers laughed to learn of how he was tricked, and thought it a good sport. And King Arthur , if he honoured his knightly nephew before, he honored him thrice as much now. He commanded that every Knight of the Round Table should wear a green garter from that time on, in remembrance of the noblest of their number, Sir Gawain.

And so shall we conclude that this noble knight behaved with shame, fun, or honour? And to return to my question, what is it that makes a man?

I now have my answer and I give it to you freely. This is the single word that sums up a man and makes him what he is:

Imperfection.

Download the audio to your computer (right click, save as)

Storynory presents an audio drama adapted from the famous medieval story.

It is almost New Year at the court of King Arthur. A strange visitor lays down a challenge which is taken up by Arthur’s nephew, Sir Gawain. A year later Sir Gawain sets out on a quest that proves a test to his honour as much as to his valour. Our story weaves between narration and voice parts and is probably Storynory’s most ambitious production to date. It might appeal to slightly older children (and perhaps to adults too ).

• Natasha Gostwick as Morgan Le Fay and Lady Bertilak
• Richard Scott as Sir Gawain and King Arthur
• Sam Freeman The Green Knight and Lord Bertilak

Many thanks to Jon Sayles for his site full of free recordings of early music which he plays so wonderfully on the classical guitar. Do fill up your iPod with Jon’s MP3s because there’s some lovely music here.

We also made use of some fabulous public domain Gregorian chants.

Adapted by Hugh Fraser for Storynory.

The first of Two Parts

Morgan Le Fay

The story that you are about to hear was all my doing. I wished, I willed it , I spelled it. So listen well little ones, for I am Morgan Le Fay – the sorceress no less – the queen of the Welsh Witches, and the enchanting enemy of King Arthur.

I worked out these wonders because my womanly heart demanded an answer to a question. What is it that makes a man? Is it valour in battle? Is it a tongue that speaks true? Or is it a way with words that sways the ladies? And what beasts must a true knight sleigh? Serpents that breath fire, or demons that whisper desire?

And so I sought a man to test. Not just any puny little man but the finest fellow who rode a horse since Felix Brutus left behind the flaming city of Troy, and founded the race of brawling, warring, strife-loving men that are known as the Britons. The most famous among the Britons is Arthur,` their king. But the noblest, the knight who perfectly combines courtesy and valor, whose every word, whose every gesture, is governed by the courtly code of chivalry, is not the King himself, but his nephew, Sir Gawain. He is the one. If he can not pass the test that I set, then no man can.
-

It is Christmas. Picture the splendid scene at Camelot Castle. The lords and ladies who gather at Arthur’s court are the best in the Kingdom. The men are handsome, the women are pretty. All are carefree and gay. They celebrate the festive season with games and jousting, dancing and carol singing. You can hear their noisy noels from ten miles away. For a full fifteen days they celebrate, until at last a shiny new year is about to be born. After Mass in the chapel. the noble lords hold up New Year gifts in their hands. The ladies play guessing games for the prizes, and laugh out loud even when they lose and have to forfeit a kiss.

Such were the scenes that led up to dinner time. As the feast began, King Arthur took his place on the high table. All around were noble knights and fair ladies, and Queen Guenevere sat in their midst. Silks shimmered and jewels sparkled, but the brightest gems were the queen’s shining eyes.

Trumpets and drums heralded the courses. I will not describe the sumptuous dishes that were laid before them, as you can well imagine that no one lacked anything. All I will note is that King Arthur sat still. He did not lift a morsel to his mouth. For it was his custom not to eat on such occasions until he had seen, or heard tell, of something wonderful. And that is when I sent my creature in.

My man rattled the door and came clattering into the hall on his horse. He was a giant, a man mountain, but although his shoulders and chest were as broad and square as battlements, his waist was boyishly slender. He was the biggest but also the most handsome of men. The gaze of every lord and lady was upon him. And what amazed them most was that every aspect of the man was bright green. His tunic and his fur-trimmed cloak were green. His leggings, the same. His hands were green. His face was green. His beard and long flowing hair was were as green as grass. His eyes were like emeralds. And his horse – yes you’ve guessed it – was a good shade of green. In one hand he held a sprig of green holly. In the other a monstrous, fearsome green axe. Its head was a yard wide. Yet he wore no armour, nor carried any other weapon.

The green axman rode into the hall, and headed for the high table. When at last he spoke, this is what he said:

The Green Knight

“Who is the Governor of this gang? I wish to set eyes on his face and speak with him.”

Morgan Le Fay

He cast his gaze on the knights, and looked them up and down, as he studied their faces, and considered who was the most renowned of them all.

And they looked back at him. And the longer they looked at him, the greener he seemed to grow. No one spoke a word. I would not put their silence down to fear, for here in the hall sat the bravest knights in all Christendom. Rather, let us say, it was courtesy that held down every tongue, until at last Arthur saluted the visitor and greeted him thus:

Arthur

Sir, you are welcome here. Please dismount from your horse, and join us at this feast.

The Green Knight

No, so help me, I do not invite myself to your table. I am no gate-crasher. And by the sign of this stick of holly, you may be sure that I come in peace. See, I wear civilian clothes. Had I war on my mind, I would have come differently dressed. At home I have a sharp spear and a shining helmet. But your fame and your love of thrill draws me here at this merry time of year. The greatest knights in all Christendom celebrate in this hall. All I ask is that one step forward, and join me in a game, a Christmas contest shall we say, a spot of sport.

Arthur

Sir courteous knight, if it is single combat that you seek, you will not fail to find a fight here.

The Green Knight

I tell you in good faith, I came to this court is search of some festive fun. It is the very season for games. If there is any lad here so bold in his heart, so thoughtless in his head, that he will trade me one blow for a blow, then I will give him this axe as a prize. It is great and heavy and he may do with it as he pleases. I shall grant his blade first strike against my bare neck . I shall stand here and not flinch. He may cut with all his force, but only once. If anyone will do me this favour, let him step forward. All I ask is a single strike on the same terms. There will be no rush to claim my right. I will wield my return cut, a year and a day from now. …. Come….. Such silence? Does anyone have anything to say?

Morgan Le Fay

If they were stunned before, they were more stunned now. The green knight twisted and turned in his saddle, and cast his emerald gaze on each and every face.

The Green Knight

What ? Is this Arthur’s house? Are these the knights about whom the whole world chatters? Where are the dragon-slaying, grail-seeking, maiden-saving, questing, besting, knights of the renowned round table? Can they be these boys who will not trade one little blow for another?

Arthur

By heaven, no one here is a afraid, merely baffled by your foolish request. Give me your axe by Mary, and I will grant you the cut that you desire.

Morgan Le Fay

The green knight that I had sent, stepped down from his horse and handed the axe to the king. He stood bare-necked, without the slightest quiver or shiver, and stroked his beard. Arthur swung the axe about, testing it for weight and balance. But before he was ready to deal the blow, there came a voice from the high table.

Sir Gawain

My worshipful lord. If you will, command me now to rise from this bench and to stand by you there. I do not think it right that you, my Lord, should take up this haughty challenge here in your hall. So many of the boldest men on earth sit here all around. I myself am the weakest, and my life counts the least. If I were not your nephew, no one would pay me any regard. To speak to the point: let us risk my neck, not yours.

Morgan Le Fay

The leading nobles gathered, and they all advised one and the same, that the crowned king should give Sir Gawain this game.

Sir Gawain

Let St. Mary be my witness. I, Sir Gawain, take this axe to strike one blow against the green neck of our guest according to his own wishes. And one year and a day from now I will accept a similar blow against myself, from none other than this same green knight.

The Green Knight

I thank you for this favour. I incline my head to you sir, and sweep aside my long flowing hair so you may take a better aim at my nape. Deal your single blow. You will not see me flinch.

[Sound effect of axe and uproar]

Sir Gawain

And now courteous guest, I have granted your strange wish. Your head is parted from your shoulders. You will not, I think be dealing any blow against me a year and a day from now, nor on any day,

Hey, but what in Heaven or Hell’s name is this? He, headless, stands quite still. Must I believe my eyes? He springs across the floor. His hands reach under the tables and among the diners’ feet. He picks up his head like a ball. He vaults back up onto his horse. And now the blubbery green lips move. He – it – speaks !

The Green Knight

By your honour, do not fail, Sir Gawain, and do not forget. Remember your oath before all these knights seated here. A year and a day from now, your quest is to find me. Be sure to ask for the Knight of the Green Chapel. Many men know me. Ask and you shall not fail to find. On New Year’s morning take your blow, as I have just taken mine. It is right and just. Come or be called a coward.

Morgan Le Fay

The hooves of his horse clatter out of the hall. The wild man in green is gone. Sir Gawain is speechless, though all those seated around the hall discuss the marvel they have just witnessed. The King takes Sir Gawain by the arm:

KIng Arthur

My noble nephew, hang your axe up on the wall above the the high table. In christmases to come, those who feast here will gaze up at it and remember your wondrous game. Eat and be merry. The year is young.

Fade up some music

Morgan Le Fay

The year turns hastily on, through lean lent, burning summer and mellow autumn. At last the calendar reaches All Saints Day, and Sir Gawain recalls his grim quest. He must set out and seek the blow against his own neck, according to the rules of the game. Little does he know that it was I, Morgan Le Fay, who devised the rules of this sport. And soon I shall see what stuff the man is made of. He says his final goodbyes to the famed knights and ladies of Camelot. Last, but not least, he kneels before Queen Guenevere.

Sir Gawain

Gracious queen, you honour me with your tears, but I cannot share your regrets for the life of your faithful knight. We must all submit to our fate.

Morgan Le Fay

Servants set out his armour on a silk carpet. He held up his spiked helmet and kissed it. He stepped into his grieves. His batman buckled him into his breastplate. Five men lifted him up onto his horse. Over his shoulder, he slung his shield on which was emblazoned, in gold, his five pointed symbol – the sign by which all knew him as the noble Sir Gawain.

Sir Gawain (softly)

Our Father who art in Heaven, I pray that the sacred star of my shield shall guide me and protect my honour. King Solomon devised this everlasting knot. Each point of the perfect pentangle reminds me of my duty. Lead me not into temptation with my five senses, Deliver me from sinning with the five fingers of my hand. Give me strength from the five wounds of your son, our Saviour. Let me find comfort in the five joys of St. Mary. And let me not waver from the five virtues of a true knight: generosity of heart, faith to words, purity of mind and body, courtesy to high and low, and sympathy for those who suffer.

Morgan Le Fay

As soon as he had spoken this prayer, he dug his golden spurs into the side of his steed, and its hooves sent sparks flying off the cobbles.

He wandered westwards, through dark forests, over high mountains, and across fast flowing rivers. On his way he met wild trolls and ogres, bulls, bears, dragons and all manner of abominable beasts. He dealt with them as a knight should, with his sword and lance when needs be. The rain, the sleet and the snow showed him no pity. His only company was Gryngelot, his horse. His only shelter was his armour. But all these sufferings were nothing to him. Still he quested on, until at last, on the eve of Christmas Day, he prayed to St. Mary , for a chapel where he could hear mass. He crossed himself three times as he came over the brow of the hill, and the turrets and battlements of a strong but handsome castle came into view. With hope in his heart, he spurred Gryngelot down the grassy slope to the deep moat and the end of the drawbridge.

Sir Gawain.

Good Porter ! Please, be my messenger. Go to the noble lord of this house. Tell him an errant knight is at his door, and humbly begs shelter.

Porter

I believe, by St. Peter, that you will find a welcome within these walls.

Morgan Le Fay

The porter was not a bad sort. He returned soon with company to help the guest down from his horse. As he stood in his resplendent armour, knights and squires came out of the halls and knelt before him on the cold ground.

Sir Gawain

Please, please, noble sirs. There is no need at all to kneel. I am a humble knight like yourselves, a follower of King Arthur and the Round Table. I come to your land on an errand. I must meet the one who goes by the name of the Knight of the Green Chapel.

Morgan Le Fay

As he spoke, the noble Lord of the castle stepped out. He was tall, broad and handsome, splendidly dressed in an ermine-lined cloak.

Bertilak

Gracious Sir Gawain. The five pointed star on your shield speaks your name. My own is rather less renowned – though it is known well enough around these parts. I am Bertilak. You are most welcome here. Treat everything that is mine as yours ! Do with it what you wish ! My paige boys will free you from your armour and bring you fine clothes. Then join us by the fire and warm your limbs.

[Fade up sound of fire and laughter and music]

Bertilak

My Lords, Ladies see I hold up my hood on my spear. I offer it as a prize to the one who makes us laugh the most this Christmas !

[music fades into bells ]

It is the midnight hour. The monks call us to mass.

[Sound of Chanting ]

Morgan Le Fay

Inside the chapel, Sir Gawain kneeled at the pew, and asked forgiveness for his sins that Christmas night. When he arose from his prayers, he noticed a lady who had joined the company of women. Although the others were fair, she was far fairer still. She was more beautiful than even queen Guenevere, so he thought. And leading her by the hand was another lady, though quite different to look at. The one lady was in the ripeness of youth, the other was old and dry. The one wore bright pearls around her white throat and over her soft breast. The other covered her eyes and hair with a veil, and wrapped herself in a cloak. The one had delicate dewy lips, the other’s were purple and swollen. But if the young lady commanded respect among those around her, the older received sill more.

Sir Gawain

Good ladies. I am Sir Gawain. Let me be your knight. Allow me to serve you.

Lady Bertilak.

You may serve us with the art of your conversation. It is not often we have the pleasure of such courteous company.

Bertilak.

My wife longs for the courtly manners of Camelot. Out here in the sticks we barely know how to hold a knife at the table !

Sir Gawain

Lady Bertilak, I will do all I can to keep you entertained, but do not over expect. I am, at bottom, a man of action not words.

Morgan Le Fay

They spent the Christmas days in laughter, song and feasting. Among the ladies, the oldest, of whom I have spoken, took the place of honour at the table. Lady Bertilak was often at the side of Sir Gawain. They exchanged many glances and many words, though all of them quite proper. She seemed to delight in his conversation. He in her company. In truth, she diverted him from dark thoughts of the blow that he must receive. She made him feel that that this short life, though often brutal, had been worth living.

[Fade up some music]

Sir Gawain

Dear hosts. The last time I rejoiced so much and so freely at Christmas was when I was a boy. I thank you for these delights. But now it is time for me to leave your welcoming roof and to pick up my quest. I have sworn to meet the Knight of the Green Chapel this New Year’s morning, and just three more days remain for me to seek my destiny.

Bertilak

Leave? I will not hear of it. The chapel of which you speak is a mere two miles from here. It makes no sense to leave us so soon. Rest in comfort for three more days and on New Year’s morning, my servant will guide you to the Chapel of the Green Knight.

Lady Bertilak

I would not blame you if you are in a rush to leave. I quite understand if our company bores you. We cannot compete with the ladies of Camelot for refined entertainment, although we do our best to amuse our guests. But Sir, for my sake, if you value me at all, please stay.

Sir Gawain.

When a lady puts it like that, how can a knight refuse? My debt to you both for your welcome, is now greater still. I am at your service. I will do whatever you ask.

Lady Bertilak

I will have to think of some little service you can perform.

Bertilak

Since you will do whatever I ask, here’s what I suggest. Let’s have a little festive fun. In the morning I will set out hunting before dawn. You shall remain here, rest your limbs, and find comfort and amusement within the walls of this castle. In the evening, when I return, I shall give you whatever I have caught while hunting. And if you have gained anything good during the day, you shall give that to me.

Sir Gawain

A simple exchange. I see no harm in that.

Bertilak

Exactly. Now do I have your word as a knight that, win or lose, you will swop straight and true?

Sir Gawain

By the Holy Pentangle on my shield, I swear.

Bertilak

Then let us drink to our bargain !

You have been listening to the first part of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight adapted from the Medieval text for Storynory by Hugh Fraser.
The parts of Morgan Le Fay and Lady Bertilak was played by Natasha Gostwick.
The parts of The Green Knight and Lord Bertilak was played by Sam Freeman
And the parts of Sir Gawain and King Arthur was played was played me, Richard Scott

The second and final part follows shortly. For many more free audio stories, please visit Storynory.com

Download the audio to your computer (right click, save as)

This charming medieval story shows that a true knight has more virtues than just courage. The hero, Sir Cleges, is generous, perhaps too generous. He celebrates Christmas in such style every year, that eventually he falls into poverty. When he is at his lowest ebb, cherries appear in his garden, even though it is snowy and out of season. His wife points him in the direction of the Court of King Uther, and he is on his way to restore his wealth.

For a detailed introduction see Teams Middle English Texts.

Read by Natasha. Version by Bertie. Duration 14.46

My Lords and Ladies, you shall hear of one who lived many generations ago, in the time of King Uther Pendragon, father of the famed King Arthur. I speak of a knight, hardy and strong, tall and fair, brave and noble. In all the world there lived no one as courteous, noble or generous as he. To land owners, who struggled in times of war, he gave gold. To poor farmers who rented lands from him, he gave food and good cheer. A spare place at his table was always laid just incase anyone might pay a visit on him.

This knight had a gentle wife, the best a man could wish for. No woman was more beautiful, or more noble in her heart than she. Dame Clarys was her name. Of goodness, she had truly. Together they brought gladness to many a soul. No man, rich or poor, felt any ill will against them.

Every year, Sir Cleges – for that was the name of this noble knight – would hold a feast at Christmas time. No king celebrated that day in greater style than he. Rich and poor came to his feast. He would turn away no man. Friars payed him with blessings, minstrels with music – those were the highest prices he would ask for his food. And when the feasting was over, the guests would not leave without gifts. He gave freely of robes, horses, silver and even gold. All this he did in honour of Him who was born in a manger on that day.

But his wealth dwindled with each passing year. He would not give up his feasting or his gifts. He let, mortgaged, even sold his lands to pay for his generosity, until at last he had almost nothing left. The Christmas feasting had to end. He lived meekly with his good wife and two children – and of luxuries, they knew no more.

One Christmas Eve, Sir Cleges was walking up and down in his garden, when he heard the sound of trumpets, pipes, drums, harps and cymbals. He could hear carols and dancing. The sound of merriment brought back memories of his past feasts and festivities. He knew well that the music came from the court of King Urther, who was as Cardiff for Christmas. But the King had not invited his loyal knight to join his table for the festivities. . He had either forgotten him, or thought that he was dead. Sir Cleges wrung his hands began to pray piteously:

“Oh Jesus, heavenly king, you made everything out of nothing. I thank you for times past, for the the merriment I used to make . I gave freely for your sake. I fed both rich and poor. Those who dined at my table did not lack for any meat or game, or good drinks. Of the cost I thought nothing. And now, here I stand, a poor man at your service, overlooked and forgotten by all mortal men, high and low.”

As he stood mourning so, his wife came to him, and enfolded him in her arms. She kissed him with glad heart and said,

“My true husband, I heard what you were saying. It does not help to have sad thoughts. So let your sorrow be gone. Every one should be happy on this day, and be glad with what they have got. So let us go inside, and be merry and eat our dinner joyfully. “

“Of course,” said Sir Cleges. And with somewhat better cheer he quickly wiped the tear from his cheek and went inside to eat his food. After they had eaten, they took great delight in playing with their two children. And at midnight they went to church and asked God to keep them clothed and fed.

On Christmas morning, Sir Cleges went into his garden. He kneeled on the snow covered ground before his favourite cherry tree, and prayed once again. When he had finished, he reached up for a branch to help him stand. As he arose, the bough broke in his hand. He noticed that it bore green leaves, and that there were ripe, round cherries clustered around it.

He said:

“Dear God. What manner of berries are these that grow at this time of year? And then he picked a cherry and tried it. It was the most delicious fruit he had tasted since he was a small boy. He cut off a little branch and took it to his wife to show her.

“My dear, here is a novelty,” he said. “I found these growing in our garden. Cherries in mid winter. I am afraid it is some ill omen, a warning to me for my sorrow and grieving. “

“Why no,” said his wife, “Rather it is a sign that goodness is coming to us. Tomorrow at first light, take the cherries to Cardiff and the King. He will have no better gift than this. “

When it was daylight, she prepared a large basket full of cherries. She told their eldest son to carry it on his back, and walk behind his father to Cardiff. And so they set off, not on a stead or pony, but Sir Cleges’ walking stick was his only support.

When they arrived at the gates of the castle, the porter saw his poor clothing and said :

“You shall turn around and leave smartly without delay, or by God and St. Mary, I shall break your head. Go and stand in the beggars’ row. That’s the place for you.”

But Sir Cleges said:

“Good Sir. I pray you, let me go in. I have a present for the king. Here look.”

And the porter went over to the basket and lifted the lid. When he saw the cherries he marveled and said:

“If I let you pass, you must promise me a third of whatever reward the king shall grant you for this gift, be it silver or gold.”

And Sir Cleges replied : “I consent” and he went through the gate into the castle On his way to the banqueting hall he met an usher of the court who said:

“Go, vassal, get out of my sight, and if I find you again within these walls I shall beat your head and your limbs without a moment’s regret.”

At this, Sir Cleges said:

“Good Sir. Stay your anger. Be gentle and good. For I have brought a present for the king. See here, these fruits grew this christmas season in my garden. They are the fairest cherries that ever man did see.”

And when the usher saw the cherries, he was amazed and said: “If you grant me a third part of what ever you may win for these, then you may indeed go on.”

And as Sir Cleges had no other choice, he agreed to the usher’s terms, and into the hall he went with his son and the basket.

As they entered the Hall, the Steward saw them. He went up to Sir Cleges and said:

“Who made you so bold as to come in here uninvited? Turn around smartly and get out.”

And Sir Cleges replied : “See, good sir, I have a gift for the king.” And when the Steward saw what he had brought he exclaimed:

“By Mary I never saw such fruits at this time of year. You shall go before the king, but only if you promise me a third part of whatever you shall receive.”

Sir Cleges stood and thought to himself that betwixt these three men, he would divide all that he received. For all his trouble he would win nothing. As he did not reply right away, the Steward demanded:

“Have you no tongue? Give me your answer without delay or I shall beat your rags with my stick!”

And seeing that he had no other choice, Sir Cleges said: “Very well, whatever the king shall reward, you shall have a third part.”

The steward brought Sir Cleges before the king, where he knelt and uncovered the basket:

“Great King,” he said. “These fruits grew in my garden this christmas time, and I have brought them to you as a gift. “

The king saw the cherries, fresh and new, and said: “Truly this is the work of our Lord.” And he commanded Sir Cleges to sit down and join the feast. The king sent a portion of the cherries to a radiant and fair lady in Cornwall, and he commanded the rest to be served around the hall. When all had eaten and were glad, he king commanded:

“Bring before me the poor man who gave me the cherries.” And Sir Cleges knelt again before the king. And the kind said:

“I thank you heartily for the gift you have brought me. It has honoured my feast. Whatever you will have, I will grant you. Whatever your heart desires, be it lands, or surfs or goods.”

And Sir Cleges replied.

“Great King. I ask nothing but 12 strokes of my stick that I might give freely to my enemies around this castle.”

On hearing this the King was angry and said. “I am sorry that I granted you this gift. Better that you asked for silver or gold, for you have more need of it. Nevertheless, if that is your wish, let my debt to you be paid with blows.”

And Sir Cleges went into the hall and sought the steward to give him his reward. He dealt him such a blow that he knocked him down. And then he gave him three more. On leaving the hall he found the usher and told him: “Here’s the third part of my gift that I promised you!” and he beat him four times with his stick. And then he found the porter and gave him his reward with the words. “I keep bargain. Take this, and this, and this and this!”

And while Sir Cleges was busy paying back his enemies, the king sat in his chamber and listened to a minstrel. The minstrel sang of a great knight who had served him in years past, one who was full of fortune, nobility and grace. His name was Sir Cleges. And as the king listened, memories came back to him, and he realised that he had seen the good knight that very evening.”

“Why, was that not him who knelt before me in the hall? “ exclaimed the king.

“Sire, indeed it was,” replied the minstrel.

When word reached the lords and ladies of the court of how Sir Cleges had paid back the porter, the usher and the steward, they all laughed heartily and thought that it was good sport.

The king called Sir Cleges before him, and this time he gave him lands, and forests, and a cup of gold to take to his wife. He made his son a squire and gave him fine clothes to wear.

Every year after that, Sir Cleges and his wife celebrated Christmas with good food, music, merriment and gifts, and they lived in great happiness until the Lord sent for them.

Text copyright Hugh Fraser (for Storynory) 2009.

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This is our most ambitious story about the “Wicked Uncle” – Uncle Jeff. Of course he’s not really wicked, merely irresponsible, and somewhat annoying to mum and dad. But the kids love him.

This story refers back to our summer story, “The Wicked Uncle by the Sea” when Uncle Jeff and the kids climbed aboard the yacht of a Russian billionaire and were held captive by the crew. By way of apology the billionaire now offers the family the trip of the life time – a holiday aboard his new space hotel.

We’ve mixed in some educational space background about space travel. For example, we mention Yuri Gagarin, the first man in space, and we explain about the astronauts have to endure g-force as the rocket takes off.

Several real-life companies are promising holidays in space and there are even plans to build a space hotel. Our description of the hotel and the robot butler is fantasy though. Needless to say none of the characters or businesses mentioned in the story have anything to do with real life ones.

The main aim of this story is try and convey some of the wonder of being in space and looking back at the earth, and the marvel of creation and life which is so much part of Christmas.

Read by Natasha. Story by Bertie. Duration 32.47

It was November. Every shop window glittered with christmas lights, inflatable Santas, christmas trees, tinsel and glitz.

“Oh no, “ said mum as she pushed the trolly round the supermarket, “I’m bored with Christmas already. I’m simply not going to order a turkey this year. We’ll just have to get away for the holidays- as far away as we possibly can.”

But she could not quite work out how to win over Dad and and the kids to her get-away-plan, because she knew just how much they loved every detail of Christmas at home, right down to the last bad joke in the crackers.

She was still brooding over the problem that evening when the phone rang. It was uncle Jeff. She held the receiver about six inches from her ear because his voice was loud and grating.

“Have I Christmas sorted for you and the kids this year, “ he announced, “It’s a surprise that’s, well, out of this world. That’s the only way to put it. “

“LIke an all inclusive luxury hotel in the Maldives out-of -this-world?” asked mum hopefully,

“Not a bad guess. It is a Christmas-get-away. But it’s less boring than a beach,” replied Jeff. In fact the news was so exciting that he had to come round and break it to the family in person.

An hour later ,the wheels of Jeff’s Porsche crunched onto the drive. Mum felt a certain amount of dread as she wondered what his Christmas surprise would be. She imagined all the dangerous and irresponsible treats that he might, in his bachelor delusion, believe to be suitable for a family holiday: Big Game Hunting? Scuba Diving with Great White Sharks? Jumping out of helicopters with skis?

She watched her husband grimace as Jeff slapped him on the back and asked “How’s tricks my older bro?”

The kids were supposed to be in bed, but both were sitting in their pajamas at the top of the stairs.

“Hi Uncle Jeff ! “ they chorused. And he gave them a wink and replied, “No listening in now, because what I’m going to say is so exciting that if you hear it, you won’t be able to sleep.”

So of course they both did listen at the living room door while Jeff unveiled his surprise to Mum and Dad.

“I bet,” said Jeremy, “That he knows a rock star or some mega famous actor who’s invited us to stay in a mansion. ”

“I’m not so sure about that, “ said Jemima. “I think Jeff knows business people mainly. Mum says he drives around in sports cars because most of his life is really rather boring.”

And when they both reapplied their ears to the door they heard that Uncle Jeff was indeed talking about a business person, but not a boring one:

“Back in the summer, when you came to stay at my place by the sea, there was a big yacht in the harbour belonging to a mega-rich Russian. Me and the kids ran into him by chance, and there was a little, shall we say, unpleasantness with his staff, for which he was incredibly sorry. And by way of apology, he wants the family – that’s you and the kids – to be the first to try out his life-changing – first of its kind, new frontier -travel service, all absolutely free, gratis, on the house. It will be the holiday of a lifetime.”

“And what sort of holiday would that be?” asked Dad.

“The name of the company is a bit of a giveaway. It’s called ‘Holidays in Space’”.

“I don’t get it,” said Mum.

Well,” said Uncle Jeff. “It does what it says in the tin. Here’s some literature.”

And he handed them some brochures.

“I still don’t get it,” said mum. “What do all these pictures of space rockets mean?”

“Duh ! “ exclaimed Jeremy outside the door. “It’s pretty obvious isn’t it? We’re going to spend Christmas in space, courtesy of Uncle Jeff and his Russian billionaire friend. “

“Don’t be silly and keep your voice down,” hissed back his sister. The could hear that
mum was saying, “Oh no ! Oh no!. Oh no!”

And Jeremy pushed the door open and came flying into the room saying “Yes, yes yes ! Thank you uncle Jeff ! That’s the most incredible idea ever!”

And Jemima was saying “Not me. You won’t catch me going up in rocket propelled bucket!”

Dad just sat looking amazed. Mum was pleading with him. “Explain to your brother why his idea is completely no-can-do, not-on-your-life.”

But Dad got up and hugged his brother.

“You see,” he said, “When we were both growing up, we both wanted to be astronauts. And now Jeff has made it possible. That’s so incredibly kind of him. Of course we must accept. Don’t you see? This is an amazing opportunity for the kids. It will change their whole view of the world. You wouldn’t want them to grow up saying that they had a chance to go into space, but their parents passed it by?“

And when mum thought about it, she realised that she wouldn’t want her children saying a thing like that.

As soon as the school term finished, the family flew to Russia to begin training for their Christmas holiday. Three and a half hours after leaving London, they landed at Moscow airport. As they came through passport control , surly looking men in leather jackets called out “taxi! taxi!”.

“Nyet, Nyet,” said Mum. It was the only Russian she knew. It means “No.”

“There’s our guide,” said Dad. And he tugged his suitcase on wheels in the direction of a tall blond lady who was holding up a sign that said:

“HOLIDAYS IN SPACE”.

A car picked them up outside airport and drove them along the ring road around Moscow. They looked out at the landscape of snow covered fields, silver birch trees, high-rised flats and signs in unfamiliar Russian letters – and quite frankly they felt that they were already out of this world.

Finally they checked into their hotel inside Star City, the training centre for all the Russian cosmonauts, as well as for space tourists like themselves. The rooms were rather small and poky, and Dad said it was part of the training, to get used to the cramped conditions of the space craft..

A little later, the family went downstairs to meet Uncle Jeff who had been in Moscow for a few days already : “Hey Kids. Welcome to Space City. Have you seen Yuri Gagarin yet?”

“Who’s he?” asked Jeremy.

“Why he’s my hero. The first man in space of course,” said Jeff. “Get you gloves and hats on, and we’ll go and pay homage. He’s just across the square. “

Yuri Gagarin was in fact a statue on the steps of the space museum – - a sliver man flying through a hoop, more like a circus acrobat than a cosmonaut.

As uncle Jeff explained, the real Yuri Gagarin had died when he crashed his Mig fighter jet. “But he got into space first, in 1961, ahead of the Americans,” he added.

“But the Americans got to the moon first,” said Jeremy.

“That’s true, I well remember watching the Apollo moon mission on a dim television screen when we were boys. The rocket standing on the launch pad in Cape Canaveral. Mission control counting down. And then a blast of fire. Lift off from 0 to 28,000 kilometers per hour, why that’s a bigger rush than my motorcycle can do! Ever since then, I’ve dreamed of trip through space.”

“And now your dream is coming true Uncle Jeff” said Jemima.

“Uh-uh. No room for me. It’s going to be squish getting you four inside the space shuttle,”

And the kids realised just how generous Uncle Jeff had been to give up his chance of fulfilling his boyhood dream for them. Mum would have gladly given him her place in space, but she knew she would be more worried waiting on the ground than if she was actually in orbit with the family.

We’re going to be the first family in space.. It will be like, historic.” said Jeremy.

“And great publicity for the travel company,” said Dad.

“Providing we all get back safely,” added mum.

In the morning, things started to get even more real when they met their space instructor, a former Cosmonaut called Timor who had spent six months living in the International Space Station which orbits the earth. He told the kids:

“When I was in space, I missed my family. There was nothing else on Earth that I felt the need for. So you are very fortunate to be going up with your mom and dad.”

Jemima hugged her mother and said how wonderful it was to be going into space together. Jeremy shuffled his feet.

Timor took them to the quartermaster to try on their space suits for the first time. All the suits had “Holidays in Space” written across the chests and helmets. Jeremy had a blue helmet and Jemima had a pink one, Dad had an extra large helmet, and mum had a neat white one.

Uncle Jeff joined them for their training too – just to so he could get a taste of what space travel would be like. He brought his own space helmet which he had ordered especially from NASA, the American space agency. It bore the inscription:

Buzz Lightyear. Space Ranger.

Mum said it only went to show that Uncle Jeff hadn’t grown up.

Their first space lesson was fun. It involved picking up toothbrushes while wearing big fat gloves, and sticking things to walls with velcro, because in space everything would be floating around. Then they learned to operate the space toilet, which was a cross between a seat and a vacuum cleaner and had lots of different colored buttons.

The next day things started to get tough. The hardest part of space travel is enduring the enormously powerful gravitational force – or g-force – when you pass out of, and then back into, the Earth’s Atmosphere. This force feels a bit like being on the biggest, fastest, scariest, and most sick-making fair ground ride – and so space training is a bit like going to the fun fair – only a lot worse.

They met Timor in a large empty room next to the gymnasium.

“Jeremy. Please sit on this chair and fasten the seat belt nice and tight,” said Timor. Jeremy did as he was told. The chair wasn’t particularly conformable. He wondered what was going to happen. Was he about to drop through a trap door? Or shoot up through the ceiling at vast speed? No. Wrong on both counts. He started to spin round, fast at first, and then even faster, then even faster. It would have been fine, only he felt that his stomach and his head were both traveling at different speeds in different directions. He wished he had not eaten pancakes and honey for breakfast. ‘STOP !” he shouted. He span round a few dozen more times, but now more and slowly, thankfully.

“Well done. You lasted 96 seconds before begging for mercy. Not bad. “ said Timor.

Jeremy felt too sick to make any comment.

And then Jemima, Mum and Dad all had a go. Mum lasted the longest – two and half minutes – perhaps that was because she had eaten the least breakfast.

Over the next couple of weeks, they did a lot of whizzing around in circles . And trained inside a giant water tank, to get used to floating, because that’s what what you do in space.

At the end of their training, Timor presented each member of the family with a certificate that said.

Diploma of Moscow International Academy of Space Tourism.
Space Tourist. First Class.

And the next day they flew to the desert of Kazakhstan which, although it is a long way south of Moscow, is still cold and snowy in winter.

Jeremy and Jemima looked out of their hotel window towards the brand new space shuttle that stood on the launch pad pointing straight up to the gray clouds. It was the first of its kind, the jumbo-jet of space craft, especially designed to carry tourists out of the world’s atmosphere. The words “Holidays in Space” were written in English and Russian letters down its sides.

Jemima said. “I wish they hadn’t given us a room overlooking that thing. It makes me want to go home,”

And Jeremy said:

“I’m scared too. But we’ve got no choice. Dad’s determined to go.”

Upstairs Mum and Dad were also looking out of the window towards the shuttle. Dad was saying:

“It’s funny. I dreamed of this all my life. And now I see that space craft on the runway, I’m wondering, should I be taking this risk with kids?”

And Mum said:

“We can’t pull out now. It would be too embarrassing.”

And on the top floor , Jeff was looking out at the space ship, and saying to himself.

“Oh, oh my…. I hope that contraption is space-worthy and totally safe. If anything happens to them, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Just after dawn, a battered old bus took the family over the slushy runway to the shuttle. They wore their space suits and carried their helmets under their arms. Underneath their spacesuits they wore wooly vests and long johns, because it’s cold in space. And underneath those, they wore special diapers or nappies for space travelers because – well I won’t explain that – but let’s just say they had a long flight ahead before they reached the space hotel.

Uncle Jeff was waiting for them next to the steps up into the shuttle. He hugged each of his relatives in turn, giving his brother the last and longest hug:

“Hey kiddo,” he said. “May the force be with you !”

Sergei, the space travel tycoon, was there too. They all got a kiss on both cheeks from the billionaire. Apparently that was a Russian tradition.

The three crew members were the first to climb up the the ladder to the door of the space craft, and the the family followed. Jemima was last up, and she turned and waved to the television cameras and gave them a happy mile.

Inside, the the space tourists lay down on their seats with their knees bent towards them, as they had been taught. The illuminated signs above their positions read;

“Fasten Seat Belts. Switch off Mobile Phones. No smoking.”

They slotted their safety buckles into place.

Jeremy looked at Jemima, and Jemima looked at Jeremy. Inside their helmets they could hear the chattering of voices from Mission Control, but they couldn’t understand a word because it was all in Russian. Jeremy and Jemima could talk to each other over the radio, but they had to compete with the background babble which was quite confusing. Jeremy said:

“Jeremy to Jemima. Thanks for being a good sister. I mean, if this space- doohickey blows up or something, I want you to know that you were okay really. “

“Jemima to Jeremy,” replied his sister. “It’s not going to blow up. But thanks for being a good brother – most of the time.”

The Countdown was in Russian and English.

At the end of the countdown there was stillness. The chattering in their ears ceased. It was like the whole world had stopped turning.

And then the rocket blasters pushed off. They were traveling at five miles a second straight up. They all felt their stomachs go heave-ho. “I’m not going to be sick, I”m not going to be sick,” said Jeremy. And he was glad that he hadn’t eaten pancakes for breakfast.

The ship shook and shuddered so much that Jeremy could hear his bones rattling – in fact the Wright brothers probably enjoyed a smoother flight when they took off in the first airplane in 1903.

The view through the window turned gray with cloud but soon the view became blue, then purple, and at last black. It had taken them six minutes to reach space.

The rockets stopped firing. The ship stopped shaking. There was silence. A deep, awesome, silence.

Jeremy was the first to see that the seatbelt sign had been turned off. He pressed the red button to release himself, and he cart-wheeled out of his seat. He flew straight into the wall, but it didn’t matter because it was covered with soft padding.

Dad followed him. They were both floating in total weightlessness. And then the oxygen sign came on which meant they could take their helmets off.

“Wow this amazing” exclaimed Jeremy as Jemima shot past him, flaying her arms around like a baby sea gull learning to fly.

Mum was floating on her back like she was resting on the warm calm sea that she had dreamed of for her holiday.

“I think”, said Mum, “That a baby must feel like this insider the mother’s womb.”

The most remarkable part was yet to come. “Hey look at this! “ called Jemima. She was pressing her face against one of the portholes.

She was looking at the top of the world. A translucent blue curve. And beyond it, all infinity. They were all quiet, lost for words, until Jeremy said:

“Hey, Look there’s Santa,” ..

“Where?” asked Jemima.

“…… Caught you…. just kidding.”

And then they were silent again for a while, until Dad said:

“You wouldn’t think there were any problems down there. Like Mr. Jones is late for work and Johnny’s stuck on his home work,”

And the whole family knew that they would always have a special bond. Not just because they were family, but because they had shared experience this together, and had seen Planet Earth from the outside, and felt the harmony of the universe.

The journey took another two days before they caught up with the space hotel in its orbit around earth. Their shuttle docked with the larger ship on Christmas Eve. The family floated into their hotel through connecting hatches. There was music playing in the reception area. It was Jingle Bells.

The butler was a robot called Fred who wore a Santa Clause hat. He introduced them to the luxuries of their new home. Their floating sleeping bags were more comfortable than the best mattresses, and they would sleep like birds on the wing. The water in the shower floated upwards. The space toilet was a slightly different model from the one which they had trained on, but if they got confused they could consult the instruction manual. The refrigerator had every type of drink, but it didn’t matter if they wanted water or champaign, they still had to drink it through a straw. They should use the rowing machine every day, because your muscles can go flabby in space if you aren’t careful. For a special relaxation, the butler could give them a foot massage, or they could climb into the aromatherapy capsule. They could use the free wifi to check their emails, cruise the net or even to watch TV.

But actually, the coolest thing you could do was to look out of the big window to stare into infinite space. Dad asked Fred to move the Christmas tree because it was blocking part of the view.

For christmas lunch, they strapped themselves to the table so that the wouldn’t float up to the ceiling Fred brought round the Turkey sandwiches and the Christmas pudding. They pulled Christmas crackers and read jokes like:

I only work when I’m fired, what am I?

A rocket.

And

What kind of astronaut can jump higher than a house?

Any kind. A house can’t jump.

And they laughed even more than they would have done at home.

And then they went up to the bridge to look out at the blue planet called Earth.

“Isn’t it just like a new born baby?” said Mum. “It’s so beautiful, so perfect, so fragile. It’s a
miracle.”

And Dad said : “Happy Christmas Darling” and he kissed Mum.

And Jemima said:

“I wish we could take something back for Uncle Jeff. Like a piece of moon rock or something.”

And they all remembered how their Wicked Uncle had given them this amazing Christmas present, and mum admitted:

“For the first time ever, I”m truly sorry that Jeff isn’t with us. It was so kind of him to give up his place on the shuttle for us.”

Their watches were still set to Greenwich Mean Time. Dad noticed that it was almost three o’ clock in London.

“Come on he,” said. “We can’t miss the Queen just because we’re 280 miles above the Buckingham Palace. Let’s fire up the internet.”

A few minutes later, they were all gathered around a screen watching the Queen , just as they watched her at home every Christmas Day.

Her Majesty wore reading spectacles and said: “At this time of peace and goodwill, our thoughts turn to children all over the world”

“Hey, and don’t forget us kids up here in space !” said Jeremy.

When the Queen had finished her Christmas message, Dad wanted to take take “a quick snoop at headlines”. And he picked up the keyboard and switched the screen over to Google News.

“I wouldn’t bother. Nothing ever happens at Christmas,” advised Mum.

“You’re right,” said Dad, “It all looks reassuringly boring down there…. but that’s funny. There’s a news story here that says “Family Stuck in Space”…. Is there another family up here?”

“Here let me see that,” exclaimed mum in a panicky voice.

The news story – and the 4032 other similar stories on Google News – was about the Crusoe family from Walton Upon Thames, England. There was only one Crusoe family in orbit around the Earth that Christmas. And they were that family. Mum read on.

The Crusoe Family may be spending rather longer in space than they bargained for. The shuttle that was due to bring them back to Earth has failed safety tests. Inspectors from the International Federation for space Travel declared it unsafe to fly after a cleaner noticed that a vital life support system had been fastened to the outside of the craft with masking tape. A spokesman for the Russian Travel company, Holidays in Space, said

“The Crusoes have enough dried food, water and oxygen to last them another year in orbit. Even if they are celebrating next year’s Christmas in space, they will be ok.”

Mr. Crusoe’s brother, Jeff Crusoe, who is currently in Moscow, said:

“I am working night and day to get the family back down on Earth where they belong.”

When she had finished reading the article Mum said:

“I should have trusted my first instinct. As soon as Jeff said he had got Christmas “sorted” I felt something terrible was going to happen. But I allowed your brother to sweet talk me into this insane space escapade.”

Dad didn’t say anything. He just stared at the Earth and wondered if they would ever see their house in Walton upon Thames close up again.

“Next Christmas….” said Jeremy, “That seems like an awfully long time before we get back home”.

“If we ever get down at all ,” said Jemima, who looked more shocked than any of them.

Mum inspected the larder. She found powdered strawberry moose, powdered milk, powdered chicken broth, powdered lamb curry, and powdered just about any food you could think of.

“It’s back to the 1970s,” said Dad. “That’s what Jeff and I lived on when we were growing up.”

“Don’t talk to me about Jeff,” said Mum.

The week between Christmas and New year passed quietly. Jemima drew maps of the constellations. Jeremy played computer games. Dad practiced virtual reality golf swings, and Mum read War and Peace, which she had always wanted to do, but had never found the time. In fact it would have been a deeply relaxing holiday – if it wasn’t for the fact that they all knew that they were Stuck in Space.

The news did not improve.

“Holiday Space Company Tottering on the Brink…” read Dad on the internet. The millionaires who had booked holidays in the space hotel were canceling one after the other. The company was in danger of going bankrupt. And if that happened, the Crusoe Family might be stuck in space FOR EVER!”

”Like, we’ll just go round the Earth until the End of Time….?” asked Jemima.

“We’ll have to get down to Earth sooner than that ,” said Mum. “Because I’ve sworn a solemn oath to smack your Uncle Jeff around the chops. What was he thinking of, sending us up here? He’s the most irresponsible uncle in the entire world, sorry, in the entire universe “ she said with a gesture towards the universe itself, stretched out just beyond the window.

And then she froze. “Oh my…” she said… “Oh my stars. I’m hallucinating. Or can you see what I can see….”

“I think I can,” said Jeremy.

“Well if you can see Uncle Jeff taking a space walk just outside our window, then your having the same hallucination that I’m having,” said Mum.

“I think we are,” said Dad.

Fifteen minutes later they heard a metallic clunk as the space shuttled docked with the hotel. First Uncle Jeff, and then Sergei, the owner of the travel company, floated into the reception area. Fred the Robot Butler said:

“Welcome to the Space Hotel. The management of Holidays in Space wishes you a happy and comfortable stay .:

“Hey kids, how do you like it up here?” boomed Uncle Jeff.

“Wicked,” said Jeremy. “But it would be nice to get down some time.”

“And very soon you shall,” said Jeff.

An hour later the family were strapped into their seats in the space shuttle The decent
to the desert of Kazakhstan took just thirty minutes, but the inside of the shuttle was as hot as sauna on the way down. They landed on the runway with two or three bumps, but no real trouble.

When they climbed down the ladder onto the tarmac, Jeremy looked up at the sky and said:

“Uncle Jeff’s up there somewhere.”

“Yes,” said Jemima. “He got his space trip after all”

You see, after all the millionaires cancelled their Holidays in Space, the only people confident enough to fly in the shuttle were Sergei and Uncle Jeff. According to Sergei, there was nothing much wrong with the shuttle from the safety point of view. It just needed some routine maintenance after its first trip. The story about the masking tape had been spread by a rival company and wasn’t true at all. But the only way to prove that it was true was to make the trip himself. And the only other person who had enough faith to go with him, was Uncle Jeff. And in one week’s time, the shuttle would return to pick them up again and bring them back to Earth.

And that’s the story of how Jeremy and Jemima, Mum and Dad, and Uncle Jeff spent their Christmas Holiday in space.

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We present the classic story with music by Tchaikovsky from his famous ballet.

Clara and Fritz have a very special godfather who makes inventions out of clockwork  (or perhaps they are magical) and his Christmas presents are always amazing and wonderful.  This year he gives them something rather small and simple -  a nutcracker-doll in the form of a soldier.  It’s rather ugly, and soon it is broken, but Clara loves it all the same. And then it comes to life and proves himself to be a true hero.

The original book in German, “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” was by ETA Hoffmann, who wrote it in 1816.   This is our own Storynory adaptation, with music and magic.

Read by Natasha.   Duration 28 minutes.

It was the night before Christmas.  Clarla and Fritz were sitting  by the door of the kitchen.  Their cheeks were red after throwing snowballs outside in the cold air.   Their eyes shone brighter than the candles on the Christmas tree.  They were chattering very excitedly about something.

And what were two children so excited about on Christmas Eve? You don’t have to be a genius to guess the answer to that question.  For they were talking about -

Presents.

And the presents for Clara and Fritz were wrapped up and waiting for them  on the kitchen table, just on the other side of the door.  But the children were forbidden to go through the door until it was time.  Time for presents.  And as they couldn’t see the presents, they talked about them instead.

“I bet, ” said Fritz, “That this year, Godfather Drosselmeyer has made a two entire armies of clockwork soldiers – thousands and thousands of them -  Cavalry, and infantry, and artillery – and they’ll go to war with each other and fire cannons and guns like this  BAAAMMMMM !  It is will be just like a Real Battle !”

“Oh NO! ” said Clara.  “I do hope he’s made something more pretty than that.  I think he’s made a toy theatre, with an orchestra that plays, and ballerinas  who look like swans and dance on their tip-toes. In fact, Godfather Drosselmeyer has told me himself that he had been to see the Russian dancers – and that they were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen – and that’s why I think he’s making a magic theatre for us.”

“You’re such a silly nincompoop sometimes,” said Fritz.  “Godfather Drosselmeyer doesn’t do magic.  He makes clockwork that you can wind up.”

“Oh yes he does do magic,” said Clara.  “And in any case, you’re the silly nincompoop – so there.”

And  the children chattered on, until at last the door bell rang to announce that Godfather Drosselmeyer himself had arrived at the house. The children rushed to meet him in the hall.

“Oh Godfather  do please come into the kitchen so we can open our presents,” begged Clara.

He was a funny-looking man, who wore a wig that sometimes slid half off his head.  He had a faint mustache that had never grown very bushy, and his left eye was usually half closed.  His hands and fingers were very tiny, but he was ever so-clever with them – for Fritz was right; Godfather Drosselmeyer was a watch and clock maker and one of the cleverest who ever lived.  But then perhaps Clara was right too.  Maybe, just maybe he also could do a little magic.  But in any case, his presents were always amazing and wonderful.

It took a while to gather the whole family including parents, children, aunts, uncles and godparents.  But at last it was time to open the presents. Sweets, dolls,and tin-soldiers all  emerged out of the wrapping, and even a Sultan’s palace beautifully carved and painted.  They were exciting, lovely presents – and  at last they were all opened – except that they hadn’t yet found a gift from Godfather Drosselmeyer.   Clara understood that he was keeping back an extra special surprise for them, but Fritz thought that their godfather such a strange man, that perhaps he had forgotten all about Christmas this year.  Both children were too polite to ask – but Clara gave her Godfather a gift of her own – a picture of a sugar-plum fairy that she painted herself. The old man was clearly delighted with it,  he said.

“And what have I got for dear Clara and Fritz this year?  Ah yes, I remember now. It’s here in my waistcoat pocket.”

And he pulled out a very small present – no longer than his hand.  “Which one of you two wants to open it this year?”

Fritz saw how small the present was and said : “Let Clara open it.  She’s so excited about it because she’s still a baby.”

And Clara took the present and felt it.    Yes here was its head – a little on the large size,   and here were its legs. She smiled and said:

“It’s a doll.   I bet it dances.”

And she carefully unwrapped it.

But it wasn’t just a doll.   It was nutcracker – painted to look like a soldier.  The handles were legs, in bright red trousers, and with feet in shiny boots,  and the part where you put the nuts to crack them looked like an oversized head with giant jaws. On top of its head it wore a tall fury hat.  To tell you the truth, it was rather ugly.

“Why thank you,” said Clara.

“You’re not disappointed are you?” asked Godfather Drosselmeyer.

“No,” she said. “I love the nutcracker-soldier because he’s funny.” And she gave her godfather a hug and a kiss.

But Fritz did not like the nutcracker-soldier at all.  He thought it was useless. Well almost, you could use it to crack nuts – and after dinner that’s what they did.  Clara and Fritz sat under the Christmas tree and cracked walnuts in the mouth of the soldier.

Clara wasn’t quite strong enough to break the shells, but Fritz found it easy.  Until he tried to break open an extra hard nut.  He squeezed and squeezed and squeezed  until eventually – the nutcracker broke.  One of its jaws came off, leaving the poor solider with half a mouth.

“Oh no!” Squealed Clara. “Why did you do that?”  And she grabbed the nutcracker and the broken-off piece its jaw and ran off to find their mother.

But what could her mother do? All she could do was to hug Clara and promise that Godfather Drosselmeyer would make the nutcracker as good as new in the morning.   It was funny, but now that the nutcracker-soldier was damaged,  Clara felt sorry for it, and even though it had an ugly face, she began to love it as much as if it were the most beautiful doll in the world.

And when Clara went to  lay it  under the Christmas tree,  she felt so sad that she lay down and held the broken solider closely to her.  She cried a little, and soon she fell asleep among the presents.  And if you came into the room just then, you might have thought that Clara herself was a big doll, like the others flopped under the tree.

At midnight, the 12 chimes of the grandfather clock roused Clara from her sleep.   She sat up and wondered for a  where she was.  And as she looked up she saw Godfather Drosselmeyer sitting on the very top of the tree in the place of the angel.

“Godfather !  What are you doing up there? ” she said.

But he did not answer, because he was just a doll.

And then she saw the nutcracker.  Oh, how sad it looked, lying there with a piece missing.  But then the nutcracker-soldier turned over… and it smiled at her with its broken face.

She screamed and started to run for the door.  But she had only taken a few steps when she saw that the whole floor in front of her was covered with mice  -  only they weren’t ordinary mice because they were dressed as soldiers and they had swords and rifles.   Out in front they were lead by a terrible rodent with seven heads, each with a golden crown on it.

I think that anyone can get a fright from a mouse – they are so small and squeaky, but at the same time they appear out of holes and cracks so suddenly that they catch us by surprise.  But an army of mice!  And a Seven-headed Mouse-King.  This was a terrible sight indeed !  Perhaps I don’t need to tell you that Clara let out a scream !

But before she could scream, or cry , or run,  the Nutcracker Doll rushed forward followed by his own army of dolls and tin soldiers, and the battle between the toys and the mice broke out all around Clara’s feet.   The mice squeaked and guns and cannons fired on both sides.  Clara wondered why they whole family was not awoken by the noise.  Toys and mice lay wounded on all sides, and the nutcracker was fighting  with the Mouse King.  The Mouse King was biting the nutcracker with his seven heads, but the nutracker fought on – if only he was not broken he could have caught the Mouse King in his jaws, but as it was, all he could do was to dance, jump, and kick with his long legs.   He was winning the fight with the King, but losing the battle, for he was surrounded by mice solders who caught him by the feet and started to drag him away.

“Oh no you don’t !” screamed Clara, “and she took off her shoe and threw it as hard as she could at the Mouse King.  She just missed him, but he took fright and started to run.   When the army of mice saw their king running from a giant girl and her flying shoes they turned and fled in terror. In a moment they had vanished into the cracks between the floor boards, leaving their prisoner, the nutcracker, behind them.  All the toys cheered and began to dance, until at least, when the first light came through the window they crept back into the toy box, or went back to sleep under the Christmas tree.

And Clara pulled herself back to her own room and fell into a deep sleep.

She awoke late on Christmas Morning. When she went downstairs, she found Godfather Drosselmeyer. He had already fixed the nutcracker doll so that he was as good as new …

“Thank you so much dear Godfather,” said Clara. “He’s the best present I ever had.”  And then she told him all about her strange dream.

And her Godfather put his head on one side, while he listened to her dream, and when she had finished telling him, he said.

“Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Your dream reminds me of a story.  Let me tell it too you now”

And this is the story that he told Clara.

One Christmas some bad mice crept into the Royal Palace and gobbled up all the sausage meat that was meant for the King’s special Christmas lunch.  The king was furious, and he summoned his special inventor – whose name was Drosselmeyer and who made many wonderful things.   He ordered him to make some mouse traps – which he did – and these were left in the palace kitchens.  Soon they had caught lots of mice.   The Queen of the Mice was furious – for the mice that lay in the traps were her children. A  She climbed up onto the Human Queen’s dressing room table, and just as the Queen was going to bed, the Queen Mouse said:

“So you dared to kill my children did you?   Well I’ll have my revenge, I will.   I’ll make your little Princess turn quite ugly”

The Queen screamed, and her guards rushed in to the room with drawn swords – but the Mouse Queen had disappeared behind the skirting board.

It so happened that the King and Queen had a beautiful daughter called Princess Pirlpat.  When The king heard about the threats of the Mouse-Queen, he ordered bed of the princess must be guarded by seven fierce cats so that no mouse could get near her.  But even cats must sleep. And when they were curled up and purring softly, the Queen Mouse crept past them and climbed up on to the end of Princess Pirlpat’s cot. There she said an evil magic spell, and in the morning, when she looked in the mirror, she saw that her face had been turned quite, quite ugly.  Her nose was long and had a wart on the end of it,  her eyes were small and squinty, her hair was standing up on end and would not settle down,  she had spots on her chin.  In fact, she wasn’t just ugly. She was hideous.

As you can imagine, the Queen was utterly distraught – and the King, well he was beside himself.  He summoned Drosselmeyer again and gave him just four weeks to find a cure for the princesse’s ugliness – or else.

But Drosselmeyer was an inventor, not a magician.  He did not know any spells or anti-spells.  He did not know what to do, and so he asked the Court Astrologer for his advice.  And the advice he received was that Princess Pirlpat must eat a nut called a Crakatook.  But first the Nut must be cracked by a boy who had never shaved,  and he must do it without opening his eyes, and then he must take seven steps backwards without stumbling.

Well Drosselmeyer searched the land for a Crakatook nut, and eventually, after almost four weeks were up, he found one in a small shop. He brought it before the King.

“This nut sire, ” he said, “is the cure for your daughter’s ugliness.  She must eat it.  But first the nut must be cracked by a boy who has never shaved, and he must do it with his eyes closed, and then he must take seven steps backwards without stumbling”.

The King was pleased that the cure for his daughter was so straight forward.  He made a law that that any boy who fulfilled the conditions and cured his daughter of ugliness would have the hand in marriage of the princess.

And many boys came to the palace and tried to crack the nut.  But not one could succeed.

Until one day, Drosselmeyer’s own nephew was visiting his uncle in the palace.  His face was still smooth, he had not quite reached the age when he needed to shave, and his uncle asked if he would like to try his hand at cracking the nut.

And the nephew held the nut between his teeth. And he closed his eyes.  And he cracked it. Then he took seven steps backwards, and on the seventh step — he stumbled.

And although Princess Pirlpat was cured of her ugliness, and was beautiful once more- Drosselmeyer’s nephew caught the spell – and his face became ugly.   In place of his nice kind mouth, he wore a stupid grin, and his smooth cheeks grew a white curly beard.  And his head grew too large for his shoulders. And he looked not only ugly, but stupid too.

And although the King had promised that his daughter would marry the boy who cured her,  his daughter refused to marry one who was so ugly.  And the king had to agree that it would not be proper for the princess to marry such an ugly, stupid-looking boy.

And as Drosselmeyer’s nephew went home, people pointed and laughed at him.  His teacher said he could no longer come to school because he looked so stupid.  And so he stayed at home, all alone.

And that was the story that Godfather Drosselmeyer told to Clara. And she thanked her Godfather for telling her such an interesting story, but she had to admit that it had made her feel rather sad.

That night Clara was thinking about the strange tale, and she could not fall asleep.  After a long while of laying awake, she heard a voice whispering in her ear.

It was the mouse king who had come back. And he said to her:

“Feed me your sweets, or I will bite of the head of your precious nutcracker, and I will spit it out where nobody will find it again, not even your ingenious godfather.”

And Clara was so afraid for the nutcracker that she got up and found some sweets for the Mouse king.  He gobbled them up with this seven heads in an instance, and then he demanded more. And she went down the the pantry and found some cake – and he ate all of that too – and the Christmas pudding – and the newly baked biscuits.  And still he wanted more.

“How much more shall I give you?” Asked Clara.  And the Mouse King said:

“It is for me to say when to stop.  Give me more. More I say !”

And Clara began to cry – for what would her mother say in the morning when she found that all the sweets, cake and biscuits in the house had been eaten?

And as she was crying, the Nutcracker came striding into the room.  The Mouse king turned round and said:

“Prepare to die oh Ugly One ”

but the Nutcracker bit off each of the Mouse King’s seven heads.  And soon he lay dead.

And when he had defeated his enemy, Clara picked up her hero and took him back to her room.  And instead of going to sleep they watched a wonderful show.  Toys came out to dance and sing for them all night long.  Never before had Clara seen such a lovely performance.

In the morning she could not wait to tell her mother all about what she had seen.

But when she began to explain about the seven headed mouse king and the brave little nutcracker, her mother said, “Clara – your imagination is running wild.  Don’t you realise that what you saw is just a dream?”

“But look mother,” said Clara reaching into her pocket, “Here are the seven crowns of the mouse king that the nutcracker defeated !”

“Just toys !” said her mother. “stop being silly.  Can’t you see I’m busy.”

And so clara went into the nursery and sat down and cried.

“It is true, it is true,” she said.  “And if the nutcracker was a person, not just a, well, a nutcracker, then I would love him and marry him even if he was ugly.  I would not be like that Princess Pirlpat in the story.  I would love a boy for his good heart – not for his handsome face.”

And as she said that, she heard the door bell, followed by her Godfather’s voice in the hall.  She went to see him and to tell him what she was thinking.

But there was no need. For Godfather Drosselmeyer had come with his nephew.  And his nephew was no longer ugly – but handsome and bright eyed and smiling.

For when Clara had promised to marry an ugly but good boy, she had broken the spell.  And he had regained his looks of old.   And they both knew that one day they would be married to each other and live happily ever after.

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This is a short and very sweet story about a Christmas gift. In fact it’s one of the very few traditional fairy tales with a Christmas theme.

A poor shoemaker receives some unexpected help just when he needs it most. When it is close to Christmas he and his wife decided to give a gift in return.

It’s by the Brother’s Grimm.

Read by Natasha. Duration 6.18

A shoemaker, by no fault of his own, became so poor that at last he had nothing left but enough leather for one pair of shoes.

So in the evening, he cut the leather into the shape of the shoes, and he left his work on the table to finish in the morning. He lay down quietly in his bed, and before he fell asleep he asked God to help him.

In the morning, just as he was about to sit down to work, he saw the two shoes standing quite finished on his table.

He was astounded, and did not know what to make of it.

He took the shoes in his hands to look at them them more closely and he saw that they were so neatly made that there was not one bad stitch in them. It just as if they were intended as a masterpiece.

Soon after, a customer came in to the shop, and as the shoes pleased him so well, he paid more than the usual price. Now the shoe maker had enough money to buy leather for two pairs of shoes.

That night, he cut out the leather. Next morning he was about to set to work with fresh hope for the future when he saw that the shoes were already made.

There was no shortage of customers who wanted the shoes. The shoemaker soon had enough to buy leather for four pairs of shoes.

The following morning he found the four pairs made; and so it went on. Any leather that he cut out in in the evening was finished by the morning,

Soon he was no longer poor, and he even became quite rich.

Now one evening not long before Christmas, the man finished cutting out the leather as usual. But this time he said to his wife, “Let’s stay up to-night to see who it is that lends us this helping hand?”

The woman liked the idea, and lighted a candle, and then they hid themselves in a corner of the room, behind some clothes which were hanging up there, and watched.

When it was midnight, two little elves came into the room, both without any clothes on, and sat down by the shoemaker’s table. They took all the work which was cut out before them and began to stitch, and sew, and hammer so skillfully and so quickly with their little fingers that the shoemaker could not turn away his eyes for astonishment.

They did not stop until all was done, and stood finished on the table, and then they
ran quickly away.

Next morning the woman said, “The little men have made us rich, and we really must show that we are grateful for it. They run about so, and have nothing on, and must be cold. I’ll tell you what I’ll do: I will make them little shirts, and coats, and vests, and trousers, and knit both of them a pair of stockings, and you can help too – make them two little pairs
of shoes.”

The man said, “I shall be very glad to do it;” and one night, when everything was ready, they laid their presents all together on the table instead of the cut-out work. Then hid themselves to see what the little men would do.

At midnight they came bounding in, and wanted to get to work at once, but as they did not find any leather cut out, but only the pretty little articles of clothing, they were at first puzzled, and then delighted. They dressed themselves very quickly, putting the pretty clothes on, and singing,

“Now we are boys so fine to see,
Why should we longer cobblers be?”

Then they danced and skipped and leapt over chairs and benches. At last they danced out of doors. From that time one they came no more, but as long as the shoemaker lived all went well with him, and all his business prospered.

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Perhaps you know that Colin the Carp is an extremely grumpy fish. He is so grumpy that he doesn’t even like Christmas. In fact, he says it’s total misery.

And so when Tim the Tadpole asks Colin what he would like for Christmas he says, “I want to be alone.” It just so happened that the Christmas fairy overheard Colin make his wish, and when Santa came down to the pond, he scooped up Colin and took him over to another pond where he could be all alone.

At first Colin is happy with his present, but then he starts to have second thoughts….

Read by Natasha. Duration 18.03

It was getting round to that time of year, and all the little tadpoles who live in the pond were very, very, very excited. “Yippeee ! they were saying “We’re going to have lots and lots and lots of green slime for lunch – and presents, and games, and wrapping paper.”

“Oh hark the little tadpoles,’ said Colin from beneath a stone. “No they’re going to have wrapping paper in a pond ! That’s really intelligent. It’s not as if paper is going to get at all soggy in the water.”

Prince Bertie the Frog was sitting on a stone watching all the tadpoles swimming in somersaults and circles, and he was starting to feel quite christmassy. At this time of year, he always remembers the lovely princess Beatrice, how, when he was still a prince, they used to walk hand in hand over the frosty lawns and round the palace ponds , and she would ask him,

“Bertie darling, dearest, do you think that fish get cold in winter? I”m quite sure that I saw that big ugly carp shiver. Poor thing. No wonder his face looks so grumpy. Can’t we get the water heated for the pondlife?”

And Bertie would say,

“My precious petal. You are truly the sweetest princess in the whole wide world. But don’t worry yourself on account of the frogs and fishes. They aren’t like humans. They don’t mind the cold at all.”

But now that poor Prince Bertie has been turned into a frog, he knows differently. “Brrr.” he said. “If only I could have a nice hot bath.’

Colin overheard Bertie saying this and said: “Ah ! At long last a voice of reason ! Bertie, you and I are the only sensible creatures in this pond. Doesn’t all this merry christmas stuff drive you crazy? It’s the coldest, darkest, most boring time of the year, and everyone keeps telling you be happy. ! UUUUGH ! “

“Well actually, I’m afraid I can’t agree with you there,” said Bertie. “Christmas is cold in this part of the world, but it is merry! “

“No it’s not,’ said Colin. “It’s a pain.’

“Yes it is Merry.” said Bertie. “It’s a time of a good will to all creatures on earth.”

“Rubbish! “ said Colin.

Just then, Tim, who is a tiny Tadpole, swam up to Colin’s left nostril and said

“Oh Mr. Carp. What do want for Christmas?”

“That’s easy.” said Colin glumly. “I want to be alone.”

Now, as Bertie always says, you should never wish for something unless you truly want it in your heart – for you never know, your wish might come true, and they you will be sorry. And it so happened that the Christmas fairy was swimming past when Colin asked to be alone, and she heard this wish, and reported it back to Santa. And on Christmas night, when santa came down to the pond with a sack full of fresh green slime for all the pondlife, he scooped up the sleeping Colin into a bucket of water, and took him over to another pond at the other end of the garden. A pond where nobody lived except a gold statue of a cherub. And the cherub didn’t really live at all. He just spouted water out of his mouth.

“Yo ho-ho” said Santa. “There you are carp. Santa always delivers. This Christmas you shall be all alone !”

And in the morning, Colin opened his sleepy eyes and said to himself. “Oh no. It’s the worst day of the year. Those tadpoles will soon be singing christmas carols. I think I’ll just hide under a stone until it’s all over.”

But after a while, he couldn’t help noticing that the pond was strangely quiet. He swam around a bit, and found that it was wonderfully free of stilly tadpoles, quacking ducks, stuck-up swans, and deluded frogs who think that they are princes.

“This is fabulous! “ said Colin. “Just listen to that peace and quiet. Santa must have heard my wish and given me my own pond for christmas ! That’s because I’ve been such a good carp all year round. Thank you Santa ! I’m truly grateful. The only problem is….it’s just perfect. What am going to grump about ? Oh never mind that. I’m…. I’m…. I”m happy!”

And he even did a little dance in the water, because nobody was looking, and he really was happy to be alone for once.

In the Royal Palace, all the children who live there were very excited about all the presents waiting to be opened under the Christmas tree. But the wicked queen was in a furious mood, because she simply hates christmas, even more than Colin does.

She went into the kitchen where the cook and her helpers were all working hard making lunch. And the Queen screeched.

“Not Turkey ! I hate Turkey ! It’s the stupidest bird that was ever eaten!”

“Oh madam, “ said the cook. “I ordered the Turkey weeks ago. There’s nothing else for lunch.”

“Well let everyone else stuff themselves silly with Turkey and roast potatoes. A queen has to mind her figure. I want something healthy. I want, I want….. er fish. In fact, I want poached carp with a little sprig of parsley.”

And with those words, the Wicked Queen swept out of the kitchen and went up stares to shout at the children.

Princess Beatrice loved Christmas day more than any other day in the whole year. She was just coming back from Church when she decided to take a little walk around the ponds and remember her long lost Prince Bertie. Her happiness was tinged with a sadness as she thought about her handsome prince whom she hadn’t seen for quite a while, but she was sure that he would return one day from a brave quest and they would be married and live happily ever after.

At the edge of the garden, she stopped at the pond where Colin was enjoying his solitude. Even though he was happy, his face still looked grumpy. It was just made that way.

“Poor fish.,” said Beatrice. “He’s all on his own on Christmas Day. I”m sure he’s the same one I’ve seen many times before on the other side of the garden, in that slimy pond where they funny looking frog lives. I know. I’ll go and get a net and a bucket, and I’ll take him back to the other pond so he can have some company. That will be a lovely christmas present for him.”

Colin heard this and he said, “Oh no. Your Royal Highness. That’s not what I want at all….” But Beatrice couldn’t understand what Colin was saying, because he’s just a fish, and besides, he was speaking under water.

Instead, she turned around and hurried back to the palace to look for a bucket and a net.

At the same time, the cook was wondering where she was going to find a carp to poach for the Wicked Queen’s lunch. As it was christmas day, all the shops were shut – even the special shops that work by Royal Appointment. Then she remembered that she had seen a fat carp swimming around one of the ponds in the garden, and she went out to look for him.

In his pond, Colin was feeling his usual grumpy self again. “Oh well,” he said to himself. “Soon that air-headed princess will be fishing me out of here and taking me back Bertie’s pond. That’s what I hate about christmas. If people laid off doing good deeds and minded their own business, we would all be a lot happier.”

Then he heard a voice – but it wasn’t princess Beatrice’s – it was the cook, and she was saying”

“There he is. He’s an ugly brute, but he’ll look a lot better when he’s on a plate with a spring of parsley in his mouth. I’ll tell the kitchen boy to come down here with a net and fish him out.”

“What’s this? Said Colin. “On a plate with a spring of parsley in my mouth? Oh No ! Christmas truly is the worst day of the year – and it looks like it’s going to be my last day ever ! “

He started to swim around in a panic, looking for somewhere to hide, but the pond was not like the one where Bertie lived. There was no slime, no muddy bottom, not big rocks. It was just full of pure, clean water. In fact, it was the worst place in the entire world for a fish to hide in.

Soon colin felt himself being lifted up through the air. He was wriggling and fighting and gasping for breath, but he just got his fins tangled in the net. And then Plop ! he was dropped, not even into a bucket, but a plastic shopping bag full of water.

“The indignity of it,” said Colin. “Carried to my own funeral in a shopping bag. Merry Christmas !”

It was very dark inside the bag, and he couldn’t see where he was going. Then the motion stopped. They had arrived. He got ready to whack the cook around the face with his tale.

“At least they will say that Colin The Carp went down fighting,” he said himself.

The bag turned upside down, and all the water and Colin with it went slopping out

“That’s it !” Thought Colin. “Straight into the cooking pot !”

Splash !

And all his scales tingled with lovely cold water.

“Ooh Look,” said a squeaky little voice. “There’s Colin. He’s come out of hiding.”

And all the little tadpoles were swimming around him singing,

“We wish you a merry christmas We Wish you a merry Christmas.

And Princess Beatrice said

“Merry Christmas Pond Life”

The cook didn’t make poached carp for the Wicked Queen’s lunch, because when she went back to the pond, colin had mysteriously disappeared. But it didn’t matter, because the Queen decided to skip christmas all together, and she went up to her room to read up on wicked spells.

And as for Colin, for the first time in his long, grumpy life, he has a very, very, very, merry Christmas because he was so glad to be alive and with his friends.

Download Christmas Writing Competiton Winners.

Natasha reads two very special stories were written by the young winners of Bertie’s Christmas Storynory Writing Competition. As it happens, both stories are about dolls – but the tales are very different. So well done Alisa Pullum and Michelle Dufflocq! And Bertie sends a special commendation to Claire Castle aged 7. He says you are all very talented and hopes that you will keep on writing.

Read by Natasha.

Christmas Miracle by Alisa Pullum

Once upon a time, there was a house on top of a very tall hill. In that house, there lived three little children. There was Matt the oldest, which would always get into trouble with his little sister Erika, and little brother Chris. Matt would go up to Erika and take her most favorite little doll while saying, “Oh Erika! Help me, Help me!” in a squeaky girls voice and prance around her room. Then he would go outside and run around the yard still saying “Please help me Erika! Oh Help, Help!” still using his squeaky girly voice. Chris would always chase Matt and grab Erika’s doll. Then everything would be calm, Erika and Chris would play a little board game, and Matt would sit on the couch and pout all evening long, just because his little siblings had won.

Mother would then come home with groceries and ask them,”how was your day?” Erika and Chris would always say,”It was Ok, I guess.” Just because they didn’t want Matt to get in trouble. When ever Matt gets in trouble he gets yelled at all day, and the next day he won’t even talk, not even one word would come out of his mouth. So every Doll!” day when something bad happens, they would keep their mouth’s shut. But one day Matt did something very bad. He took one of Erika’s dolls, using his squeaky girls voice and pranced around the room, as usual. But when he went out side he gave the doll to his dog, Harold. Harold took the innocent little doll and shook it with his teeth. There was stuffing going everywhere like it was snowing! Oh how Erika screamed and cried,”Down Boy! Give Me Back My Doll!” She begged that for a while until Harold finally let go. The yard was a mess! there was a doll arm there, and a leg here, and the little doll head was right at her feet. Chris could not fix or help with this.

When mother came home that day she saw Erika crying with her doll head in her arms and Chris comforting her. On the couch was Matt laughing and saying, “YES! Victory is mine, all mine!” Then she asked Erika what had happened. “Matt gave my doll to Harold and now I only have her head.” she said moaning with tears. Moms face got red, as red as the burning sun, as red as fire burning clearly in the yard. She went to Matt and grabbed him by the ear. “I’m sure santa won’t give you any presents!” She said. Matt’s ears got scolded with these words and moaned with pain. He was in his room yelling and kicking everywhere!

Three months passed and soon there was three days before christmas. Erika still had her doll head in her arms and had never forgiven her brother after that day. Every night she would prey and say, ” Dear sweet santa, your beard as white as snow, your bells sound as beautiful as a carol, your suit as red as blood, oh please fix my doll.” Then she would go to bed. On Christmas eve, her family came over and exchanged gifts all night long. After the feast, every one went home. So Erika went under the tree and placed her doll head under it and then said, “Dear sweet santa, your beard as white as snow, Your sleigh as sparkly as sun rays, your suit as red as blood, oh please fix my doll.” So she went to sleep and had a very strange dream. It was Christmas and Matt got a large bike and rode it outside all day long. Chris got a cool board game and played it peacefully. But in Erika’s box there was a piece of coal! She woke up terrified and went down stairs to look under the christmas tree. But she did not just see presents, she saw santa holding her doll head! He put christmas dust on it and in seconds the doll had a body with a beautiful dress on it! Even a crown that even she could wear!

Tears of joy ran down her cheeks and before she new it, she was hugging santa clause exclaiming, “Oh, thank you santa! Oh, thank you so much! I knew you would come, I just knew it!” Santa hugged her back and said with a smile, “If you are good I will come with a present just for you. I heard you talking about me so I would like to give you a bell from my sleigh but be careful. If you do not believe me, you will not hear it’s sweet music it would play for you.” More tears of joy ran down her cheeks and she said with joy, “I will always believe you santa. I will, I will!” She hugged him tighter than before and finally let go and when she did, he snapped his fingers and he disappeared while saying, “HO, HO, HO. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!” and he was off! Everyone woke up and Chris got a peaceful board game and played it, Erika got what she wanted, and sadly, Matt got something, but it was a piece of coal! from that day on, everything in that house was peaceful and they all lived happily ever after. Even Matt.

The Ice Doll by Michelle Dufflocq

There once was a little girl named Sunny. She had no brothers or sisters, and at her school everyone teased her. In general she was lonely. But one night on Christmas Eve at exactly mid-night, she wished on a star. Dear star: I would like a friend, the kindest and sweetest friend ever. I would like her for a Christmas present. I do not need anything else. If you grant me this wish, I shall be the happiest girl on earth. And then she went to sleep. The next day was Christmas. There were all sorts of presents to open and lovely things to eat. After that Sunny went outside to play in the snow. She went running all around the yard looking for her friend. Suddenly she tripped on something. Owww! She said, then standing up to go see what she tripped on. It was a small doll; that has about the size of her hand. She was so beautiful yet so dainty and delicate, that she seemed to be made out of ice. You shall be my friend. What’s your name? My name is Sunny, said the girl. My name is Ice, said the doll. Yet her lips didn’t move. Well Ice, said Sunny. We shall do everything that friends do, we shall go ice-skating, we will read books, go to the sea side in when it’s warm again, and play together. Come with me, we shall go inside, said Sunny, picking up the doll.

But as soon as Sunny and Ice were in the house, Sunny notist that Ice was slightly smaller than before. I must be seeing things, thot Sunny.

Sunny and Ice did everything friend do, they read books together, baked cookies together, went ice skating, and played games together. Soon it was time to go to sleep.

By that time the ice doll was about the size of a pea. I shall make you a little bed on my dresser, so you can sleep peacefully, said Sunny. They both got in to bed, and dreamt sweet dreams.

The sun rose and Sunny opened her eyes. She got up, put on her dressing gown, put on her slippers, and ran to go say good morning to Ice. But alas, instead of Ice all there was was a small puddle of water. For Ice was indeed made out of ice. And she had melted during the nights sleep. Sunny looked into the puddle, planning to see her reflection. But instead she saw Ice, with a tear in her eye.

But alas, Sunny’s life continued. She went to school, did her homework, and before she knew it, it was Christmas again. There she was trudging threw the snow, but suddenly she tripped on something. Owww! Said Sunny, and then going to see what it was.

And it was Ice!

Download A Visit From St. Nicholas.

The classic Christmas poem by Clement Clarke Moore, is also known as “The Night Before Christmas”. You will hear that Santa hasn’t changed a great deal since the poem was written in 1822, expect that he seemed to be ‘miniature’ back then, and he did not yet have a reindeer called Rudolf, though he did have Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen.

Read by Natasha Duration 5.15

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

Download Bertie Meets Father Christmas.

We are getting really into the holiday mood now, with the absolutely true story of how Prince Bertie the Frog met Santa Claus. And as a special treat this story is our first to come with music and ambiance.

Read by Natasha. Duration 23 Minutes.

Hello. This is Natasha. And I’m dropping by to tell you the storynory of how Prince Bertie the Frog met Father Christmas.

Yes, really.

In real life.

It’s ever such an exciting story, I can hardly wait to tell it to you.

Christmas was getting close. And all the pond life were sitting around discussing the things that they wanted for Christmas.

It was quite shivery weather, being the middle of winter in that part of the world, but Prince Bertie the Frog and his friends didn’t mind about that. They were too excited thinking of things to ask Santa for.

“What are you wishing for, Bertie?” asked Tim the tadpole.

“Well, my small friend,” said Bertie. “I would like a new 60 giga-byte video Ipod, personally engraved of course. And a new PlayStation 3, with loads of games to play. Maybe a Nintendo as well. Oh, and perhaps a High definition flat panel TV. And, and, and….I would like one of the new Robo-Skateboarders, because I have read it is this year’s must-have present, and there will be a real shortage.”

Bertie had reeled off his Christmas list with great enthusiasm, but then for a moment he felt a little bit sad. For you see, when he was a prince and lived in the palace, he used to get loads and loads of presents. But now he’s a frog, the most he can really look forward to for Christmas is a piece of green slime.

“And how about you Tim?” asked Bertie.

“A pair of Wellington boots,” said Tim. “A walking stick. Some socks. Maybe some jelly babies. And a copy of “Cooking With Slime” by Joly Oliver.”

“We better not even ask Colin the Carp what he wants,” said Bertie.

“Oh, just a fly trap, as usual,” said Colin, sounding a bit gloomy. “And maybe, if Santa can be bothered, a copy of “Dead Insects a la Carte” by Graham Ramsey.”

“And in a perfect world, what would Santa bring for Sadie the Swan ?,” Bertie wondered out aloud

Sadie glided elegantly across the pond. “I think I’d rather ike a day at a luxury health spa,” she sighed. “And some feather beauty treatments.”

And so Bertie said he was would write all the things they wanted down, and make sure they were sent off to Santa in plenty of time for Christmas — and maybe, just this time, Santa would remember all the pondlife. After all, there has to be a first time for everything.

But he had counted without a very unexpected turn of events.

Up at the Palace, just a few days before Christmas, the Wicked Queen, princess’ Beatrice’s Step mother was in a terrible temper – even worse than usual.

She was getting more and more stressed with all the preparations for the big day.

There were presents to buy and wrap.

And food to prepare.

And all sorts of charitable acts for the poor people…which really didn’t interest her very much.

“Right, that’s it,” she screeched one morning. “I’m totally fed up. Christmas is cancelled. We’re not bothering this year…and I’m going to ask that stupid old Santa just to send me a cheque instead.”

Now, when everyone in the Palace heard this, they were really quite upset, because they were looking forward to Christmas so very much. But the wicked step-mother was absolutely determined. “No No, No, Absolutely NOT. Christmas is OFF,” she shrieked over and over again. “And if any little child so much as dare whisper “merry Christmas” I’ll turn him into a beetle.” And everyone did their best to stay out of her sight. Because you see, secretly she’s a witch, and she might turn you into a creepy crawly just for fun, so if he’s in a bad mood, it’s best to stay out of her way.

Everyone was truly miserable, but nobody more so than the Lovely Princess Beatrice, because she especially loved Christmas. Most of all, she liked helping the poor people, and she doing kind thinbgs for little children, and small, fluffy animals…and she quite liked eating yummy-scrummy food, and getting some presents herself.

So she was terribly upset.

And to calm herself down, she went for a walk by the pond. But she couldn’t stop herself from sobbing gentle, sweet tears. She began to talk the creatures who lived on the pond, and she didn’t think for moment think that they might understand a word of what she was saying.

“Dear, gentle swan,” she said. “Funny-faced frog, tiny tadpole, and strangely grumpy looking fish, do you not understand how sad I am, now that the wicked Step-Mother has cancelled Christmas? Yes, it’s true, she wrote to Santa and asked him to pay a cheque into her bank account instead. oh Alas! It is as if my heart had been broken into a thousand tiny little bits….and I have no idea how to put it back together again.”

And wiping the tears from her eyes, she went back to the Palace.

“Oh!,” sighed Bertie. “This is truly terrible. I can’t bear to see the lovely Princess Beatrice so upset. After all, I’m still officially engaged to be married to her royal loveliness. Something must be done.”

And so Bertie, along with his friends, hatched a cunning plan.

They waited until the night of Christmas Eve.

And when it was getting dark, Bertie and Tim hopped onto Sadie the swan’s back. The mission was so important that even Colin the Carp wished them good luck.

Sadie flapped her wings. It was a long time since she had flown anywhere, and she had to flap and flap, but finally she spread out her feathers and soared upwards into the night sky.

Bertie was hanging onto her back…and Tim was hanging onto Bertie.

“Are we there yet?,” asked Tim nervously.

“I only wish,” said Bertie as he swayed around in the wind.

Sadie flapped up and down, up and down, until they were flying over a near-by village.

“There!” shouted Bertie.

And Sadie flew down onto the rooftop, skidding to a halt. Tim was very pleased to climb off, and was already wondering if he could take a bus home, since flying on a swan’s back was a bit scary.

“We’ll just wait right by this chimney” said Bertie. “And when Santa and the reindeer come along, we’ll tell him that he’s not to listen to the silly old Wicked Step-mother and I’ll order him to deliver presents to the Palace as usual.”

And then he paused to think for a bit. “And to everyone on the pond as well, of course.”

So Bertie and Tim and Sadie waited and waited. They got very cold, and a bit peckish, but they didn’t complain because they knew it was very important to see Santa.

Finally, they saw the twinkling of moonbeams, a silvery trail of stardust, and Santa’s sleigh was coming into land.

“I saw him first, I saw him first,” said Tim, trying to jump up and down, which is quite difficult when you haven’t got any legs.

“No, I did,” boomed Bertie.

“It was me, it was me,” squealed Tim.

“No, Tim, I…”

“Not fair, not fair, not fair,” cried Tim. “I never get to see anyone first.”

“Now, now, boys, it doesn’t really matter who saw him first,” said Sadie. “We just have to speak to Santa.”

The sleigh had already landed on the roof, and a big jolly man with a red coat and a white beard was walking with a sack of presents towards the chimney.

“Who’s that?” asked Tim, who really is a rather silly Tadpole.

Bertie ignored him and went up to accost Santa’s reindeer.

“I say there, my merry fellows,” said Bertie. “I need to have word about a delivery.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” said the first reindeer. “You’ll have to talk to the boss.”

“It’s very urgent,” said Bertie.

“Oh, urgent, is it?” said the reindeer. “It’s only Christmas Eve, innit mate. We’ve only got, what three or four billion presents to deliver. And you start telling us your business is urgent.”

“But….but….” spluttered Bertie.

“Well have you got anything for us?,” asked the reindeer.

“And not another mince pie and carrot,” said the next reindeer. “We’ve had a couple of million of them already, and we’re fed up.”

“I didn’t actually think to bring you something,” said Bertie.

“No, well, nobody ever does. We deliver millions of presents around the world, and nobody brings us nothing – unless its a mince pie.”

Bertie was starting to wonder if he’s shouldn’t put in an official complaint about the reindeer’s poor service, when just then Santa himself popped back out of the chimney.

“Oh bother,” he said, bending over and picking up Bertie. “Looks like I dropped this little feller. Oh well, never mind, we’ll just sling it in the next stocking. There must be some not-terribly well-behaved snotty nosed kid who deserves nothing better than a cheap looking toy frog .”

“I-I-I’m not a toy,” spluttered Bertie.”

Santa chuckled. “A toy that talks – that’s hardly original.”

“Look here my good sir,” said Bertie, putting on his grandest voice. “I’m Prince Bertie. From the Palace, you know. I’m merely in the form of a frog because my fiance’s step mother got rather cross with me once – well that’s a long story – perhaps I’ll tell it to you another time”

“We’ll be skipping the Palace this year,” said Santa. “The Queen wrote to us personally, and said she was cancelling Christmas this year, and we were just to send a cheque and a large box of chocolates instead.”

“That’s just it,” said Bertie. “It’s all been a terrible mistake. The lovely Princess Beatrice – she’s my fiancee you know, and the sweetest kindest creature who ever lived – is so terribly sad about Christmas being cancelled, and so I’ve come to ask you to put the Palace back on your route. If its not too much trouble…”

Santa stroked his long white beard. “Can’t be done,” he said firmly. “It’s all been inputed on the system, you see. I can’t go around changing it at the last minute.”

“But Princess Beatrice will be so miserable,” said Bertie.

Santa shook his head. “Not as upset as the systems people will be if I start trying to change the rota. It simply can’t be done.”

Bertie was starting to get so cross he was hopping from one foot to another. “I have to insist,” he said.

“You can insist all you like, my fine frog, er, Prince, but rules are rules. Letters to Santa must be written three week in advance, on one side of paper only, and addressed to the North Pole. Chimneys must be a regulation six feet minimum, and free of dangerous objects. Roofs must have a minimum width of twelve feet landing space for the reindeer. One mince pie must be left for Santa, but no custard, or harmful additives. It’s all there in health and safety regulations, mate.”

“But its Christmas,” spluttered Bertie. “Goodwill to all frogs, and all that.”

“Doesn’t mean there aren’t rules to follow,” said Santa. “If the Palace wants to go back on the list then they will have to apply to head office.”

Just then Sadie the swan walked across. She hissed her fiercest hiss, and bared her sharp teeth. “You’ve never seen a crying Princess,” she said. “It’s enough to break any-one’s hear. Now deliver a present.”

Santa backed away, because Sadie was really quite scary when she got cross. “I could I suppose,” said Santa. “But I’m afraid we haven’t got anything to give her.”

“Nothing at all,” said Bertie.

Santa shook his head. “All these presents are spoken for,” he said. “You wouldn’t want some small child missing out because of you, would you frog?.”

Now Bertie thought about it, that didn’t seem a terribly good idea. “I know,” he said. “Just take me. I’ll be the present.” And as Santa was fed up of arguing,
he agreed to Bertie’s plan, on condition that nobody breathed a word about it to head office.

And so Bertie, Tim and Sadie climbed onto Santa’s sleigh, which Tim thought was the most exciting thing ever. And the reindeer pulled it high into the sky, until it landed on the roof of the Palace. Santa put Bertie in his pocket and dropped down the chimney. He glanced across to check that the lovely Princess Beatrice was sleeping, and then he slipped Bertie into the bottom of the stocking that was hung up by the chimney.

He picked up the mince pie that Princess Beatrice had left just in case Santa did come after all. And then he flew on to deliver the presents to all the other children all over the world.

Bertie stayed at the bottom of the stocking until dawn broke. He was starting to wish he’d borrowed a mince pie because he was feeling a bit peckish, but then he heard Princess Beatrice waking up.

She walked over to the chimney, and she saw that the mince pie was gone, and that there was something in the stocking. “Santa has been,” she said out loud. “I knew he would….”

“I’m so excited, I’m so excited, she said, dancing around the room. “It’s Christmas.”

And then when she had calmed down, she looked inside the stocking. She was talking out loud about all the things she’d asked Santa for. A new tiara set, a string of pearls, a pink ballgown, a fluffy pink bunny, and a complete set of Girls Aloud Cds.

“Oh dear,” she said, lifting Bertie out of the stocking. “It’s a toy frog. That’s, er, well, quite nice I suppose – I think I’ll take it to the charity shop on Monday.”

Bertie was a bit sad about about that. It seemed the Princess Beatrice didn’t really like her present. He only longed that he could look into her darling hazel eyes and say, “Dearest Beatrice? Don’t you recognise me? Before I became this sweet little frog you see before you, I was your Handsome Prince Bertie”

Now if there is one thing Bertie was good at when he was still a prince, it was skateboarding. Unfortunately, Princess Beatrice did not own a skateboard,
but she did have a pair of Rollerblades. And as it happened, Bertie saw one sticking out from under her bed. He pulled it out and hopped on board. Then he started to
do loop-the-loops and all sorts of marvelous acrobatics. Eventually he fell off, but he managed to make that look like he did it on purpose, just to be funny.

Princess Beatrice was delighted. She was so excited she jumped up and down and clapped her hands. Then she picked up Bertie and was about to kiss him when she thought, “well perhaps not this time” and put him down again on the floor.

“My darling little frog,” she said. “How can I ever thank you enough? This is the best Christmas ever.” And she ran off to tell all the little children who lived in the palace all about what had happened.

“Croak” said Bertie when she was gone. And he cried a little tear because he would so like to be a prince once again, and spend Christmas with the Lovely Princess Beatrice. But at the same time, he felt really really happy because he had managed to cheer her up.

And when he got back to the pond, he found some presents waiting for him. And Tim had cooked up a mega-dish of Christmas treats, specially prepared from his brand new copy of ‘Cooking With Green Slime’.

And that’s the storynory of how Prince Bertie the Frog met Father Christmas. And every single word of it is true. Honestly.

I hope you have a great day.

And Santa brings you some wonderful presents.

But for now, from me, Natahsa, and all your pondlife friends at Storynory.com HAVE A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS ! bye, bye.

Download The First Christmas

This is undoubtedly The Christmas story, explaining how it all began when Mary gave birth to Jesus in a stable. The Three Wise Men, The shepherds, and King Herod all put in appearances. It’s read by the late great John Le Mesurier (and introduced by Natasha of course). Our thanks to Onceuponaworld.net for letting us use this audio. You can buy a complete set of audio bible stories from them. For the original Bible story, see St. Luke. Duration: 6.30.

Hello This is Natasha, and as it’s getting near a very special time of year, Prince Bertie the Frog would like you to hear a very special story. It’s the story of the first Christmas and it’s read by a famous English actor called John Le Mesurier.

Mary was sitting in the sun outside her house. it was a normal day, a bit of cooking, a bit of helping around the house. She was having a few minutes rest, when suddenly an angel appeared. “Are you Mary?”, he asked. “Yes, who are you?”, the startled girl replied. “I’m an angel from God”, and I have a surprise for you. You’re going to have a baby.” Mary raised her hand to her mouth. “It would be a surprise, I’m not even married.”

The angel knew that Mary was going to marry Joseph. He explained the details. ‘Your child will be the Son of God, he will be loved throughout the world for thousands of years.’ Mary thought she was dreaming. ‘It is hard to understand,’ she said hesitantly, ‘what shall I call the baby?’ ‘His name is Jesus,’ the angel answered. ‘Now I must fly.’ And he was gone.

Mary sat for a very long time without saying anything. She thought about all the angel had said, and she prayed a nice thank you to God. ‘Jesus,’ she thought. ‘That’s a nice name.’

Mary married Joseph, and they both left for Bethlehem, where they were going to live.

They had to travel a long way, so Mary rode on a donkey while Joseph walked beside her.

They arrived in the town at nightfall, and Joseph asked if there was somewhere to stay, because his wife was going to have a baby. Someone said, ‘Try the inn, they rent out rooms.’

They walked down the quiet streets, Joseph was worried about his wife, Mary who was feeling more and more tired.

‘Here we are,’ said Joseph. He told Mary to wait outside while he went in to arrange things.

A few minutes later, a miserable Joseph came out. ‘There’s no room at the inn.’

The couple sadly left the inn, and found a stable to sleep in.

During the night Mary had her baby, and said to Joseph, ‘He shall be named Jesus,’ Joseph nodded. ‘Lovely,’ he said.

***

Not so far away, there were some shepherds looking after their sheep. The angel suddenly appeared, and the shepherds looked surprised. The angel said, ‘Don’t worry. I’ve come to tell you some happy news. The Son of God has been born in Bethlehem tonight, go and see him.’

To the amazement of the shepherds, the sky was filled with angels singing. ‘Glory to God, and peace to all men.’

‘Come on lads,’ said one of the shepherds, ‘Let’s go and have a look.’

They found Mary, Joseph and little Jesus just as the angel had said, and while the sheep and cows looked on, the men all prayed to God. The baby lay asleep in a manger, with lots of warm cloths to cover him.

***

In those days there was a King called Herod. He got to hear of Jesus and was worried about it. ‘King of the Jews, eh?’ (For that is what Jesus was called) ‘I’ll give him ÒKing of the Jews.Ó Not if I’ve got anything to do with it.’

He heard that three wise men were going to visit Jesus. They had seen a very bright star in the night sky, and were going to follow it. They knew that it was shining right over the manger.

‘Go and find where he is,’ Herod said to the wise men. ‘I want to worship him.’ As the three men left, Herod chuckled to himself. ‘Worship him!’ he laughed. ‘Get rid of him, more like. King of the Jews indeed. I’m King of the Jews.’

He looked out of the window and shouted to the three wise men. ‘Hurry back, I can’t wait to worship Jesus.’

What a nasty man.

The three wise men travelled at night, following the bright star. Finally they arrived, and gave the baby Jesus lots of presents. There was gold, and frankincense and myrrh to make him smell nice.

The men worshipped Jesus, and thanked God for sending him to the world.

They were just going to go back home when God said, ‘Don’t tell Herod where Jesus is. He wants to hurt him, not worship him.’

‘Right,’ said the three wise men. ‘We’ll go back a different way.’

And they did, so Herod never found out where Jesus was.

By HRH Prince Bertie the Frog Download the audio here.
Or use the play button to listen now:

Now, this morning it is a bit cold in this part of the world. Mr Frosty has been to visit, and the vegetable patch is white and glistening. There is ice on the pond.

Brrrr, said Colin the Carp. It is too cold in this stupid pond.

You know what today is, don’t you? said Bertie.

Nope, said Tim the Tadpole, who had not learned to say no properly yet.

It is Christmas, said Bertie.

—

Bertie, Tim the Tadpole, Sadie the Swan, the Lovely Princess Beatrice, and even Colin the Grumpy Carp, all wish you a Wonderful Christmas and a very Happy Holidays whereever you are in the world!

In this special Storynory you can hear how Bertie used to enjoy Christmas when he was a handsome Prince. Now he is a frog, he is rather sad that he is left out of the celebrations at the Palace, but the Lovley Princess Beatrice comes to the rescue.

Read by Natasha Lee-Lewis. Duration 8 minutes.

Now, this morning it’s a bit cold in this part of the world. Mr Frosty has been to visit, and the vegetable patch is white and glistening. There’s ice on the pond.

“Brrrr,” sai Colin the Carp. It’s too cold in this stupid pond.”

“You know what today is, don’t you?” said Bertie.

“Nope,” said Tim the Tadpole, who hadn’t learn to say “no” properly yet.

“It’s Christmas,” said Bertie.

“Not interested,” said Colin, who is a very grumpy fish who doesn’t like anything much. Not even Christmas.

“What’s Christmas?” asked Tim.

Everybody was used to Little Tim asking Stupid questions, but Prince Bertie was amazed that his friend hadn’t heard of Christmas.

“You don’t know about Christmas, young Tim,” boomed Bertie. “My, my. I’ll show you. Let’s go over to the palace.”

“But I can’t walk,” said Tim. “I haven’t got any legs.”

So Tim climbed onto Bertie’s back, and then Bertie hopped up the garden to the palace. Tim was a bit frightened, because he had never left the pond before.

“Hold on there, little Tim,” boomed Bertie as he leapt up onto a ledge.

They looked through the window. Tim was amazed, as he saw the Christmas tree with the lights sparkling on it. And he saw all the children opening their presents, and the huge feast on the table. “I’ve never seen anything so magical, Bertie,’ he said. “How I wish we could have Christmas down on the pond.”

And Bertie felt a little tear in his froggy eye as he thought of all the lovely christmasses he had enjoyed when he was a prince, opening hundreds of presents, and stuffing himself with chocolates and mince pies and cake until he felt quite sick. And he rememberd how in the afternoon, when he had taken his nap, he would go out onto the Balcony of the Palace and make a Special Christmas Speech to all Crowds of people who came to see him. “May you all be happy this coming year”, he would say, “And thank you for all the toys and lovely presents you sent me for Christmas.’

And then Princess Beatrice, who is as kind as she is beautiful, would go to the hospital, and give some of Berties’ toys to the poorly little children who were spending Christmas there. Prince Bertie had so many toys, that he didn’t really mind letting her give some away, although he probably would have minded if somebody not quite so lovely as Princes Beatrice had done it. .

And so Bertie sat on the window ledge remembering all the happy Christmasses he had spent in the past. But then he remembered how he had been turned into a frog, and how the Lovely Princes Betrice could no longer marry him. He would never spend another Christmas with Princess Beatrice now. “Sniff Sniff, Croak Croak” he said, because this was the Saddest Christmas Day he had ever spent.

Just then, as Bertie was crying some more froggy tears, the door of the palace opened. The noise startled Bertie, and he fell from the window ledge onto the ground. “Argghhh,” he croaked. “Eeeekkkkk,” yelped Tim.

“Oh, look, there’s frog,” said Princess Beatrice, as she stepped onto the pathway.

And she picked him up in her hand and carried him back to the pond. She didn’t even notice little Tim who was clinging by his tail with all his might, hanging on to Bertie’s big toe.

Bertie felt very happy to be so close to the Princess Beatrice again, because he loved her so very much. But he also felt a bit sad, because she didn’t realise he was Prince Bertie at all and just thought he was a frog.

And how he longed to be a Prince again. “Croak! Croak!” he said. But Princes Beatrice just laughed because she could not understand any of his croaks. Then she put him down by the side of the pond, and she took a mince pie out of her handbag, where she always kept nice things in case she saw a little child or a furry animal to whom she could give a present. “I’m sure all the creatures who live in teh pond would like that,” she said, in the loveliest, gentlest voice that Tim the Tadpole had ever heard.

Colin the Grumpy Carp wanted to look out of the water at her, but he banged his head on the ice. “Mince pies!” he grumped. “I don’t like them. Why can’t she gives us some a dead insects?”

“Oh, do be quiet Colin,” said Sadie the beautiful black Swan. “I think Christmas is lovely. I think we should celebrate it every year on the pond from now on.”

And if enough children keep listening to Berties Stories, perhaps by next year he will have turned back into a prince and he can marry the lovely Princess Beatrice. Then the Royal Couple will come down to the pond and bring lots and lots of mince pies and Christmas Pudding and fat juicy flies for the Pond Life to enjoy a super-duper lunch.

So tell all your friends to go to Storynory.com, to visit Bertie, and hear all his stories, so maybe next year Bertie will be able to open all his presents again in the palace with Princess Beatrice

Download audio

by Angharad Lynn

Download the audio Christmas story.
Or use the play button to listen now

It was a few days before Christmas. Mum was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Harry and Rosie lay on the living room floor watching TV. I want that for Christmas, said Rosie as a Baby Cry-Cry appeared on the screen. And that, she added as a Magical Musical Mobile appeared. Then an advert came on for a dancing teddy bear. Want that too, said Rosie.

You have to write a list for Santa said Harry. Otherwise he will not know what you want

But I cannot write, said Rosie, who was only three and a half.

Suddenly she had an idea. You write, Harry she said.

Harry groaned. Although he could write, it took him a really long time. He had only just finished his own letter to Santa. I cannot said Harry. It will take too long, ask mum to do it.

- Mum, said Rosie wailing as she made her way to the kitchen. Harry will not write my Christmas list.

—

This Christmas Story about has been written specially for Storynory by Angharad Lynn. Santa has been around for a few years, but he never goes out of fashion . Even the most modern children want to catch a glimpse of him…

Read by Natasha Lee-Lewis. Duration 12 minutes.

It was a few days before Christmas. Mum was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Harry and Rosie lay on the living room floor watching TV. “I want that for Christmas,” said Rosie as a Baby Cry-Cry appeared on the screen. “And that,” she added as a Magical Musical Mobile appeared. Then an advert came on for a dancing teddy bear. “Want that too,” said Rosie.

“You have to write a list for Santa,” said Harry. “Otherwise he won’t know what you want.”

“But I can’t write,” said Rosie, who was only three and a half.

Suddenly she had an idea. “You write, Harry,” she said.

Harry groaned. Although he could write, it took him a really long time. He had only just finished his own letter to Santa. “I can’t,” said Harry. “It will take too long, ask mum to do it.”

“Mum,” said Rosie wailing as she made her way to the kitchen. “Harry won’t write my Christmas list.”

Mum helped Rosie write her Christmas list. When they had finished they put the list up the chimney behind the fire place in the living room. “But how will Santa get my letter?” asked Rosie.

“Doh,” said Harry, who had turned off the TV and was waiting for something to eat. “He sends Rudolf or one of the elves to pick it up.”

“But why doesn’t he come himself?” asked Rosie. “I want to meet him.”

“You can’t meet him,” said Harry.

“Why not?” asked Rosie.

“Because he doesn’t want children to see him,” said Harry.

“But I want to see Santa,” said Rosie wailing. “I really, really want to see him.”

Rosie really really really wanted to see Santa. She talked about it all the time. In the end Mum promised to take her to a department store to see him.

So one morning they set off for the shops nice and early but even though they were early there were still lots of people queuing to see Santa.

“I’m afraid the wait will be two hours,” said a kind looking lady in a smart store uniform.

“Oh no,” said Harry. “We can’t wait two whole hours.”

“But I want to see Santa,” said Rosie.

“It is a long time to wait,” said Mum. “We could just go to the toy department or the café for a cake instead.”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“No,” said Rosie. “I want to wait.”

So they waited and waited and Harry felt tired and hungry and thirsty and bored but Rosie said she would be really sad if they didn’t get to meet Santa.

Suddenly Harry had an idea. He whispered in Rosie’s ear so that Mum wouldn’t hear him

“I know,” he said. “We could trick Santa.” He told Rosie his plan and she thought it was a very good one.
Rosie tugged at Mum’s sleeve. “Actually,” she said. “I don’t mind if I don’t meet Santa. I’d rather have a cake.”
So the children and their mother had cake and drinks and then they went to look at the toys. But they didn’t buy anything because it was so close to Christmas and they would have so much to open on the day.

It was the evening of Christmas eve and Harry and Rosie were laying out a plate of mince pies for Santa. Harry fetched a plate from the cupboard and Rosie carefully placed some mince pies on the plate. Then Harry fetched a carrot from the fridge and put it next to the mince pies.

“Shall we leave out a glass of milk too?” asked Rosie, who always liked a glass of milk herself before she went to bed.

“Yes ok,” said Harry, opening the fridge and getting out the carton.

Harry and Rosie laid out the snacks and then they went upstairs to get everything ready for the trick they were to play on Santa.
Rosie fetched the torch from Daddy’s tool box so that she would be able to see in the dark, Harry fetched Rosie’s skipping rope and put it und the bedclothes.

Harry and Rosie each had their own room but, because it was Christmas Mum and Dad said they could sleep in the same room so Dad had put up the camp bed in Rosie’s room for Harry to sleep on.

Harry and Rosie went downstairs to say goodnight to their parents.

“Can we go to bed now?” asked Rosie.

Mum looked very surprised. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ask to go to bed before Rosie,” she said.

“I suppose you really, really want your Christmas presents, don’t you?” said Dad, looking up from the newspaper he was reading.
Dad took the children up to bed. They laid out their stockings at the end of the bed. “Shall I read you a story?” asked Dad walking over to the bookcase.

“Actually, Dad do you mind if we don’t have one tonight?” asked Harry. “It’s just we are waiting for Father Christmas.”

“Oh all right,” said Dad, “Now be good and go to sleep. I don’t want to hear you both talking all night.”

When Dad had gone Rosie switched on the torch. She had to be sure not to fall asleep. Otherwise the plan would not work.
The door began to creak. Rosie sat up with a start, she must have been beginning to doze off. But when she switched on her torch she saw it was just Harry going to the loo, not Santa after all.

Rosie lay back down in bed and waited some more. She heard the door begin to open.

“Harry,” she hissed to her brother. He was waiting with the lasso he had made from Rosie’s skipping rope, ready to throw it round Santa so that he could not leave without speaking to them.

The door opened and…mum walked in.

“Hello children, I’ve just come to give you a kiss goodnight,” she said. “Harry what are you doing with Rosie’s skipping rope? It is time to go to sleep.”

After mum had gone Harry and Rosie sat up talking a little longer. Would Santa never come?

Harry opened his eyes. It was still dark outside but the stocking at the end of his bed, which was more of a sack than a stocking really, was bulging. “Rosie,” said Harry shaking his sister. “Rosie, he’s been. We missed Santa.”
Rosie sat up and began rubbing her eyes.

“Oh but I really wanted to meet him,” she said.

Harry got out of bed and switched on the light. “Shall we open them?” he asked, looking at the presents.
Instead of answering Rosie dug her hand into her sack and pulled out a package. She ripped off the paper.

“Oh,” she said. “I don’t want that.”

Harry looked at the football annual Rosie had disgarded. He would have liked that himself.

Oh well. He had his own presents to open.

He ripped off the paper of the first one. A baby cry-cry. No way. “I don’t want this,” said Harry.

Rosie by now had opened her second present – a toy airoplane.

Harry’s second present was even worse than the first, a pink dress.

The more presents they opened, the more disappointed the children became.

“Oh well, at least I can eat these,” said Harry pulling out a packet of sweets, as he sat among a dancing teddy bear, a packet of hair clips and a book about fairies.

Mum and Dad came into the room.

“Oh you’re up already,” said Mum. “How are your presents?”

“Awful,” said Harry.

“Horrid,” said Rosie.

“What do you mean?” asked Dad.

Dad looked down at Harry’s pile, and then across at Rosie’s.

“Do you think you may have got the wrong stocking?” said Dad.

Suddenly everything made sense.

Harry leapt with joy onto the Thunderbirds characters, the remote control boat and the football boots. Rosie kissed baby cry-cry.

“You know what Rosie?” said Harry. “we were trying to trick Santa, but in the end I think it was him who tricked us.”

By Charles Dickens
Download the audio play

A pantomime in three parts. See earlier parts:

A Christmas Carol 1

A Christmas Carol 2

A Merry Christmas Bob! – said Scrooge – A Merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year! I will raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this afternoon over a bowl of smoking bishop, Bob!

And it was always said of Scrooge that he knew how to keep Christmas Well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless us Every One!

————

In this third and final part we leave some of the pantomime comedy behind us, as the story turns to the theme of redemption. Rob Maloney puts in a moving performance as the reformed Scrooge. Natasha returns as the ghost of Christmas Present and in her several other parts.

Thanks again to Mike Betteridge of The Working Space Theatre Company . Part one is here. Part two is here.

By Charles Dickens

Download the audio here

The Curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. It was a strange figure – like a child: yet not so like a child as like an old man. The voice was soft and gentle. I am the ghost of Christmas Past.

Long past? – inquired Scrooge.

No. Your past.

Scrooge made so bold to inquire what business brought the ghost there.

- Your Welfare.

Please also see

A Christmas Carol 1

A Christmas Carol 3

—————

In this episode Scrooge is visited by two spirits. The first is the ghost of his old business partner, Jacob Marley, who is RATHER SCARY. The Ghost of Christmas Past who follows is kinder and gentler.

As before, it is acted with great verve by Natasha and Robert Maloney. The adaptation is by Mike Betteridge of the Working Space Theatre Company, which performs in schools.

By Charles Dickens

Download the audio (right click, save as)

Also:
A Christmas Carol Part two
A Christmas Carol Part Three

We present a Storynory Pantomime – A dramatic audio presentation of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens adapted by Mike Betteridge of The Working Space Theatre Company.

Illustrations by John Leech from first edition of 1843 are here.

If you are interested in the text of the original story, you can read it here.

He was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching covetous old sinner! Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, My dear Scrooge, how are you? When will you come to see me? Even dogs appeared to know him, and then they saw him, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts.

Once upon a time – of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve – old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather, foggy withal. And he could hear people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down.

A Merry Christmas uncle! God save you! cried a cheerful voice.

Bah! said Scrooge. Humbug! If I could work my will, every idiot with Merry Christmas on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.

Bertie and Storynory are pleased to present their first mini-play. Natasha plays many parts, including several ghosts who come to haunt the old miser Scrooge. She is joined by Robert Maloney, who peforms as Scrooge with a wonderful snarling voice .Natasha and Rob who acted these roles in the Winter of 05 for Working Space Theatre which tours primary schools. We use this wonderful adaptation by kind permission of its author, Mike Betteridge.