← Koala Moon: Kids Bedtime Stories & Sleep Stories for Kids Podcast
Koala Moon: Kids Bedtime Stories & Sleep Stories for Kids Podcast
Cozy Neurodiversity Bedtime Stories For Kids 🐨 💜 | 2 Hour Compilation For Calm Bedtimes
02:02:11
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Narrator
Foreign.
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Host
Hello and welcome back to Koala Moon, a podcast of original children's bedtime stories and meditations designed to make bedtime a dream. And I am really thrilled to welcome into the Koko Club Tonight Etta, who's 6, and Louis, who's 3 and a half and whose favorite color is rainbow. When I read that I thought, me too. I've always loved rainbows. I just never thought of it as a single colour. That's just genius. So welcome. You two, have a seat over there, make yourselves comfy. We are also welcoming Amelia into the club. I think it might be your birthday. Amelia, Happy birthday. You are from a teeny tiny town in East Texas and I think you turned 6 on the 1st of March. I hope we're not too late to wish you a very happy birthday. I'm Abby and tonight's episode is extra special because Koko has asked me to create a collection of cosy bedtime stories, including gentle tales that support Neurodiverse listeners and celebrate everyone unwinding in their own way. This extended two hour compilation is perfect for snuggling down, getting comfy and giving yourself plenty of time to drift peacefully into sleep. Chosen deliberately for all kinds of minds and bodies, whether your brain feels busy, sensitive, imaginative or wonderfully different, these stories offer a calm space to slow down and rest. Before we begin, a quick message for
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Narrator
the grown ups if you'd like to support our podcast, enjoy ad free listening,
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Host
unlock four bonus stories per month and much, much more. You can join Koko Club subscribe in
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Narrator
just two taps via the link in
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Host
the show notes, but now here's a quick word from our sponsors. Hey Cosy Koalas Sleep Awareness week begins on March 8 and since helping families rest well is what we're all about here at Sleeph hq here it feels like the perfect moment to invite you all to try Coco Club totally free. Then till March 16th you can claim a 30 day free trial of Coco Club, giving you full ad free access to all of our magical stories all month long. Inside Coco Club, you'll unlock over 500 episodes, all completely ad free, ready whenever you want to snuggle down to a story. No interruptions, just cozy storytelling from start to finish, carrying you all the way into deep, peaceful sleep. That means every adventure with Potato and beans, every journey with Hector and Sunny, every magical moment with Coco and Kira, plus our special premium series Cappy and Tito all ready to play. And that's not all. If you choose the Koala Kids Bundle, you'll also have full access to Koala Shine filled with fun facts and adventures, Koala Tots with lullabies and gentle stories for little ones and Koala Sleep Sounds Fun featuring peaceful music and nature soundscapes. That's over 800 pieces of super sleepy content to choose from and remember. If you join as a yearly member, you can request a personal shout out from me in an upcoming episode. One of the moments I treasure most in our cosy Little Club, this 30 day free trial is available until March 16th. You can start it in just two taps on Apple Podcasts or use the link in our show notes. Come and join the Koko Club for free this Sleep Awareness Week. This is the Chicken who Wouldn't Cross the Road By Jane Thomas. Dorothy Feathers, or Dottie to her friends, is a new resident of Sleepy Forest. She and her family moved there from Puddlefoot Farm and are slowly settling into their new home. There's her mother and father, Mr. And Mrs. Feathers, and her six brothers and sisters. Dotty has three older and three younger siblings, so she's slap bang in the middle of them all. Being right in the middle, Dottie hasn't yet figured out exactly who she is. She knows she isn't old and she isn't young. She isn't big and she isn't small, and she knows she isn't the fastest or the slowest. But those are all things she very much is not and nothing that she is. While it is entirely possible to spend an entire life like this, not really knowing who you are, it is dead definitely better if you can figure it out. That's when all the other things start to fall into place, because Dottie isn't really sure of herself. She's scared of an awful lot of things. She jumps when bowls fall onto the floor, or when the wind slams the door, or when a breeze rustles branches of a tree against the window. She finds big books alarming because they are also very full of words. And she finds little books alarming because there are hardly any words at all. In fact, Dottie can find a reason to make almost anything scary. And because she's a chicken, this very much includes crossing the road. Roads have long been associated with chickens. The age old question why did the chicken cross the road? Has a thousand answers, none of which apply to Dottie. Because Dottie, in her entire life, in all the six years she has spent spinning around on this planet, has never once intentionally crossed a road. Oh, she has ended up on the other side of roads, quite by accident.
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Of course.
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Host
Sometimes her mother will cover Dottie's eyes with her wing and and rush her across the road so quickly she barely knows it's happened. And sometimes Dottie has been on a bus that has gone one way and then reached a roundabout and turned around and now all of a sudden she's on the other side of the road. And once she was bouncing on a friend's trampoline and she bounced so high and so hard that she clean shot off the trampoline and ended up landing with a bump and and a thump on the far side of the road, stars dancing around her head as she sat there in a pile of fluff and feathers, wondering what on earth had happened. Dottie's fear means that when she needs to go somewhere, she spends hours and hours planning a route. She's absolutely fine with crossing rivers, for example, as long as there's a sensible bridge in place, one of those that has a beginning and a middle and an end and handrails along the sides. And if there are trees on either side of the road that happen to have grown so tall and wide that they touch in the middle, Dottie is able to climb her way up one tree and across the branches and down the other. She's lived in sleepy Forest for a few weeks now and has gone around many of the areas, carefully noting bridges and adjoining trees on her maps. It has helped her with her route planning. If they knew about this or noticed, her brothers and sisters would no doubt help her out with her problem. But the older three don't notice because they are busy tearing ahead and rushing wherever they're going. And the younger three are busy ambling behind and slowing everything down. I should make it clear at this point, in case you're worried, that Dotty's brothers and sisters love her very much indeed. She's always the one they go to when they need a hug because she has the softest feathers and gives the warmest hugs and says the loveliest things. When the older ones don't feel like being grown ups, they go and spend time with Dottie and listen to the lovely stories she tells. And when the younger ones feel like being grown ups, they also spend time with Dottie, hearing about the world from someone who's a few years older and a few years wiser. In fact, if you asked any of her brothers and sisters who was their favourite, even though they know they shouldn't have favourites, they would all look sideways quickly to check nobody was listening, and then whisper Dottie in your ear. The day has finally arrived when Dottie has to make her way to the Kookaburra Kindi for the first time. Although she lives just across the street from an alligator stop, the bus used by the vast majority of the students, she has to find a different way. The older three brothers and sisters heading to Sleepy Forest elementary assume Dottie has travelled with the younger three and the younger three heading to Duck Duck Daycare, assume Dottie has gone with the older three. But no. Dottie has packed her bag and pecked her mother on the cheek to say goodbye. And she's following the blue line she's drawn on her map that will guide her from home to Kookaburra Kindi without crossing a single road. The problem is she's never walked the route before. She just took a guess as to how long it would take her. And Dottie hasn't brought her watch with her today so she has no idea how much time is passing. As she stops to sniff flowers and watch streams and count clouds, she gets distracted by golden butterflies and emerald green dragonflies and big fuzzy black and yellow bumblebees. She gets caught up listening to songbirds singing and warblers warbling and seeing all the animals of Sleepy Forest heading out to start their days. So by the time Dottie arrives at Kookaburra Kindi, everything is completely quiet. She's surprised for a moment wondering where everyone might be. She thought there would be dozens of children being dropped off to go to school and plenty of them hanging around in the playgrounds and on the fields. But no, there isn't a soul in sight. Dottie follows the signs to the reception where she finds an elderly rabbit with a string of pearls around her neck and a chunky blue cardigan sitting behind an old fashioned typewriter. There's a calendar on the wall behind her and endless post it notes with reminders to do this and that. Dottie plucks up her courage and approaches the desk, relieved to find the rabbit is a very kind, warm hearted creature who guides Dottie to her new classroom. A Mr. Twinkle meets her at the door. A peacock with a stream of turquoise and emerald and jade feathers following behind him. He shows Dottie to her place on a circular table and she looks around the room that is painted to make it feel as if she's under the sea with bright blue colours at the top of the walls and the darkest blues at the bottom. Mr. Twinkle flies back up to a golden hoop that hangs in the centre of the ceiling and he swirls around looking down at his class and leaping back into the middle of the lesson that Dotty interrupted when break time arrives. Mr. Twinkle asks Dotty to stay behind. You were a little late this morning, he tells her. She steals a glance at the clock. Her beak falls open in horror. But Mr. Twinkle, it's two in the afternoon, she says. Mr. Twinkle's eyes twinkle and his colourful feathers flap and shake as he chuckles. Well, yes, you were indeed very late this morning. So late that I believe you had no morning at all. At least not in my classroom. Maybe try and be on time tomorrow. Dotty nods her head quickly up and down, promising to do better the next day. She forgets to see how long it takes her to get home from school, so isn't able to make a better plan the following morning. But Dottie is determined not to get distracted by bees and butterflies, songbirds and warblers. She focuses on following the Blue Line on her map and trotting across the bridges she's found and climbing the trees that help her get from one side to the other. And when she arrives at Kookaburra Kindi, exactly the same thing happens as the day before. There is nobody around and the playgrounds and fields and entrance are quite empty and Dottie has to walk by herself to Mr. Twinkle's classroom. She knocks at the door with her beak and he comes to the door with a flourish of fluttering feathers beaming down at her and welcoming her to the class. Much better, he announces. Only an hour late today. Keep this up and you'll be here before me tomorrow. Dottie tries to smile because she knows from the twinkle in Mr. Twinkle's eye that he's only being kind, but she feels very foolish indeed. Everybody else has made it there on time. Everybody else already has their workbooks on their desks and is taking notes about the lesson. As she walks slowly home, she checks the route against her map, seeing if she can't find any shortcuts to save herself a little time. In the morning she manages to find one little corner that can be avoided and one little bridge that will take perhaps a whole minute off her morning walk. But she isn't convinced this will be enough, and although she sets her alarm for Silly o' clock the next day, she worries that it won't go off and spends the whole night sitting up in bed staring outside until the first hint of sun starts climbing over the horizon. As soon as there's enough golden light spilling out into the day, Dottie clambers out of bed, grabs her school bag and starts walking along her new Blue Line route. She can't help but cluck in amazement when she arrives at the school and again nobody's there. The fields are empty, the playgrounds are empty, the entrance is empty. And feeling very silly and very tired indeed, she makes her way to Mr. Twinkle's classroom and pecks at the door. Only this time Mr. Twinkle doesn't come and open it. Nobody does. Dotty swallows hard and plucks up all her remaining courage and turns the handle, daring to just walk into the room. Only the door doesn't open. It is locked. Dottie spins around, wondering what to do, when she spies a clock on the wall. She looks at it and shakes her head and looks again and realises that Mr. Twinkle is absolutely right. She is there a whole two hours before school is even meant to start. Dotty's so tired and doesn't want to walk all the way back home again and all the way to school once more. So instead she settles down on the bench outside the classroom and decides to have a doze. And that is how Mr. Twinkle finds her two hours later when he arrives at school, sweeping into the corridor with a rustle of fine feathers. Gently, so very gently, he coughs beside Dottie, just loud enough to wake her, but not enough to startle her. Dottie, going from asleep to awake in a single moment, leaps from the bench and starts stammering Some apologies. Mr. Twinkle listens to her, his head on one side, wondering what he's going to do with this lovely new chicken who's having trouble getting to his class on time. When Dottie has finally finished mumbling about this, that and the other, Mr. Twinkle says kindly, do you think you could show me on a map where you live? I'm curious how far you have to come each day. Dottie eagerly pulls her map from her bag. I can go one better, she says proudly. I can show you exactly the route I take to school. Mr. Twinkle looks at the blue line that meanders this way and that, the most indirect line between two points that he has ever seen. He spends a lot of time trying to work out what it is that is curious about the route little Dottie takes. But try as he might, he can see no logic to it. She doesn't seem to be going via the park and distracting herself with the swings and the slides. She isn't deliberately going past Betty Badger's bakery and spending time with a pile of doughnuts and delicacies. He gives in and shakes his head, telling Dottie she'll have to explain why she's picked this route and not, as he gestures towards the map, this much more obvious one. Dottie looks down at the ground and mutters something that Mr. Twinkle doesn't quite hear and he asks her to repeat it. She takes a deep breath, then looks up and says as loudly as she dares, I don't want to cross the road. Mr. Twinkle is quite taken aback, asking her why she doesn't want to cross the road. Because, Dotty explains with a sigh, everyone is always asking, why did the chicken cross the road? Why did the chicken cross the road? And it got me thinking. There must be a reason, everyone asks. And that something must have happened, something that means the chicken should never have crossed the road. She looks down at the ground again. Well, it makes sense to me, she finishes with a sigh. Mr. Twinkle flutters his emerald and turquoise feathers and thinks to himself what a very smart little chicken this is he has here. She has certainly put a lot of thought into a very simple question. He chooses his words carefully. Do you know, he says at last, I've never thought about it that way before. But now you've said it, that makes perfect sense. Dotty starts to smile a little. Really? She asks. Really really, Mr. Twinkle assures her. But do you know the answer to the question everyone asks? Dottie shook her head. She'd only ever heard the question over and over and never listened to the answer. Not properly. Well, the answer is usually just this. The chicken crossed the road to get to the other side. Dotty blinks. That's it, she says. Mr. Twinkle smiles at her. That's it. So they aren't saying that the chicken was silly for crossing the road. And why would the chicken think to do that? Mr. Twinkle shakes his head. Not at all. The chicken proves they're one of the smartest creatures in the world, for the smartest creatures often give the simplest, most obvious answers. Why would you cross a road? Well, to be on the other side of it. That to me, seems like the most sensible of all reasons to cross a road. Dotty thought about this. It was a whole new way of looking at the problem. But still she wasn't sure that she could just go and cross a road. She had lived her entire life avoiding doing just that. And to suddenly start waltzing across roads just because Mr. Twinkle had explained that actually it would be a very smart thing to do. Wasn't all that easy to change a habit. Takes time. Not a single moment Mr. Twinkle seemed to guess what was going through her mind. So he led her outside. Out by the school gates was a black and white crossing painted in the road, and as Dottie and Mr. Twinkle stood on one side a beaver in a bright yellow coat went and stood in the middle with a big stick that looked like a lollipop in her hand. On it were painted the words Stop Children crossing. Thank you. And as the beaver stood there, a dozen little creatures crossed over the road, all of them stopping to say hello and thank you to the beaver, who smiled and waved at them one by one. When the last of the little creatures was safely over the road, the beaver went back to the side again. I think, said Mr. Twinkle, this is a good starting point. Let's cross the road with Mrs. Belvedere, shall we? She does a very good job of making it absolutely safe. Dotty checked that Mr. Twinkle would come with her, and his immediate, of course, was enough to reassure her. So when another group of little creatures had gathered at the far side, Mrs. Belvedere walked into the middle of the black and white crossing and held out her lollipop and waved for the creatures to start coming. Dotty and Mr. Twinkle started from their side too. Dottie Dotty walking forwards in quick jerks and then sudden stops, and she rushed past Mrs. Belvedere and then had to rush back again to say hello and thank you in a very hurried little voice. She felt terribly proud of herself once she'd made the crossing and, pulling out her map, saw just how long it would have taken her to get to this point if she'd avoided using the black and white pathway specially made for her and others to cross the road safely. Mr. Twinkle guided her further down the road until they came to a spot where there were lamp posts with buttons that could be pressed. A bright red turtle glowed on a light on the far side of the road, and Mr. Twinkle pointed it out to Dottie, saying that as long as the turtle was red, she must stay where she was. She didn't have to wait long before the lamp post started beeping and the turtle went Green and Mr. Twinkle led the way across the road. Dotty stared at the green turtle the whole time, worrying it would turn red, but of course it didn't. The green turtle knew just how long it would take people to get across, and it shone and shone, giving everyone, even old creatures with bags of shopping, plenty of time to cross the road. But what if there's a Crossing without Mrs. Belvedere and without a red or green turtle? Asked Dotty. What if I need to cross a road without one of those? Mr. Twinkle guided Dotty to a small lane at the back of Kookaburra Kindy. It was a very quiet lane indeed, that hardly anyone used, and he said that this was the sort of road she could cross without the help of a turtle or Mrs. Belvedere. But first she must look left and right and left and then right again, and when she was quite sure nobody at all was coming, she could walk across the lane. That whole morning was life changing for little Dotty. She didn't love crossing roads. The question was always there at the back of her mind one way or another. But she could cross roads, and that was the important bit. The next day it took her just 10 minutes to walk to school, the route a fraction of the one she'd taken the first time, and on the way back from school she let herself stop a little and smell the flowers and watch the butterflies and the dragonflies and the bees and listen to the songbirds and warblers. And even with all of that she still got home in plenty of time to do her homework and have her tea with her brothers and sisters and take a lovely warmed by the sun dust bath before bed. Dottie climbed into bed that night very proud of herself indeed, and very grateful to Mr. Twinkle. She would always love crossing bridges and looking down at the streams and rivers, she thought to herself as she snuggled down into her bed, and sometimes she loved climbing trees and leaping across branches and using those to cross roads. So she would keep doing that too, but just by looking at the question a little differently, just by understanding that actually getting to the other side of the road was a good thing, she had changed how she would live in the world. She slept soundly that night, not worrying about alarms or roads or being late or being early, and the next day, she told herself as she drifted off to sleep the next day she would ask all her brothers and sisters to walk to school with her just so she could show them all how good she was crossing roads. Now maybe she didn't need to be the chicken in the middle who kept the older and the younger brothers and sisters apart. Maybe instead she could be the chicken in the middle who brought them all together. This is Mumble's Jumbly Storybook by Jane Thomas. Mumbles the elephant lives with his family in the very north of Sleepy Forest, the jungly part where there are huge pools of mud for them to slosh about in, and rivers for them to play in, and vast plains for them to roam. His cousin Cooper lives there too, and if you're one of those people with an extraordinary memory, perhaps you will remember Cooper the elephant, who is sort of a magician and sort of a comedian and likes to wear a little red hat perched on the very top of his head. There are two facts about elephants that you should know already. The first is that, very famously, elephants never ever forget. Show them something once and they will remember it forever. This is partly why many elephants can speak five or six or even seven or eight languages. They're also very good at sums, and they always remember exactly how many cookies were left in the jar, so they can tell the moment one goes missing. The second is that female elephants are always in charge. Always. The oldest female elephant around is the one who sets the rules. So grandmothers and great grandmothers and aunts and great aunts are extremely important to elephants. If your grandmother tells you to sit down and behave yourself, and you happen to be an elephant, you do it, no questions asked. But another thing about elephants, and this is one I'm guessing you didn't know because you've probably never met an elephant you can read. But of the ones who can, many are dyslexic. Funnily enough, about one in every ten people are dyslexic. And that number is exactly the same for elephants. For every 10 magical reading elephants you come across, one of them will be dyslexic. In case you've never heard the word before, dyslexia basically means someone finds it a bit harder than others to read and spell. If you look at a page in a book and you don't have dyslexia, the words do basically what they're supposed to do. They stay there where they were put, and they do as they're told, behaving themselves like reasonable, acceptable words. But if you look at the same page and you have dyslexia, the words and the letters all sort of get up and go for a bit of a wander. So they don't always make sense, and it's really difficult to get them all to go and stand where they're meant to for long enough for entire words and sentences to be read. So there you go. That's three facts about elephants. And come to that, three facts about our new friend Mumbles. He has an insanely good memory. He can tell you what he had for breakfast exactly three years ago, if you're interested in that sort of thing. And he has a great grandmother called Elsa, who he loves and adores more than anyone and who is very much in charge of his whole family. And when he tries to read a book, the words go swimming about on the page. On this particular evening, Elsa is feeling really very tired indeed. She spent the day Having a good old soak in the mud, sinking deep down into the pool so only the very tip of her trunk is above the surface. And after that she went for a good long swim in the river, washing all the mud away from every crevice and wrinkle on her thick grey elephant skin. She visited the spa, where a couple of oxpecker birds polished and shined her tusks until they gleamed in the late evening sun. And now she just wants to fall asleep on the veranda, listening to the last notes of the cicadas as the sun settles down over the horizon. Elsa is on one of those swinging porch chairs that's all covered in padded cushions and she's rocking gently back and forth to and fro, using her trunk to push off from the wall when the swinging almost comes to a stop. She's supposed to read the littlest ones their bedtime story, but after her lovely afternoon, she's yawning huge elephant yawns and is so very, very tired. She doesn't really have the energy, she thinks to herself. Then here comes Mumbles, trotting across the veranda to say goodnight to her. And along with him comes a very good idea. Mumbles, she says, her eyes slipping closed as she speaks, I do believe it's your turn to read the bedtime stories tonight. Yes, yes, I'm quite sure it is. You'll do a wonderful job, I just know you will. And with that, she turned on her side and let out a long, blissful, contented sigh followed by a rumbling elephant sized snore. Mumbles opens and closes his mouth a few times as if he wants to argue, although of course he wouldn't. What his grandmother says goes. It's as simple as that. She's very wise, you see. It's worth listening to. Her Mumbles walks slowly towards the bedroom where his youngest brothers and sisters sleep. By now they'll have cleaned their teeth and tusks, both equally important to an elephant, and slipped into their beds. And they'll be lying there, heads on pillows, blankets pulled up to their chins, trunks curled up all cosy and warm, waiting to be lulled to sleep by a bedtime story. There's a fourth fact about elephants I should have told you earlier. Possibly more than any other animal in the world. Even the ones like sloths who like to sleep almost every hour of the day and night. Elephants adore, they absolutely adore bedtime stories. As Mumbles walks in, he sees the rocking chair at the end of the room is ready and waiting for him. Well, it's ready and waiting for his grandmother, Elsa, really, but she's fast asleep on the porch outside, so he's here in her place. A single lamp is glowing on a low table beside the rocking chair, and there's a cushion for him to lean against and a soft blanket the colour of the sky to pull over his knees. Mumbles sees that his younger brothers and sisters, all five of them, have chosen books and placed them on the chair, waiting for them to be read aloud. Mumbles picks up the first book and smiles to himself as he looks at the COVID There's the familiar image of a rabbit in a little blue jacket. And even though the letters are swimming all over the place, Mumbles remembers the story by heart. He must have heard it a hundred times. And before he opens the book, he confidently tells the little listening elephants that he will be reading from the Tale of Peter Rabbit, written by Beatrix Potter. As he turns the pages and looks at the pictures, all the words come rushing back to him and Mumbles relaxes into the story, relating the tale of Peter and Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail, and how they go into Mr. McGregor's garden and then race back home to the safety of their burrow. As he reaches the final page and softly announces the end, Mumbles hears a contented sigh from his very littlest sister, who turns over in her bed and whispers, thank you, Mumbles, that was wonderful. Good night. And the rustle of the blanket is followed by the tiniest elephant snores rumbling over from her corner of the room. Mumbles reaches over for the second book and again smiles, feeling relieved as he looks at the picture on the COVID It shows a boy in a red jacket climbing up a beanstalk, and Mumbles softly says that now he's going to read aloud the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, first told by nobody really Knows, a terribly long time ago. And just as before, as Mumbles turned each page, he looked at the pictures and his wonderful elephant memory remembered the story word for word that he must have heard a hundred times. So he told the tale of the boy who sold the cow and bought the magic beans and climbed up a giant beanstalk. And as he reached the final page and softly announced the end, his very littlest brother turned over in his bed and whispered, thank you, Mumbles, that was wonderful. Good night. And the blanket rustled and his trunk went first this way and then that, and then the gentlest little elephant snores came drifting out of that corner of the room. You can imagine how relieved Mumbles felt when he picked up the next book and he saw on the COVID a tin man and a lion and a man made of straw and a girl wearing red shoes that gleamed and sparkled. And he softly announced that now he was going to read the story of the Wonderful wizard of Oz, written by L. Frank Baum. The rocking chair Mumble sat in was by the bedroom window, and just outside on the porch was his grandmother Elsa, swinging to and fro on her cosy bench. For a moment she stumbled out of her dream and heard Mumbles announce that he would now begin the story all about Dorothy and how she followed a yellow brick road. Elsa smiled to herself as Mumbles started to tell the tale, and she thought how she must have read it to him a hundred times and how good it was that he had such a wonderful memory and could remember it word for word. Now, Mumbles was extremely lucky three times, because he knew the stories of Peter Rabbit and Jack and the Beanstalk and the Wonderful wizard of Oz by heart. It didn't matter that the words and letters were dancing on the pages and not behaving themselves at all. One look at the pictures and he was instantly back in the stories. The fourth story was much more difficult for him, though. It was a book he'd never seen before, and even though he screwed up his eyes and turned the book upside down and tried shaking it to get the letters to fall into place, he really couldn't work out what the letters were trying to tell him. Fortunately for Mumbles, the brother who had chosen the book didn't know the story either, so he was more than happy with the version Mumbles told. Mumbles looked at images of a boy living in a jungle, surrounded by a black panther and a big bear and walking along with a baby elephant, an even smaller elephant than his very littlest sister, and made up a story about the boy swinging through the trees and eating the jungle fruits and dancing in the rain. He talked about him dancing with monkeys and climbing to the highest branches of trees to reach for the yellowest bananas and shimmying up palms where he grabbed the biggest coconuts. Mumbles made up stories of the boy running with wolves one moment and riding the back of the panther the next, racing through the shadows of the jungle there one moment and gone the next. He had the boy dancing with the bear, laughing and talking and high fiving as they shimmied their way along a jungle path and used great looping vines to swing and leap into clear blue pools that sparkled with diamonds as waterfalls poured into them. And his brother who had never heard the story, fell in love with the book he knew to be the Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling, and he couldn't wait to read it again. Although when he did read it the next day, he wasn't quite sure when he had fallen asleep, because the story wasn't exactly as he remembered Mumble's telling it. After that, there was just one little brother still awake. But the final book proved impossible for Mumbles. There was a plain green cover with gold lettering that danced and swayed, and when he opened it up to see the pictures and follow the story that way, he saw that there were no pictures at all, just words and letters that misbehaved even more badly than in all the previous books put together. Um, said Mumbles uncertainly. Um, he added, not quite sure what to do. He scratched his head with the tip of his trunk, and in a flash he had an idea. Dyslexic people might not always be able to read or spell particularly well, but more often than not, they more than make up for this by having brilliant imaginations. Plus they often think a little bit differently and come up with some extraordinary ideas. Bubbles, he whispered to the last brother who was still awake, waiting for his story to be read to him. Hmm, said Bubbles, who was only awake to hear his story, but was feeling really very, very tired indeed and almost on the brink of falling asleep. Do you mind, Bubbles, if I tell you a different story? Asked Mumbles. Can it be a story about a castle? Said Bubbles. Mumbles said it could. And can it have a boat in it? Said Bubbles. Mumbles agreed that it absolutely must have a boat in the story. And can Granny Elsa be in this story too? Said Bubbles. Outside on the porch, Elsa smiled to herself. She had been about to fall asleep again, but perhaps she would stay awake to hear what Mumbles conjured up about a castle and a boat. And herself, of course, said Mumbles. And so he sat on the rocking chair with the soft blanket. The colour of the sky poured up over his knees and leaned back and closed his eyes and began to tell the story. Once upon a time, there was an elderly elephant called Elsa. She was the wisest, most wonderful elephant in all the world, and she decided to take a trip to a place she had never been before. Elsa had walked as far north as the world allowed and as far south as anyone ever had. She had walked to the east, towards the rising of the sun, and west to follow the sunset as it settled down to sleep over the horizon. She had climbed to the top of the highest mountain and looked out on the valleys and rivers below. And she had walked across deserts and through jungles and in the biggest cities and the smallest villages of the world. But one place Elsa had never been was across the sea. So she decided to go to the harbour and ask a fisherman if she could borrow his boat. The fisherman said she was more than welcome, but first she must help him empty all the fish she had caught that morning. And so she hauled with her trunk and picked up the heavy baskets of shining silver fish and placed them gently on the harbour wall. A long line of silver that shimmered in the light of the sun. And then the fisherman cast off the rope and waved her goodbye. And Elsa raised the red sails and turned, so she was heading straight out to sea. It was the most perfect calm day, with just enough breeze for the little wooden boat to ease itself across the waters, but not enough for there to be any waves. Dolphins danced alongside the boat and Elsa lay back and turned her face to the sun. She had no idea where she was going or what she wanted to find, but she just knew, somehow that the little wooden boat would guide her to a magical place. She sailed for hour after hour, seeing nothing at all. And then, there in the distance, she saw something start to appear. As she drew closer and closer, she realised that it was a single jutting rock. And perched on top of the rock was a very tall, very narrow castle made of brilliant white stone, from when she first saw it to when she finally drew alongside the tiniest golden beach. It took almost an entire hour of sailing, the castle growing taller and taller with every minute that passed. Then Elsa was there with the boat, pulled up onto the beach, looking up at this castle that seemed as if it must reach to the very top of the sky. The door was open, and Elsa supposed that there probably wasn't much passing traffic all the way out here at sea. And so it didn't matter about locking the door, but to be polite, she closed it behind her. She wiped her feet on the mat, removing the sand and the salt of the sea, and then started her way up a staircase that wound around and
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around
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every 30 steps or so. There was a window made of coloured glass, and so the stairway was filled with different coloured lights that shone onto the bright white stones. So one moment it felt as if she was walking up steps made of rubies, and the next she was treading on a staircase carved from emeralds. At one point, it became dark for a moment and Elsa looked out to see that she was in the middle of a passing cloud. So high had she gone in the castle, on the rock, in the sea. And then she was above the cloud and the sky was blue once more, so very blue and still. The stairs wrapped around and around the tower. And finally, just as she was wishing there was some place she could sit and rest, she came to the room at the very top of the tower, feeling as if she had reached the edge of the sky. In the centre stood a huge red chair, plump and deep, and on it was folded a soft blanket, the colour of the sky. Before Elsa sank into the chair, she went over to the wall to read the single notice that was on there. In this chair, the sign said. Every great writer for hundreds and hundreds of years has sat and in this chair they have conjured up the greatest stories the world has ever known. They have solved the most curious mysteries and danced with dragons and soared with eagles. They have dreamed up the most wonderful characters and created worlds so magical they have lived inside them for years. Take your turn in the chair and create your story. Mumbles opened his eyes and looked over to see if his brother was asleep yet. Bubbles was lying there, his eyes drooping, but he was just about awake. Mumbles, he whispered, do you believe the castle's really there? Mumbles thought about it for a moment. Yes, he whispered, I do. Bubbles smiled. Me too, he said as he curled up his trunk and added his gentle elephant snores to the others in the room. Outside on the porch, Elsa smiled to herself. Me too, she whispered into the quiet of the night. It perhaps isn't surprising that all three of them had the very same dream. That that night, all three of them dreamed that they sailed on a little wooden boat across the bluest of seas with dolphins dancing alongside and leaping through the waves, and came across a castle made of the brightest, whitest stone that reached to the very top of the sky. All three of them climbed the steps that wrapped around and around the inside of the tower, with light pouring in through coloured glass windows, so it seemed they were walking on stairs made from rubies and emeralds. And all three of them reached the room at the very top and sank down into a deep red chair, pulling the softest blanket, the colour of the sky around themselves. And of course, all three of them wrote stories as they sat in that magic chair. For we are all dreamers. We are all makers of magic. We are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams. Wandering by lone sea breakers and and sitting by desolate streams, world losers and world forsakers on whom the pale moon gleams yet we are the movers and shakers of the world. Forever, it seems. This is Prickles the Hedgehog by Gillian Rogerson.
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One afternoon in Sleepy Forest, a little hedgehog called Prickles was on his way to a friend's party. He absolutely loved going to parties. He loved having a dance with his friends and playing fun games like musical
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chairs and pass the parcel.
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The food was always delicious and he especially liked the cucumber sandwiches and the strawberry trifles. He always had the most wonderful time at parties.
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But the thing he loved most of
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all was the balloons. There was something so magical about them.
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They came in such an amazing variety
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of colours and looked so big and bright.
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He'd even seen some that had silver glitter inside them.
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It wasn't only round balloons that he'd seen at parties. He had seen long balloons too, and ones shaped like numbers. Prickles smiled as he remembered a special party he'd been to recently.
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It was the one he'd never forget.
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A magician had been at the party and he. He had made long balloons into lots of different animals, including a hedgehog who looked very much like Prickles. But even though Prickles loved balloons, there was a problem. No matter how hard he tried, Prickles always managed to pop the balloons. He didn't mean to. It just happened accidentally.
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One minute he would be minding his own business and having a good time
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at the party, and somehow a big, bright balloon would come his way and land on his spikes and then pop. And it was never just one balloon.
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Others would find their way to him
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too, and then pop, pop, pop. He just didn't know how it happened.
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None of his friends ever minded. They cheered when the balloons popped and then they started to pop them too,
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until all the balloons had burst. It was good fun, but Prickles preferred the balloons when they were big, bright and beautiful.
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As he walked closer to the house
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where the party was being held that day, Prickles Crickles hummed happily to himself. He wasn't going to accidentally pop any balloons at the party.
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Not even one. He had a plan.
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A very clever plan, and he was absolutely certain it was going to work. Prickles arrived at the house where Scamper the Squirrel lived. It was her birthday party and she
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was one of his best friends.
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Prickles knocked on the door. It was opened by Scamper's mother. She smiled at him and said, hello there, Prickles. You look different today. Have you done something different with your spikes? Prickles nodded. I've put some hair gel on to smooth them down. I'm not Gonna pop any balloons today? He gave her a big smile and handed her the present he'd brought for Scamper. Scamper's mum put the present on the hall table with some others. Then she led to the room where the party was being held to Prickle's delight. There were balloons everywhere, resting on tables, piled up beneath chairs and fixed to the bottom of the windows. Bright reds and blues and vibrant yellows and greens. There were even silver ones, and they were much bigger than the other ones and they had gold glitter inside them. They looked so magical to the little hedgehog, like planets in the sky. Scamper ran towards him. Hiya, Prickles.
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Thanks for coming.
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She gave him a closer look. What have you done to your spikes? Prickles lifted his chin proudly. I've put hair gel on them and now I won't pop any balloons by accident. What do you think? Scamper told Prickles to turn around. Prickles did so and then waited for his friend's response. Scamper said, you look different, but I like your new look. Do you still want to play some games? We're just about to start.
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Musical chairs.
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Oh, my favourite.
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Yes, please.
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Prickles ran after Scamper and joined his other friends who were jogging around a line of chairs. Joyful music was being played. Prickles waved to his friends. They made room for him in the line and soon the little hedgehog was dancing in time to the music. As he jigged around the chairs, the music stopped and everyone jostled happily with each other as they rushed forward to
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find an empty chair.
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Prickles was lucky to find one, and seconds later the music started again and the game continued. Everyone had a wonderful time jogging around the chairs and the game was soon over. The birthday girl won, which everyone was pleased about. More games were played and Prickles had an amazing time. He got warmer and warmer and his cheeks glowed with joy. He was having such a wonderful time that he didn't notice his hair gel was slowly drying out until one of the large silver balloons that had glitter inside was lifted on a gentle breeze from an open window. It somehow found its way over to the little hedgehog and landed gently on his spikes. And then. Pop. It was so unexpected that Prickles didn't realise it was him who had popped the balloon. He looked around and said, who did that? You did, his friends replied. They pointed to his spikes and told him they were standing up again. Prickles shook his head. It couldn't have been me. As he spoke, sprinkles of gold glitter fluttered down from his spikes and landed on his nose. It was the glitter that had been inside the silver balloon. Prickles sighed. I'm so sorry, everyone. I thought my hair gel idea would work. It doesn't matter, Skamper said kindly. She gently wiped the glitter off his nose and gave him a big grin. Now that one balloon has popped, let's pop them all.
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Her friends cheered and then grabbed the
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nearest balloon and began to pop them. Prickles joined in, but he couldn't stop thinking about how to solve his balloon problem. There must be a way, surely. Prickles came up with another idea the very next day, which was lucky, because he was going to another party that afternoon. This time it was his friend Whiskers, the rabbit, who was celebrating his birthday, and the party was going to be held in the village hall. Prickles put on his best bow tie and headed to the party. His plan was perfect. He wouldn't pop a single balloon. He was absolutely certain of it. The party was in full swing when the little hedgehog arrived, and to his delight, there were balloons everywhere. Some were even in the shape of animals. His friends cheered when they saw him. Hiya, Prickles, Whiskers said. We're going to play Pass the Parcel.
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I know how much you love that one.
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Follow me. It was time for the little hedgehog to put his plan into action. Thank you, Prickles said. I'm going to play another game. It's a special game, and it means I won't pop any balloons. Whiskers was curious.
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Really?
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Tell me how to play it.
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Is it fun?
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I'm not sure yet, but it could be. Prickles said, I'm going to pretend I'm a statue and I won't move. Not easy, even a tiny bit. And if I don't move, then I won't pop any balloons. Oh, I like that game. Can I play, too? Of course you can.
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It's very simple.
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Just stand still. Prickles moved to the side of the room, made himself comfortable, took a deep breath, and then stood as still as he possibly could. A second later he had an itchy nose, so he gave it a little scratch. Then he took another deep breath and stood as still as he possibly could. Again, Whiskers stood next to Prickles and took a deep breath, just like his friend had done. Then the little rabbit stood as still as a statue, too. Their other friends noticed Prickles and Whiskers standing still and went over to ask what they were doing. Out of the corner of his mouth, Prickles said, we're pretending to be statues. If I don't move. Then I won't pop any balloons. Scamper, the squirrel said. Oh, that sounds like fun. Can we play too? Of course, prickles replied, trying his very best not to move his mouth too much. His nose twitched. It was itching again, but he didn't scratch it. The other animals formed a line next to Prickles and Whiskers. They shuffled about a bit first, but then took deep breaths and kept themselves as still as possible. The mums and dads looked confused when they saw how still their children were, but they didn't ask what they were doing. Instead, they made themselves a cup of tea and sat down for a while. Prickles gazed around the room and saw lots of big, beautiful balloons resting under tables and chairs.
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Some were as blue as the sea
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and others as red as strawberries. He would have smiled in happiness, but he was a statue, and statues didn't suddenly start smiling. The itch on his nose came back. He wriggled it ever so slightly as he tried to make it go away. His friends were doing a wonderful job at standing very still. Fudge the sloth was lying on the floor and looked like she'd actually fallen asleep, but she usually fell asleep at parties. The room had been decorated with twisting streamers and birthday banners, but Prickles didn't even notice because all he could think about was was the itch on his nose. The itch that wouldn't go away. But he would not scratch it. No way. Not him. He was a statue and he absolutely would not move. And then something happened. Prickles suddenly sneezed. It wasn't a quiet, gentle sneeze. It was an extremely loud sneeze. As if all the sneezes he would ever sneeze came out all at once. It was so loud and so sudden. The scamper the squirrel fell over and Whiskers the rabbit got hiccups. Fudge the sloth woke up and asked, what was that noise? She blinked tiredly and then went back to sleep. Bobble the badger put her hand over her mouth and started to giggle. Her lovely chuckle caused the other animals to start laughing too, and their merry laughter filled the room, causing the parents to start chuckling as well. Prickles began to laugh. He couldn't help it. And then something else happened. Out of nowhere, a blue balloon somehow found its way over to the little hedgehog and landed gently on his spikes. And then, pop.
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Yay. The animals cheered.
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Let's pop all the balloons. Prickles sighed gently. His plan hadn't worked, but he would think of a better one. Next time. And he did think of a better plan. A week later, it was Bobble the Badger's birthday, and as Prickles walked to her house, he couldn't help but smile proudly. His latest plan was a good one, a very good one. And he knew it would work. He arrived at the house and Bobble's grandma opened the door. Prickles said hello and gave her the present he'd brought. Thank you, Bobble's grandma said. She frowned. Is it cold outside? Prickles shook his head. No, it's warm. Oh, right. She frowned some more, but didn't ask about the weather again.
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Follow me.
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The party is this way. Prickles entered the party room. His friends saw him and waved hello. Some gave him curious looks but didn't say anything. Bobble came running over. Hi, Prickles. Hi, Bobble. Happy birthday. Thanks. She frowned at him and looked just like a smaller version of her grandma. Is it cold outside?
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No.
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Then why are you wearing a woolly hat? Prickles gave her a big grin. This is my latest plan. If any balloons land on my head, they won't pop.
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It's a thick hat and none of
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my spikes can stick through it. Have a feel. Bobble reached up and touched the hat. Yes, it is very thick.
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Aren't you warm?
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A bit, but I'll be ok. Are we going to play some party games? Bobble said. Yes, we're just about to start. It's musical chairs first. Prickles said. Great. My favourite. He lined up with his friends around a row of chairs. The music began and they started to move around the chairs. Prickles pulled at his hat. It felt heavy on his head, but he wasn't going to take it off. There were dozens and dozens of beautiful balloons around the room and he wasn't going to pop any of them. Round and round the chairs everyone went. The woolly hat felt heavier and heavier on Prickles head and it made him slower. When the music stopped, everyone moved forward. Prickles wasn't as quick as the others and he had to leave the game, but he didn't mind because he didn't have much energy left to finish the game. Wearing such a thick hat whilst jogging around the chairs was hard work. The little hedgehog took a seat at the side of the room and cheered
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his friends on as they finished the game.
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The birthday girl won and Prickles cheered the loudest for her. The young animals played other games and Prickles joined in for a while. But the hat was making it difficult for him to do much and he had to keep sitting down. But at Least he hadn't accidentally popped any balloons.
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Three had already landed on his head,
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but they had bounced lightly on the hat and then moved away. His plan was working. His friends noticed him sitting down and so decided to sit with him. Have the games finished? The little hedgehog asked. No, Bobble replied. But we wanted to sit with you. Why don't you take your hat off for a while? I can't.
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My plan is working.
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I haven't popped one single balloon. He smiled tiredly. I am feeling a bit sleepy, though. I think I'll go home now, if you don't mind. His friends asked him to stay, but Prickles kept yawning and yawning. He said goodbye to his friends and left the house. As soon as he was outside, he took off his heavy hat and gave his Prickles a good scratch. He walked home slowly, yawning all the time. Who knew that wearing such a heavy hat could make him so tired? As soon as he reached home, he took himself to bed and was fast asleep in minutes. Back at the party, his friends were still sitting together. Bobble said, poor Prickles. I think we should stop having balloons at our parties. Scamper the Squirrel shook her head. But he loves balloons. You've seen how he looks at them. And he might feel bad if we don't have them anymore just because he accidentally pops them sometimes. The others agreed with Scamper. Bobble sighed. There must be something we can do. I love Prickles, and I love having him at our parties. The animals sat quietly and thought about how they might help their lovely friend. It was Luna, the little white owl, who came up with a solution. She flapped her wings excitedly and said, oh, I've got an idea. I read something recently in one of my science books and I think it might help. The animals smiled fondly at their owl friend. Luna loved reading and she knew lots of interesting facts. Luna said we should fill the balloons with a special gas called helium. It makes the balloons lighter than air and they float high in the sky. If we had those special balloons, they'd be so high above Prickles that they
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wouldn't touch his spikes.
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Luna pulled out a small book from beneath her wings. She always had a book or two tucked there just in case she wanted something to read. Luna opened the book and showed them a picture of some helium filled balloons. There was also a photograph of a smiling bear who was looking up at some balloons as they floated high above his head. It's like magic, Bobble said. Where can we get that special gas? Luna didn't know. But she called her dad over to see if he could help. When Luna told him about Prickles and her idea, her father said, I know where to get some from. Mr. Bumble has bottles of helium in his shop and he's got lots of balloons too. If you like, I can go there now and get some. The little animals cheered and said, thank you. Some of the other parents heard what was going on and they went to Mr. Bumble's shop with Luna's father to help him carry everything. Meanwhile, Bobble and the others came up with a wonderful idea for Prickles. They agreed it was the best idea in the whole world and knew their friend would like it. Not too long later, Prickles friends gathered outside his home. Some of their parents were there too. Bobble the badger knocked on the door and waited for Prickles to answer it. She grinned over her shoulder at her friends. The knock woke Prickles from his nap. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head. He wondered who was at the door. Maybe it was Bobble to tell him about the wonderful birthday party she'd had. He smiled. He hoped she'd had an amazing time and his friends too. Still smiling, Prickles opened the door. Bobble was there. So were all his other friends too. And her parents were there as well. Prickles wasn't sure why they were all there, but he opened his door wider and invited them in. His house was only little, but he would find room for them all. Bobble said, thank you, but we don't want to go inside your home. We want you to come out and join a special party. Prickles scratched his head in confusion. Party? Whose party? His friends called out. You party, Prickles. It's a surprise party. The little hedgehog was was too stunned to speak. He came out of his home and looked around his garden. There were balloons everywhere, but there was something different about them. The big beautiful balloons were bobbing gently in the air and each one was tied by a long string to something in his garden. Prickles pointed to a gold coloured balloon and said, why is it floating like that?
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Is it magic?
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Almost, Bobble said. She told him about the special gas and how it made the balloons float in the air. She said it was Luna's idea, but tying the balloons to strings had been hers because she didn't want the lovely balloons to float away to the sky when no one could see them. Prickles slowly turned around and took in the amazing sight. Beautiful balloons were absolutely everywhere, tied to the fence and his garden furniture, his shed and his swing set. Even on Top of the slide, a beautiful rainbow arch of balloons had been tied between two trees. It looked like a rainbow had drifted from the sky and come to rest in his garden. Prickles heart was so full of love that he didn't know what to say for a whole minute. A big smile broke out on his face and he said, thank you. Thank you so much. This is so kind of you, but it isn't my birthday for months yet. Scamper the squirrel put her arm carefully around his spiky shoulders. This isn't a birthday party. It's a party to say how much we love you. We know how much you like balloons and how you've tried so hard not to pop them. But we don't think you should have
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to change to fit in at parties.
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We love you just the way you are, with all your wonderful Prickles. And from now on, we'll all have these special balloons at our parties. Prickles smiled at his friend and said, thank you again.
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He couldn't take his eyes off the
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beautiful balloons as they bobbed gently in the breeze. Not only had his friends brought the balloons, they had also brought lots of party food with them, too. They had set the food out on picnic blankets at the bottom of Prickles Garden. He'd been too busy gazing at the balloons, and he hadn't even noticed the food until Scamper took him by the paw and led him over to it. Prickles and his friends had a wonderful time at the surprise party. They enjoyed the delicious party food and played lots of fun games. They stayed for hours and not one single balloon popped. The sky grew dark and stars began to twinkle. The full moon appeared and shone down on the little animals, many of whom were yawning. The parents said it was time to go home. Prickles friends said goodbye and went on their way. A little hedgehog stayed in the garden, looking at the balloons in wonder. More stars appeared in the night sky. Prickles yawned and yawned again. He was tired and ready for his bed. He'd had a wonderful day with his kind friends. Moonbeams shone down from the night sky and danced over the glistening balloons. Prickles smiled sleepily. He felt like he was in a balloon. Dreamland. He moved over to a tree and untied a silver balloon. He held it high and then released it. The silver balloon floated upwards and towards the moon, its string waving goodbye to the little hedgehog. Prickles waved back. He whispered to the moon, that balloon is for you. Good night, Prickles. The hedgehog went into his home and snuggled down in his cozy Warm bed. And just as the silver balloon had drifted gently to the moon, the little hedgehog drifted gently to sleep.
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This is Slow Mo and the secret soccer mascot by Elisha Ainslie. With a winning season under their belt, the Sleepy Forest soccer team were a triumph. The players were all well renowned throughout Sleepy Forest. Sort of like celebrities. Everybody wanted their autographs and to have photos taken with them. The players could barely make it past 10 trees without getting spotted and being approached by an adoring fan. The talented soccer players lives had changed a lot, especially the goalkeepers. Slo Mo. Slow Mo was a sloth who had spent the majority of his life lazing away in his tree peacefully at the edge of Sleepy Forest. He used to spend most of his days simply sleeping, eating and crawling. He lived a very relaxing life. There was a far cry from the energetic soccer pitch he now spent the majority of his time on. But Mo didn't mind. Mo absolutely adored soccer and he couldn't wait for the new soccer season to begin. The Sleepy Forest soccer team had enjoyed a little break from playing for a while. Since the last soccer season ended, they had enjoyed a few of resting their bodies, soothing their muscles and regaining their energy through lots of sleep. But now their leader, Coach Chase the Cheetah, had decided that it was time to get back on the pitch. They had a lot to prove. Now that they were the official champions of the soccer league, they couldn't let their guard down and become complacent. Coach Chase wanted them to train twice as much and twice as hard. Luckily, Coach Chase's strict approach worked wonders. From the moment the Sleepy Forest soccer team stepped foot on the pitch for their first game of the new season against the Quabbling Quills, it was clear that the team was stronger than ever. The Sleepy Forest animals beat the birds that played for the quabbling quills 5 nil. They scored 5 goals while the poor birds couldn't even get one strike past slo Mo's impressive goalkeeping. At the end of their first winning match, Nora the Greyhound, the team's fastest sprinter, proclaimed, I think we might win again this season. We played so well today. Every member of the squad agreed that their teamwork had been exemplary on the field and they had played quite magnificently. The crowds watching clearly agreed too. As they cheered from the stands, Ozzy the ostrich boasted, those Quabbling Quills didn't stand a chance against Lionel's fancy footwork. Kylie the kangaroo added, or Slow Mo's long defensive arms in the goal. The team chuckled and Patted each other on the back encouragingly. All of a sudden, the team heard a voice from across the field, soaring up above the roar of the crowd, reciting a jaunty rhyme. The voice cheered. Who's the best? Sleepy Forest? Who's the best Sleepy Forest? The crowd automatically started joining in with the chant and within a few seconds everyone everybody in the stands was chanting in unison. Who's the best Sleepy Forest? To the Sleepy Forest team's surprise, somebody wearing a big bulky purple furry costume was standing at the edge of the pitch in front of the crowd. The mysterious character danced along happily, encouraging the crowd to keep chanting before performing a backflip along the ground. The crowd went wild and started cheering and applauding with delight. The performer gave a flourish and took a bow with gratitude. Who was that? Ozzy the ostrich asked with intrigue. I have no idea. They are wearing a costume, Dakota the dinosaur replied. Did you set them up to this, Coach Lionel the lemur asked, turning to Chase. But Coach Chase shook his head, confused. He was just as surprised by this new mascot as they were. The mysterious creature in the big bulky purple furry costume had arranged it all themself. The Sleepy Forest soccer team were a little puzzled by the mascot's surprise appearance, but they welcomed their presence. Slo Mo wanted to thank the mascot and made his way across the soccer pitch. But by the time he got to the other side, the mascot had disappeared and the crowds were beginning to leave the stands and surround Mo, asking him for an autograph. Mo was disappointed not to get the chance to thank the secret mascot, but he didn't need to wait long to get the opportunity again. The secret mascot started turning up to all of the Sleepy Forest soccer team's games. Every time the secret mascot appeared at a game, the crowds watching became even more vocal and the Sleepy Forest soccer team felt even more confident. This secret mascot knew exactly how to warm up the crowds and they had tonnes of different chants and rhymes up their furry purple sleeves. Still, nobody in the Sleepy Forest team seemed to know who it was beneath the costume. The Sleepy Forest soccer squad played against several different teams, such as the Mystical Mightys, the Burrowing warriors and the Dashing Dinos. And every single team commented on how good the Sleepy Forest team's mascot was. All the other teams wanted to get one for themselves too. The Sleepy Forest squad smiled and agreed that their mascot was pretty superb. However, none of them admitted that they had no idea who it was that was cheering for them at their game against the Rainbow Raiders. The Sleepy Forest squad felt their confidence slip a little. For the first time, the miniature leprechauns on the other team were light on their feet and they were giving the Sleepy Forest squad a run for their money. As half time approached, the team were growing tired and the score was a tie. Both teams had scored a goal each. At the halftime whistle, the two teams retreated to the sidelines to take a break and discuss a plan of action for the second half of the game. Meanwhile, the secret mascot entertained the crowds. The mascot was singing lots of new chants today, all about the different players in the Sleepy Forest team and how amazing each one of them was. The observing crowd cheered and joined in with the mascot, absolutely loving their halftime show. The Sleepy Forest secret mascot was a hit. The crowds couldn't get enough of them, and the Sleepy Forest squad were appreciative of the show, too. Sitting on the sideline, Lyanna the lioness listened to the mascot chant all about her and exclaimed with a smile, wow. I feel amazing about myself now. I feel like there's nothing I can't do. Coach Chase explained that that was the point of a mascot. They were there to boost everybody's morale, rile up the crowd and encourage the team to go on even when the going got tough. Liana replied, well, I'm glad we have a mascot then. I think they're wonderful. Slo Mo took a sip of water and gazed across the field watching the mascot. They really were something special. The mascot's large, fluffy suit was eye catching, and the dance routines they performed along with their energetic rhymes were dazzling. As he watched, there was one question burning inside Mo's mind. Who was behind the mask? Who was the secret mascot? As the teams headed out onto the pitch for the second half of the game, the Sleepy Forest squad felt a confidence boost. Thanks to the secret mascot's rhymes of encouragement, they went on to defeat the Rainbow Raiders by two points. And the Sleepy Forest team had never been more grateful to their secret mascot. They knew that they wouldn't have won if they hadn't had their own cheerleader in their corner. This time, Slo Mo was determined to thank the secret mascot for all they did and tried to move as fast as he could across the pitch to reach them before they went away. However, his slovenly legs could only go so fast and the mascot scurried away before Mo could reach them. Mo sighed and sat down on the grass.
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How will I ever find out who
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Host
is beneath the suit? He asked himself defeatedly. Mo looked around and noticed how everyone was departing the soccer Grounds to go home. Whoever the secret mascot was was doing the same thing. When their next game of the season came round, Mo decided he would be ready for the secret mascot. He would find out once and for all who was behind the mask. The day of the next big game between the Sleepy Forest soccer team and the Platinum Penguins came around and slo Mo couldn't take his eyes off the sidelines. He was looking out for their secret mascot. As the game began, Mo couldn't see the mascot anywhere and he was beginning to wonder whether the mascot had given up on them. But after about 10 minutes, Mo's ears pricked up at the familiar sound of the mascot's catchy rhymes. He looked to the stands and saw their mysterious purple furry friend dancing around performing somersaults and cartwheels, showing off a fresh array of rhymes and chants that got the crowd going. Mo watched the mascot from his goal and enjoyed the show. Whilst the rest of the team tackled, swerved and dribbled around the Platinum Penguins on the other side of the pitch. Just as their secret mascot performed a high kick, Mo spotted something he'd never noticed before. Out of the back of the mascot suit peeped a tail. A thin, scaly, multicolored tail. Mo gasped with realisation. He suddenly knew exactly who was beneath the suit. Mo smiled to himself and and hatched a plan. As the half time whistle blew, Slow Mo moved as fast as he could across the soccer pitch. Usually he would attempt to meet the mascot at the end of the game when the mascot was fleeing the grounds. However, at half time, the mascot always stuck around to perform an interval show. Mo would catch the mascot off guard and find out once and for all if his theory was right. He wanted to know exactly who was in the suit. Mo reached the edge of the pitch and approached the mascot feeling quite out of breath. He hadn't moved this fast the whole game so far. The Sleepy Forest mascot was busy performing a victory chant and Mo noticed that the scaly rainbow coloured tail were still poking out of the back of the suit through a hole. When the mascot had finished their chant, Mo tapped them on the shoulder and the mascot turned around. With pleasant surprise, the mascot raised their padded furry arms into the air and cried out with glee. It's Slow Mo. The crowd started to chant. Slow Mo. Slow Mo. Slow Mo. Slow Mo. As the mascot held one of Slow Mo's long gangly arms up into the air with triumph, Mo blushed. He wasn't used to so much attention being on him, but it was flattering nonetheless. Mo lowered his arm and placed it around the mascot's purple padded shoulders and whispered into their ear, thank you for the cheers, but I came over because I wanted to celebrate you and your amazing performances every game. Can we talk privately for a moment? The mascot nodded their big round head and led Mo behind the stands. As soon as they both stepped away from the crowds and retreated underneath the tall stands, the roar of the busy crowds faded away and the air fell still out of the beaming light of the sun. They were covered in cooling shade and the whole atmosphere felt much more relaxing. Here, Mo and the mascot could speak in peace and quiet. So what did you want to talk about, Mo? The mascot asked with enthusiasm, tilting their head from side to side. Comically, Mo replied with a smile, can we speak face to face? The mascot laughed and said, we are face to face. But Mo slowly shook his head and reiterated, I mean, can you take off your mask so we can speak face to face? The mascot paused with doubt. It was clear that they didn't want to take off their costume. Mo took a guess at who he thought was beneath the suit and added, I know it's you, Camo. You don't have to hide anymore. The mascots stood up straight with surprise and then lifted their padded hands up to their head, pulling off the mast to reveal who was beneath was indeed Camo the Chameleon. Mo was right. How did you know it was me? Camo asked with surprise. Mo explained that he could see his rainbow coloured tail poking out of a hole in the back of his costume. Besides, he would know that tail anywhere. Oh dear. Camo giggled, his scaly skin beginning to blush pink. I'll have to fix that before I go back out onto the field. Mo was confused. Why did Camo feel like he had to wear a costume he didn't need to hide away? He should be shouting loud and proud in his own incredible skin. Not a fake padded one? Mo prodded. But why? Why do you need a costume, Camo? Camo admitted shyly, I don't feel confident enough to perform without my costume and my mask. If everyone knew that it was me running around chanting and dancing, they might all laugh at me. Mo reassured Camo that nobody would laugh at him. In fact, everyone would think he was even more amazing than they already thought he was. If Camo went out without his costume on, he would finally be able to take credit for his amazing work. Instead of hiding behind a mask, Camo twisted his padded suit fingers and his skin turned grey. He wasn't so sure. Mo felt sorry for the Young Chameleon. The little guy just didn't realise just how impressive he was. But it wasn't for Mo to decide what Camo should do. Camo needed to make his own decisions. Mo heard the whistle signalling that the second half of the soccer game was about to begin and he started to leave at his slow, slow pace. As he moved, Mo said to Camo, don't worry about it, Camo. Everybody loves you out there. Whether you wear your mascot costume or or just your own rainbow coloured skin, keep being you, Camo. The chameleon watched Mo return to the soccer field to take his place. Back in the goal, Camo held the mascot mask in his hands and sighed. It was more difficult dancing and performing acrobatic tricks in this big bulky suit and it got terribly hot beneath the sun. Plus, Camo had to push his voice to be heard from behind the mask that covered his mouth. Cheering the Sleepy Forest team on would be much easier without the costume. But was Camo ready to ditch the facade and reveal to everyone in Sleepy Forest that it was really him behind the suit? The second half of the game began and Camo watched the players run around the pitch chasing the soccer ball. As the crowd cheered from the stands above Camo's head, Camo felt torn. A part of him wanted to ditch the mask and run back outside without a care in the world, while the other part of him wanted to stay hidden beneath the costume and continue as he had been doing up until now. Unable to decide between the two, Camo decided it was easier to just stay out of sight beneath the crowd seats and watch the rest of their game from his hiding spot. All of a sudden, Camo noticed that the crowd was beginning to recite a chant of their own. It was one he didn't recognise. He listened closely and as more and more Sleepy Forest residents started to join in, he made out their words loud and clear. We want the mascot. We want the mascot. We want the mascot. They all chanted. Camo was surprised and let out a little laugh. They all wanted him to come back out. Camo didn't want to disappoint the crowd and he certainly didn't want to let the soccer team down. He put his mask back on and started to secure it in place. When he realised that it was sticky and felt very uncomfortable. Why was he forcing himself to wear it? Camo pulled the mask back off and discarded it on the floor. He listened to the crowd continuing to chant. We want the mascot. We want the mascot. Camo took a deep breath. Would they want him as much as they wanted the mascot. Would everyone like his performance without the costume? Well, there was only one way to find out. Camo unzipped his costume and stepped out of it. He sighed with relief and felt a weight lift off his shoulders as the cool air washed over his scaly skin. It felt wonderful to be free at the costume, and he watched as the grey tinge of his skin disappeared and was replaced by his usual beautiful multicolored stripes. He smiled to himself and gazed out across the soccer field with determination. It was time to show everyone who the secret mascot really was. Camo ran out from under the stands, encouraged by the crowd's chanting, and instantly started somersaulting, cartwheeling and backflipping his way across the grass in front of the crowd. They all burst into applause and cheered with delight. Their beloved mascot was back, but this time they looked even better than ever. Camo's skin glittered and twinkled as he chanted and rhymed and the crowd shouted along with him. He performed his dances and jumped up and down with excitement, encouraging the Sleepy Forest soccer team to keep going even when the Platinum Penguins scored a goal against them. But thanks to Camo the Chameleon's cheerleading, the team managed to power through and score two more goals of their own. Camo's scaly skin shone brighter than ever, and he felt amazing as the crowd cheered his name. Camo. Camo. Camo. As the game came to an end, the Sleepy Forest soccer team had won once more, and the crowd went wild. It seemed there was no stopping the team, and Camo led the crowd in a victory cheer. Unexpectedly, when the game was over and the crowd started to leave, Camo found himself swarmed by dozens of fans asking him for his autograph and wanting pictures with him. Camo, I can't believe that's you.
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They all exclaimed.
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You were incredible. I didn't know you had it in you. Everybody had so many kind things to say about Camo's performance, and the young chameleon grinned from cheek to cheek. Nobody minded that he wasn't in his mascot costume. In fact, everyone seemed to love him even more now that he was just being himself. Camo looked to Mo across the soccer pitch and gave him a thumbs up. Mo sat down in his goal and offered the little chameleon a thumbs up back. Camo had taken a risk today, and it had paid off big time. Camo continued to attend every soccer game that the Sleepy Forest soccer team played that season, but from now on, he didn't wear a costume. His radiant rainbow skin was eye catching enough to please the crowds, along with his exuberant, talented performances. Every game. Slo Mo watched Camo from the goal and smiled contentedly. It was very special seeing Camo finally so confident in his own skin and sharing his skills with the forest unashamedly. Camo had never looked so dazzling and his joy was infectious. He made everyone around him feel better, and that was a very special trait to have indeed.
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Sam. Sa.