← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Bernice and the Ruined Painting 🐻
00:12:07
A short bedtime story for kids featuring Bernice the bear
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Foreign. And welcome to Sleep Tight Stories. Bernice is finally going to be able to sit down and work on her art for Mother's Day. It has been a very busy week, and every time Bernice thinks she can get started, she is too tired. Or there is something else to do. When she finally gets started, Cookie is nearby and that is always a good sign. Bernice and the Ruined Painting. It was Saturday, and Bernice finally had some time to work on her art. Not just any art, either. She was making a painting for Mama, and she'd been trying to find time to do it all week. How come the end of this school year is so busy? She muttered to herself every afternoon. Something had gotten in the way. After school, science and math, then running practice, then swimming. By the time she got home she'd been so tired that not even Papa's cookies could make a difference, though she ate them anyway, of course. So she set up her easel and propped up the small canvas she'd already sketched on a flower in light pencil, just waiting for paint. She had thought about getting Mama real flowers for Mother's Day with Papa's help, or making a card like she used to when she was little. She'd even considered making breakfast, except that the last time she tried the pancakes had come out either too dry or or too wet. Mama ate them anyway and said they were delicious, which was very Mama of her. Cookie was sitting beside the easel, which Bernice took as a good sign. Cookie was her muse. So what do you think so far? I know it's just a sketch, but eventually, with your expert help, it's going to be a beautiful flower. We paint flowers and stuff all the time in art class, so I'm pretty sure this will be great, cookie replied by curling into a ball and closing her eyes. Ha ha ha, laughed Bernice. I guess you think it's great so far. She arranged her paints in exactly the right order, set her brushes out, filled her water cup, and placed her cleaning cloth where she could reach it without looking. She was ready. For a while, everything went perfectly. The yellow was just the right shade, and the petals were coming out better than she'd hoped. She leaned in to add a careful line of orange along one edge, and then Cookie stretched. It wasn't a big stretch, just the usual kind, the slow, full body one that she does all the time, which usually leads to her rolling onto her back for a belly rub. But Cookie hit the easel not hard, just a little hard, and maybe Bernice hadn't set it up carefully enough because it moved and slipped and the water cup jiggled hard like it was going to tip over. So Bernice tried to catch it but instead hit it, causing a wave of muddy water to splash across the canvas. She grabbed the cleaning cloth, but it was too late. The flower was was gone. In its place was a gray blur with a few sad streaks of yellow poking through. Bernice stared at it for a long moment. This was the only canvas she had. Cookie rolled over again and resumed her nap. Cookie, bernice said quietly. That was my painting. After cleaning up the mess and putting her paints away, Bernice walked slowly downstairs to the kitchen, where Papa Bear was drinking coffee and reading a book. Finished already, Little Bear? Papa Bear asked. Bernice sighed. No, Papa. Something horrible happened and I don't have another canvas and I don't have much time anyway because it's already afternoon and Mama will be home soon and now I have nothing to give her because I made a mistake and a mess. Papa Bear carefully set his book down. Oh no. What happened? He asked. Cookie bumped my easel and I guess I didn't set it up properly and the water started to jiggle and I tried to catch it, but then I splashed muddy water all over the painting and ruined the flower I had almost finished, and now I have nothing to give Mama for Mother's Day, and that can't be good, right? Well, that is unfortunate. And I'm sure Cookie didn't mean to bump your easel. Mistakes happen. I don't blame her, Papa, bernice said quietly. It was just an accident. And besides, she's my bestest friend and would never do something like that on purpose. I just don't know what to give Mama now. I don't want her to be disappointed. Papa Bear smiled. Bernice, your mama is not going to be disappointed. But I wanted to do something special. And you did, papa Bear said. Bernice frowned a little. I did? You spent all week thinking about her, papa Bear replied. You used your free time trying to make something beautiful because you love her. That matters more than the painting itself. Bernice looked down at the table. But now there's nothing. Papa Bear shook his head gently. There is always something, Little Bear. Sometimes the most important gifts are not things at all. Bernice thought about that. They aren't? No, papa Bear said. Your mama loves your hugs, your stories, your drawings and your silly jokes and the things you do. She loves spending time with you. Those things matter much more than a perfect painting. I guess Mama did eat my terrible pancakes that time. Papa Bear laughed. She certainly did. And she said they were delicious. She did. Bernice smiled just a little. So maybe, Papa Bear continued, instead of worrying about giving your mama the perfect gift, you could simply remind her how much you love her. Bernice leaned against the table and thought quietly. I could give her a really big hug, she said. I think she would love that. And maybe make her a card instead, Bernice added. I might have nice paper, and I could paint a card or use markers or something like that. I think that sounds perfect. The next morning, Bernice came downstairs early with her card, a miniature version of the flower written in her neatest handwriting, which was pretty neat, she thought. She wouldn't have been able to sleep in even if she wanted to. The house smelled yummy, delicious. Papa Bear must have been up early making honey cakes for Mama's Day. Mama Bear was already in the kitchen with her coffee, and when she saw Bernice she opened her arms, which Bernice walked straight into. Happy Mother's Day, Mama, she said and handed her the card. Mama Bear looked at it for a while, then pulled Bernice in for another hug. I saw you working on your canvas this week, mama said quietly. Bernice looked up. You did? I see everything, mama Bear said, which made Bernice laugh. The painting got ruined. Cookie bumped the easel. I heard, said Mama Bear. She smoothed the card carefully and held it to her chest. I love this, she said. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.