← Stories Podcast: A Bedtime Show for Kids of All Ages
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- [00:01]
Amanda Weldon
Hello. Welcome to Stories Podcast. I'm your host, Amanda Weldon.
- [00:07]
Stories Podcast Announcer
Today's story is a throwback episode.
- [00:10]
Amanda Weldon
Tune in to hear one of our
- [00:11]
Stories Podcast Announcer
classic stories from the archive that you
- [00:13]
Amanda Weldon
might have missed the first time around. We have Stories Podcast merch, available@storiespodcast.com shop. We're also on cameo for all of your personalized video message needs.
- [00:24]
Stories Podcast Announcer
And don't forget to follow us on
- [00:25]
Amanda Weldon
Instagram Stories Podcast if you send us a drawing of your favorite scene or character, we'll share it on our feed. Now, here's a word from our sponsors
- [00:36]
Stories Podcast Announcer
these days I'm all about quality over quantity, especially in my closet. If it's not well made and versatile, it's just not worth it to me. That's why I love Quince. The fabrics feel elevated, the cuts are thoughtful, and the pricing actually makes sense. Quince uses 100% European linen. Their cotton poplin is crisp and holds its shape. The gauze is soft without being flimsy. Their lightweight cotton cashmere sweaters are perfect for the changing seasons. Versatile, well made pieces that make getting dressed simple. Everything Quince makes is built to hold up season after season. The stitching, the fit, the fabrics. These are pieces you'll reach for over and over. Speaking of over and over, you've heard me talk about it before, but I can't say enough good things about my featherless, quilted long puffer coat that I got from Quince a few months ago. Spring is right around the corner, but it doesn't feel like it right now in the Northeast. I am still wearing my cozy Quince coat every day with no end in sight and it is really holding up. My favorite thing of all is that Quints works directly with safe, ethical factories and cuts out the middlemen. You're not paying for brand markup or fancy retail stores, just quality clothing right now. Go to quince.com stories for free shipping and 365 day returns. That's a full year to wear it and love it. And you will. Now available in Canada too. Don't keep settling for clothes that don't last. Go to quincy.com stories for free shipping and 365 day returns. Quince.com stories I am always on a journey to make my home work better for me and my family, and Wayfair makes it easy to find exactly what fits my style and needs. The decor in my home has always been what one might call eclectic, which is a nice way of saying none of my stuff really goes together. For the most part, my furniture has always been a combination of hand me downs from family, friends, thrift store finds, and side of the road scores. But I've been wanting to streamline my aesthetic and Wayfair has really made it possible for me to hone in on what I like. And it turns out what I like is whimsical fairy princess decor. At least in my daughter's bedroom anyway. When I searched for children's bedroom furniture on Wayfair, I immediately found what I was looking for and got my daughter an adorable bed shaped like a house with a canopy on top. There were actually a few variations available and I was able to find one that fit our space and budget perfectly. It came in the mail super fast and was really easy to put together and feels really solid and safe now that it's all in one piece, just like all the five star reviews said it would. I love the way it looks, but more importantly, Birdie loves the way it looks and bedtime has been just a little bit easier since her new bed arrived. Find furniture, decor and essentials that fit your unique style and budget. Head to Wayfair.com right now to search all things home. That's W-A-Y-F-A-I-R.com Wayfair Every style, every home
- [03:33]
Amanda Weldon
thanks. Enjoy the episode White Dough Fairy Dough Once upon a time, in the fairytale depths of old France, a hunter was stalking through the forest. His name was Declan and he moved silent as starlight. His every step was gentle as a landing bird, his eyes sharp as broken flint. He had been learning to hunt for his whole life, training at trapping with his father and woodcraft with his mother. But his favorite thing to learn was the bow and arrow. His father's bow was an ancient thing, so large it took an adult's strength to pull its string. Declan spent his childhood in awe of that bow, looking at it like a priest would a sacred relic. It was a beautiful instrument, able to feed a family, and every year on his birthday, Declan would try and pull it back to fire a single arrow. Year after year he failed. Young arms trembled with effort before admitting defeat. But just last month, after years of trying, he finally succeeded. He pulled back the string and the arrow flew true into the target. His parents both cheered and hugged him close. That arrow meant for the first time he was ready to hunt alone. And there he was, pushing through the dense trees, his father's bow strung and ready. Enjoying his newfound freedom, he went west with the sun. He had packed enough supplies for a three day hunt, but he prayed he would get something before then, in his mind, he refused to return empty handed from his first solo hunt. That first day slunk by like an old dog, slow and anxious, Declan found himself so eager for game that he accidentally loosed an arrow at a vaguely deer shaped stump. Embarrassing, but at least he hid it. And no one was around to see his mistake. And finally, as daylight dwindled, he saw his prey. It was a female deer, what they called a doe, and she was so beautiful she took his breath away. Her coat had not a whisper of color, not even a sigh of wheat or coffee or honeyed browns. No, she was pale as the moon, white as the stars, and blazed like winter lightning after just a glimpse. The boy knew that no other deer would do. She was too beautiful, and he had to have her. She danced away through the trees, light as laughter. Declan looked up at the horizon. The sun was gone now, nothing more than a red water smear along the treetops. Hunting at night was dangerous, but he couldn't bear the thought of losing the doe. He pushed ahead, following the hoofprints in the forest loam. Soon it was full dark and the moon was barely a hangnail in the sky. Declan knew it was foolish, but he pressed on anyway. He took careful step after careful step. But the wild woods are treacherous at night, no matter how careful a boy may be. Following the white doe's tracks by the edge of a stream, he stepped on what looked like a solid rock. It wasn't. There was a grating roar that Declan felt in his teeth. With a spray of loose dirt and sand, the rock tumbled down the river's bank and Declan tumbled with it. He slid for a few feet and then fell into the open air. With a yelp, he threw out his hands and felt them sink into the mercifully sandy shore. His legs hit a second later, though, and a bright line of pain shot up from his calf. For a minute he could only lay there, panting, bleeding, cursing. Stupid, he told himself. Stupid to hunt at night. Stupid to be so close to the river's edge. What had he been thinking? But he knew he'd been thinking of the white doe. And when he remembered, for one mad moment, he wanted to rise and chase her again. The pain, though. The pain was rising from a nag to a dull roar. How bad was it? Declan wondered. He rolled onto his back and propped himself up against the riverbank. He was scraped and bruised all over, but his calf was the worst of it. It had landed on a stone that jutted out from the riverbank like a snarled tooth and it had bitten him deeply. It was too dark to see how bad it truly was, though. All Declan could do was bandage it with a spare shirt from his pack and hope that the bleeding would stop. At least his bow and arrows were okay. He tried to rise to his feet again and stumbled back to the ground, groaning in pain. His leg was too tender to hold his weight. He tried again and managed it, only with a lot of sweating and snarling. It wasn't easy, but he found he could walk along the riverbed if he kept one hand leaning on the bank. It was a fairly wide river, rich with fish and game, which meant people would live somewhere along it. He was bound to run into some sooner or later, and he could hopefully trade for some real bandages. He hobbled along in the dark for a couple hours. It wasn't long before he could feel the blood welling out of his bandage and rolling down into his boots. Finally, just when he was starting to look for a handy place to sleep along the water, he stumbled upon a little cabin in the forest. It was the sort of cabin you see deep in the woods sometimes, the ones built by no one in particular and used by whatever passing hunters or hikers happened by. This one was well kept enough, all tight timbers and pitch. There was a stone chimney, too, and the smoke curling from its mouth surely meant someone was inside. Normally Declan would have knocked, but the hour was late and he surely looked terrifying, all bloody and muddy like he was. Instead, he settled for putting up his lean to against the outer wall and re bandaging his calf with his only other shirt. The blood had finally stopped, but the wound looked purple and ugly. Exhausted, he fell into a fitful sleep. In his dreams, the white doe danced. Boy, you boy. Came a sing songy voice. Are you okay? Do you need some help? Declan woke up slowly. His calf throbbed in deep, slow cycles. Ugh, he managed to mumble. His tongue felt like sand in his mouth. A wooden cup was pressed into his hands. He tilted it and gulped gratefully at the cool, sweet water. Chill rivulets blazed clean trails down his muddy chin. Thank you, he said, propping himself up. He was looking at a girl about his own age. She looked strong, corded with muscles, and her long pale hair spilled down her back. Why don't we go inside the trail cabin here, she said. I can take a look at that cut if you'd like. He nodded and she helped him to his feet and through the mostly level doorway. Inside, the cabin had a few bunks built into the wall and some wooden chairs gathered around the stone fireplace. Declan fell into one of the chairs, propping his injured leg up on another. I'm not as good as my mother, the girl said, opening a cloth bag from the nearest bunk, but I know a little bit of herblore for medicine. She took out a leaf that blushed red at the edges and a waxy looking cluster of berries. She crushed them into a piece of linen and then picked up a pail of water and handed it to Declan. Here, clean your cut off and I'll put a bandage on for you. He took the pail and a piece of cloth and tenderly washed away the mud from his cut. It was ugly and deep, but thankfully didn't have the swollen red look of an infection.
- [12:25]
Stories Podcast Announcer
Now for a quick ad break. We'll be back with the rest of the story after this. If you'd like Stories Podcast and other favorite kid podcasts ad free. Subscribe to Wondery Kids on Apple Podcasts these days I'm all about quality over quantity, especially in my closet. If it's not well made and versatile, it's just not worth it to me. That's why I love Quince. The fabrics feel elevated, the cuts are thoughtful, and the pricing actually makes sense. Quince uses 100% European linen. Their cotton poplin is crisp and holds its shape. The gauze is soft without being flimsy. Their lightweight cotton cashmere sweaters are perfect for the changing seasons. Versatile, well made pieces that make getting dressed simple. Everything Quince makes is built to hold up season after season. The stitching, the fit, the fabrics. These are pieces you'll reach for over and over. Speaking of over and over, you've heard me talk about it before, but I can't say enough good things about my featherless, quilted long puffer coat that I got from Quince a few months ago. Spring is right around the corner, but it doesn't feel like it right now in the Northeast. I am still wearing my cozy Quince coat every day with no end in sight and it is really holding up. My favorite thing of all is that Quince works directly with safe, ethical factories and cuts out the middlemen. You're not paying for brand markup or fancy retail stores, just quality clothing right now. Go to quince.com stories for free shipping and 365 day returns. That's a full year to wear it and love it. And you will now available in Canada too. Don't keep settling for clothes that don't last. Go to quince.com stories for free shipping and 365 day returns. Quints.com stories have you ever had a time when your kid is screaming and crying, throwing up and running a fever and you just realized you're completely out of Baby Tylenol and Pedialyte? I have, and that's why I use Doordash. Being a person is hard enough these days, let alone a parent. No matter how hard you plan or how prepared you try to be, sometimes life with kids gets a little chaotic. Real life needs real relief. That's why doordash is there for whatever you need whenever you need it. For those days when everyone is sick and you're completely out of tissues and NyQuil. Or the days when your kid lets you know at the last minute that they have a project due tomorrow and you can't find any glue sticks in the entire house? Or when you've been running from gymnastics to play rehearsal to hockey practice and everyone is exhausted and needs a little treat? Doordash is there when life happens. Get a little order delivered with DoorDash order now.
- [15:03]
Amanda Weldon
Thank you so much, he said. My name is Declan, by the way. What's yours? The girl finished crushing the ingredients into the linen, added a pinch of moldy bread from her bag, and then slapped it onto his cut. Me. Call me Amelie, she said, tying the bandage in place. Finished, she started putting her things back in the bag. Well, thank goodness you were here, Amelie, he said. I was chasing after this doe last night like a fool and slipped down the riverbank. She froze in the middle of folding up her linens. Oh, a hunter, are you?
- [15:40]
Stories Podcast Announcer
She asked.
- [15:41]
Amanda Weldon
What made you try and chase a deer at night? It wasn't just any deer. She was white as a ghost. It was like she was glowing. I had to have her. Have her? Like, for dinner? Declan laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. Yeah, I guess so. You ever see something so beautiful, so perfect, you just feel like you need it? Like maybe you deserve it? Even my family forages, she said. We move around a lot and live off the land. We don't hunt. And I don't really keep anything besides my bag with a few herbs, I don't really see a reason. There's nothing I truly need that I can't find out there. She gestured broadly at the forest around the cabin. Declan's stomach grumbled. Well, right now I'm thinking I truly need to have some food, he said. From his bag, he pulled a mostly uncrushed wheel of cheese. You maybe want to show me a few plants that are good to eat around here. I'll trade you some of my Mother's cheese. Everyone says she makes the best there is north of Paris. Well, my dad says it anyway. Amelie smiled and agreed. That day she showed him how to dig for wild onions and tell the tasty berries apart from the poison. She showed him which mushrooms were good raw, which were good cooked, and which would kill you no matter how you ate them. Declan followed her pale, swishing hair eagerly, always happy to know more about the woods. At the end of the day, he had a burlap sack full of edible greens. Amelie said goodbye at the cabin, saying she had to catch up with her family. By that point it was almost dark, so Declan decided to sleep on one of the bunks. But first, as the sun was setting, he took up his bow and arrow and headed back into the woods. Try as he might, he couldn't get the beautiful white doe out of his mind. He had to have her, like an animal. Heeding some baser instinct, he pushed into the woods. If pressed to explain it, he wouldn't have been able to say why. Something had snared his spirit, and it pulled him hand over hand into the gloam. Deeper and deeper he plunged, doing his best to head the direction he had last seen the white doe run. It was full midnight when he saw her. The white doe was walking slowly, eating what Declan now recognized as wild onion, greens, if possible. Bathed in moonlight, she was even more beautiful than before. He froze, his breath locked away in his breast. Now his hunter training screamed at him. Now. Now, before she sees. With the fluid motion born of years of practice, he lifted his bow and knocked an arrow. The oiled wood gave the slightest groan as he pulled back the string, and the doe seemed to hear it. She leapt forward just as he released.
- [18:49]
Amelie
No.
- [18:50]
Amanda Weldon
He cried. The deer crashed away into the darkness. His arrow glanced off a rock, or maybe even a hoof, and snapped in half. On the ground. He sank to his knees and punched at the earth. She was too fast. He'd never catch up to her, especially with his injured leg. He had no chance of catching her, not that night. Bitterly cursing his luck and his aim, he went back to the cabin and fell into a restless sleep. The next morning he woke to the cabin door banging open. He swung off the bunk at once, fearing bandits or some other half thought nightmare. But it was only Amelie. She was limping, one leg wrapped in dark linens. Her long, pale hair was plastered to her body with sweat. Amelie, he said, helping her into a chair. What happened? I thought you were leaving. Is your leg okay? She shooed him away and pulled out a fresh bandage. Your clumsiness must be contagious, she said. I was hurrying to catch up, being careless, and I fell into the brush. Some old stump got me right across the knee. When she was all bandaged and clean, she stood up and shook her head. Alright. Now I really need to catch up with my family, she said. They're probably worried sick. Declan stood awkwardly and then gave her a sudden hug. What was that for? For helping me and. And teaching me. Because you got hurt, he said. I just. I don't know. I guess I'll probably never see you again. But I really hope you find your family safe this time. You've just been really nice, and I wish there was more I could do. Amelie looked at him for a long moment and then nodded to herself. You could do me one favor, she said. Tell me what? Just. Just remember this for me. She sang then, tilting her head back like a trilling.
- [20:51]
Amelie
The flower that's found in the forest will wither away in a vase. The songbird may sing when it's free to take wing, but it won't sing as sweet in a cage. Sunlight won't fit in your pocket
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Amanda Weldon
you
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Amelie
can't skim the stars from the sky so take but a kiss, an eye full of bliss and will the wild beauty thrive? Yes, will the wild beauty thrive.
- [21:47]
Amanda Weldon
When she finished, Declan stared, eyes bulging like a frog. Can you remember that for me? He nodded his head in wonder. I don't think I'll ever forget it. She smiled one last time and then disappeared back into the forest. Declan spent the rest of the day hunting half heartedly. He saw the antler marks of a large buck, knew it would make for some good hunting and but he found himself ignoring it anyway. In his heart he had come to know a simple truth.
- [22:20]
Stories Podcast Announcer
Either he would get the white doe
- [22:22]
Amanda Weldon
or he would go home empty handed. That night he went out looking for her again, hoping against hope. She was in the same general area and not dozens of leagues away. At midnight, his hope was rewarded. He came around the side of a cedar grove and gasped. There she was, the white doe, lean and glowing in the moonlight. She seemed to be made of moonlight, her soft radiance lending a tender silver hue to the forest. She was beyond beautiful and he had to have her hands steady and slow. He pulled an arrow from his quiver. The white doe was still standing, knee deep in a bobbing patch of red poppy flowers. He put the arrow to the string, drawing it back until the wood seemed to hum with life. The razor edge of the killing arrow flashed in the doe's glow. She saw it, looked up at him, and didn't run as most doe would, but stared. She stared right down the shaft of the arrow, stared right into his eyes.
- [23:37]
Amelie
The flower that's found in the forest will wither away in a vase,
- [23:51]
Amanda Weldon
Amelie, he breathed, relaxing his pull on the bow. The deer made a gentle sound. Declan set down his bow and walked forward, gently extending one hand. He noticed then that the pale white fur was the exact same shade as Amelie's long, flowing hair. How could he have ever been so blind? Im sorry, he said. I didn't know. She leaned forward and laid her nose against his hand. He felt the warm caress of her breath and shook his head. I understand now, he said, petting her velvet forehead. Let your wild beauty thrive, Amelie. You'll have no more trouble from me. She nuzzled his hand for a moment and then turned and bound away into the woods. Once in the moonlight, Declan could have sworn she turned back to look, but it may have just been a trick of the moon. He returned home with no meat but bags of onions and herbs, and his family was happy to have the food, no matter where it came from. And though Declan never hunted for her again, he still roamed the woods, hoping against hope that one day, slipping among the trees, he'd see the brilliant white doe just one more time. The End Today's story, White Do Fairy Doe, was an adaptation of a traditional French fairy tale written for you by Daniel Hines and performed for you by me, Amanda Weldon, with the song by Us Both.
- [25:36]
Stories Podcast Announcer
If you would like to support Stories podcast, you can leave us a five
- [25:39]
Amanda Weldon
star review on iTunes. Check out all of our merch available@storiespodcast.com Shop Commission a special video on Cameo. Follow us on Instagram oriespodcast or simply tell your friends about us. Thanks for listening.