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- [00:14]
A
Hello and welcome to Super Great Kids Stories Wise tales from storytellers around the world, which will make you laugh and sometimes cry. Recommended for ages 55 to 105. I'm Kim and I love stories. This week we're continuing our theme of nature and the great outdoors. The story is from the San people of Southern Africa. It's about a little mantis, an insect, a little bit like a grasshopper, who wants to ride on the moon and travel across the night sky. It's told by Nomakwezi Becker from South Africa. And how are you super Great kids? I've enjoyed helping a friend who grows fruit and vegetables. I've been watering and weeding her plants. Have you ever tried growing something? It's very rewarding looking after plants and watching them unfurl. Sunflowers are good fun to plant and even something really small like cress. I really enjoyed helping to pick the fruit too and eat it. Of course. I picked some blackcurrants and strawberries and raspberries and it was so much nicer than buying them in a shop. I know that some of you story fans live on farms and grow things all the time. Aren't you the lucky ones? Well, we have a quick word with the grown ups. Why don't you think about what you'd like to grow if you had a fruit and vegetable plot. Here are some ideas to get you started. Maybe apples, carrots, strawberries. Ready? Off you go. Hello, Super Great kids. I'm back. I wonder what food you decided to grow on your plot of land. I'd like some plum trees, apple trees, carrots and tomatoes. And I'd like some blackcurrant bushes because they're delicious. Oh, I. And some pumpkins because they look so beautiful in the autumn, like glowing golden globes. I'd also rather like an orange tree, but that's not going to happen here. It's not quite sunny enough to grow oranges in the uk. Now, are you ready to travel in your imagination? We're going over to Southern Africa and we're going to meet that little insect called a praying mantis. This week's storyteller, Nomakwezi Beka, is from South Africa and she speaks Zulu. It's a language which has clicks and pops in it. Have a listen and see if you can hear any Zulu words while she tells her story.
- [03:11]
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Ready?
- [03:12]
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Let's give a very warm welcome to Nomakwezi Becca.
- [03:19]
B
My name is Nomakwezi and I'm here to tell you a story Today. Now, this story comes all the way from South Africa, where that greeting sanbonani comes from and means hello. And in southern Africa, there are big, big trees called baobab trees, or some of you may know it as a baobab tree. It is so big that people could even carve a room into it. Or you could put 10 or 15 people all around the tree, and they could all hug it and spread their arms, and they might still not be able to touch hands. Now, this story is about a tiny little creature called a praying mantis. The mantis looks almost like a tiny cricket. It's often bright green with spindly little spots, spiky legs that reach out in front and look like it's praying. It can also sometimes look brown, like the leaves of different seasons. This is the story of how it got its name, an old story by the San people, later written down by Magritte, Poland, and now told to you by me. Once upon a time, there was a tiny, tiny mantis with tiny, tiny legs and tiny, tiny arms and tiny little whirring wings that would flutter about in the night. This mantis dreamed of becoming important, you see, Even though there were many, many other mantises just like him, he thought he deserved a little bit more respect. All the animals would pass him by, the mini springbok and the snakes and even the hare, and they would all say, hello.
- [05:17]
A
Hi, mantis.
- [05:18]
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But he thought it might be time for them to praise him. That's right. He dreamed of one day becoming the God of the skies. And he thought the only way he might do that is to travel on the moon that way. All the animals would watch him cross the sky each night, point up and say, surely that is the mantis traveling on the moon. He must be a sky God and we should respect him. Oh, he would look down below so proud, and all the animals would realize he was the strongest, most powerful, tiny little creature of them all. So even though he knew that not even the birds could reach the moon, he thought he would be clever and cunning enough to come up with some kind of plan. And he turned to his lovely little leaf, which swung back and forth and back and forth just like a rocking chair, sat in it and began to think and think, because the mantis was a dreamer. And he knew he would find a way to get up to that moon. Now, one day, he thought he had it. He would go for the simplest idea of all. Surely the moon can't be that intelligent. All it does is cross the sky every single night. And then sometimes Disappear and then sometimes reappear. So he decided he would simply chase it. The mantis waited impatiently all day and all evening, until finally the shadows crept out from underneath the stones and the bushes and the moon rose to the sky, bright, beautiful and full. It came up so silently he nearly missed it. But there it was, caught in the branches of a camel thorn tree, the same tree that giraffes like to eat from. So he hurried up that trunk, half running, half flying, his wings clicking, click, click, click, click, click as he went climbing up the thorns and those orange beautiful blossoms and those tiny oval leaves, until he got almost to the top where he thought the moon had been. But when he looked around, the moon had disappeared again. He looked higher up into the top branches of the tree, and sure enough, the moon had climbed higher. Well, well, well, that mantis thought, I can keep climbing. That's not a problem at all. And so he kept on running and climbing as quickly as he could. And then he got up to the topmost branches of the tree, and when he reached out, he realized the moon was gone once again. He looked around, and sure enough, that moon had swung itself over to the branches of the baobab tree, the biggest tree of them all. Oh, goodness me. It was getting tiring for such a tiny little insect. But he would continue with a pounce and a flying wing and a whirr. He clicked his way down to the bottom of the baobab tree, stretched his arms up towards the trunk, and scuttled up as quickly as he could until he got to the topmost branches of even the baobab tree. It almost seemed like the moon was climbing faster than he was. When he finally got up there and reached out once again, the moon was gone. He couldn't believe his eyes. The moon was not only gone, it was further away. It was tiny and moving swiftly further into the distance behind the mountains once more. Oh, no, the mantis thought to himself, what a cunning little moon. Well, I've got to come up with a new plan. And so he waited until the next night and decided that this time he would wait inside the tree. Yes, surely if he waited inside the tree, he'll find the moon coming to him. And so that's just what he did. He got up into that camel thorn tree and waited and waited. And his wings were clicking and clicking. Click, click, click, click, whirr, whirr, whirr. Oh, my goodness. And there the moon was, rising, moving towards him. And it didn't even touch the camel thorn tree. This time it Just went straight to the baobab tree. This moon is getting clever. It clearly knows my plan, the little mantis thought. Still, he ran and chased and chase and got all the way up to the baobab tree. Oh, no. And once again, the moon was gone, far out of reach. Night after night, the tiny little mantis tried this again. He got up to the top of the baobab tree, still couldn't reach the moon as it got smaller and smaller and smaller, like a tiny sliver, until eventually it disappeared altogether. Very cunning, the mantis thought. It tries to hide, but it cannot hide forever. Sure enough, one day the moon returned in the shape of a tiny hunter's bow, thin and curved. Well, I shall make a trap, the mantis thought. I think a noose should do it. And so he wove a rope out of dry grass, weaving and weaving and weaving. Oh, my goodness. It had to be a very big, long rope. And he was just a tiny little mantis. So he spent most of his days doing this, until finally he decided it would be long enough. And he tied it in a loop and he dragged it all the way among some rocks on a high ridge where the moon would be close enough. He waited and waited, and sure enough, that tiny curve of a moon rose up into the sky. And he swung his noose out into the night, Pulled as hard as he could. But the noose knotted on itself and fell empty to the ground. Oh, no. Oh, no. All that hard work with my beautiful noose, and the moon just kept rising higher and higher, undisturbed. Well, the mantis took his noose, crept back to his bush, sat on his rocking leaf that swung back and forth and back and forth, and began to think, there must be another way. Somehow he must catch the moon and ride on it. How else could he be a sky God? There was no other way. To be noticed and praised by the animals in the way he surely deserved. So he came up with another plan. He found a very long stick, and he sharpened it at the top. Then he made his way back up to the hilltop and he staked it into the ground. And it would pierce the moon and hold it just like a white baobab flower caught on a thorn. He thought he was so smart. So again the mantis hid as the moon rose above the ridge of the hills, orange and heavy, as thick as a calabash of milk. Oh, and then it moved towards the stake. Foolish moon, he thought to himself, now I've caught you. Oh, what a wise and cunning mantis I am. And as the moon grew closer and closer. He saw it. He held his breath and. Oh, no, no. The moon just kept on floating past. It didn't even stop. But surely the stick was tall enough, wasn't it? I thought. I thought I saw the moon cross right by it, the mantis said. Oh. So he ran back. Indeed. Nothing there at all. The stick stood there undisturbed, and the moon kept rising and rising and rising into the sky. Well, well, the mantis was getting frustrated now. He didn't know what to do. But he was tired of outrunning the moon, and he decided he would wait for it on the other side of the mountains to see where it landed when it sank behind the hills. That's right. Surely he would catch it now. And so he waited for that moon to rise once more. And as it did, he followed its path, ran through the bushes, ran through the grass, from stone to stone. He started to whir his little wings. Whirr, whirr, click, click, click, whirr, whirr, click, click, click. He watched it travel across the sky until finally he reached the hills. And he looked down. Oh, my goodness. There was a watering hole. Trampled by many, many hooves. And indeed, far below, there was the moon. It had set behind the hills and was caught inside the water. He couldn't believe his luck. This was too good. So, stealthily, he crept down the steep, steep bank of the hill, came upon the edge of that watering hole and pounced on the moon, clutching at it with his spiny, tiny, tiny little claws.
- [15:55]
A
Oh. Oh.
- [15:56]
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But he. He didn't grab onto anything at all. Instead, there was water everywhere and. Bloop, bloop. He began to sink. He didn't know how to swim. Bloop, bloop, bloop, bloop, bloop, bloop. And just as he thought he was sinking, his tiny wings were. Click, click, click. And he got back to the wet bank, taking big gulps of breath. That was close. This water thing is dangerous. But surely I must have at least pushed it out of the water. And he turned back around and. Oh, there that moon lay, bright and glowing and undisturbed. The mantis was so frustrated, in anger, he picked up a tiny rock and he hurled it at the moon in the water, shouting at it. Oh, you stupid little moon. Inside went the stone. Boom, boom, splash. And the moon's reflection was shattered into a thousand pieces of moonlight. All those pieces leapt out of the water in every direction and right into the mantis's tiny little eyes. Oh, he tried so hard to Ease them out of his eyes. But all he could see were brilliant beams of moonlight. He couldn't see any of the colors. He couldn't see anything around him but moonlight. Moonlight shining bright. Oh, he decided, maybe if I go to sleep, then I'll wake up and everything will be all right. So he went to go rest under the bed branches of a tree. And as he closed his eyes, he realized there was no darkness in which to rest. All he could see were the many, many beams of moonlight. Oh, he went on like this for days. Day after day, he could only see the moonlight beams. And he no longer wish to be a sky God to sit astride the moon. He now wished he could just have his little life back, flitting about from tree to tree, just like all of the other mantises. And so he decided it was time to go to the moon to ask for his sight back. He found his way to a cameldorn tree, climbed up. Whirr, whirr, click, click, click. Whirr, whirr, click, click, click. And then the branches reached up into the warm evening air. He sat on one and stretched out his tiny, tiny arms. He held out his front legs folded up, and he began to pray to the moon to give him his sight back. He apologized for all he had done and promised to never, never try and catch the moon again. He swayed gently on a twig, his head bent. A small, tiny, humble insect praying to the moon. And the moon kept on rising higher and higher until it finally crossed the sky and got to the edge of the desert. When daylight came, the mantis opened his eyes and realized he had fallen asleep. He looked around. There was the pale moon fading away, and the birds flying across the clear blue sky. And the springbok and all the other animals he could see. Oh, he knew the moon had forgiven him and taken the moonlight out of his eyes. From that day on, that tiny mantis continued to bow down to the beautiful moon and give it its respect. To this day, the many, many children of the mantis still live there. Brown and green as the leaves that change with the seasons. They sit their tiny forelegs held up in praise of the moon, who forgave and restored the sight of their ancestor, a small, tiny winged one who wished to be a sky God. Tosto si appella. That's the end of my story.
- [20:50]
A
Thanks very much, Nomakwezi, for that story. Did you notice that was sort of a how and why story? Why mantis is called the praying mantis. And did you spot those clicks which sounded a bit like kisses at the very end of the story when Khwesi said in her language, which is Zulu, nos nosia pela, or something like that. So here's my question. What lesson did you think the little mantis learned from the beautiful moon? Maybe it was something about being happy with who you are or about appreciating beautiful things like the moon without trying to control them. You can't really tell the moon what to do, can you? Do you know there are not one, not two, not three, but 11 official languages spoken in South Africa? That's partly why it's sometimes nicknamed the Rainbow Nation, because it has a marvellous mix of people living there. We'll have more fun facts about South Africa, where Nomakwezi comes from in our owlet letter on Patreon this week. And now it's time to flip, flap, fly around the world with Story Owl to say hello and thank you to the owlet who've recently hopped into our nest and joined our storytelling club. Let's start in Hong Kong to say hello to Leon, who's 9, and Rudy, who's 7. Leon's favorite stories are Wally, dad and Grasshopper. Rudy likes Mama Draga, the Ghost of the Bloody Finger and hey Ho. Good choices all. A long flight east now across the Pacific all the way to Oakland, California to say hello to Jasmine, who's six. She's been listening since about 2022. Wow, Jasmine, that makes you a super fan. She says I'm her favorite storyteller. Well, thank you, Jasmine. Her mum's Sasha says it would be cool to have a storyteller from Kyrgyzstan, where she's originally from. Sasha, many years ago I interviewed a storyteller from Kyrgyzstan who told me she came from a very long line of storytellers and I seem to remember she told me her local version of a Cinderella story. On now to sunny Texas to greet amelia, who is 6 and lives in Dallas. She's been listening for about three years and loves all the stories, especially the scary ones about Baba Yaga. Well, I agree, Amelia, she is very scary because you never know if she's going to help you out or eat you. Well done for listening to them. Let's keep flying east to New Orleans and say hello to Isaac, who's nine. His favourite stories are the Two Silly Witches and all the Anansi ones. Very good choices. Up now to North Carolina to say hello to Ada, who's nine, Dawes, who's six and a half, Beatrice, who's six, three and a half And Baby Jack. Their favorites include the parrot and the cat and Anansi and the talking watermelon. We'll head further north now to New Jersey to say hello to Nyla, who's 8 and 2 year old Nuri. They listen every night and they especially like the 12 dancing princes, princesses and Mama Draga. Let's keep going up the east coast of the US to Poughkeepsie in New York to greet Jeremy, who's six, and his three year old brother Simon. They've enjoyed being able to listen to the super great scary stories now that they're owlets. Jeremy especially loves the Baba Yaga ones. Good choice, Jeremy. A short hop to Waltham, Massachusetts to say hello to Adeline, who turned six last month and has been listening since she was three. That makes you a superfan too, Adeline. Her favourite is the Giant of the Rimley River. And we'll keep hovering over Massachusetts because Julian, who's 8, Stella, who's 6, and their sister Camille live nearby in Topsfield. They love the Anansi and the Baba Yaga stories and they really like it when I say recommended for ages 5 to 105 because Camille is just 3, which makes you very grown up, Camille. Well done. Now we've flying a long, long way east over the Atlantic, all the way to the Channel Islands to Jersey to say hello to Felix, who's 6, and Elio, who's 4. They enjoy listening while having dinner. Felix's favourite story is Tutu and the Lost Shell and Elio likes the Catfishers. Felix and Elio used to live in France and now they're moving to Sussex in the UK this summer. Well, that is very exciting. I think Sussex is very beautiful, especially if you like walking and swimming. A short flight along the Channel to Kent in Southern England. Now to say hello to Harriet and Margaret, who became owlets for their fourth and ninth birthday. They like to listen while doing crafts and when they're in the car, they love the milk hair and the Ghost of the Bloody Finger. Very brave. I thought the Milkhair was very creepy. I wonder what crafts you do while you're listening to super great kids stories. Do let me know. And finally, another short hop, this time to Essex to meet Zach who lives in Westcliffe on sea. He was eight last month and he loves all of the stories and listens most nights before bed. Lovely. And our picture of the week is drawn by Archie, who lives in Dubai and recently turned five. He sent us a stunning collage of his favorite story from Hawaii, Punia and Kai Ali Ali Archie has carefully cut out his main characters on bright yellow paper which stand out against the black paper of the dark water. We love all the little beads and googly eyes and stars which you've stuck on as well. Thank you for sharing your picture. If you'd like to see it, it's on our website supergreatkidstories.com or on facebook.com supergreat kids stories and thanks to all owlets for your super great support. It's because of you that we can keep finding new stories and storytellers in different countries. If you'd like to support us on Patreon or on Apple Podcasts, we'll say hello to you on the show. You can hear our stories advert free and you'll have access to all the stories in our super great archive plus 50 super great scary stories and depending on your level of subscription, over 60 bonus stories plus access to our super great kids stories express with short introductions. No adverts, purely story great for listening back to back. Visit our website for more details. Supergreatkidstories.com and if you like these stories, do think about supporting us maybe just for a month. It costs $4.50. That's about £3.40amonth for a level one owlette on Patreon. And every little helps. Or as my mum used to say, every mickle makes a muckle. Keep telling your stories and singing your songs. This podcast was produced by Kim Normanton and David Smith at Wardour Studios in fabulous Fitzrovia in London,
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Sa.