Heart Warming Bedtime Story: 'A Handful Of Gumdrops'

This story was written by Jason, a lovely Sleepy Cat patron as part of the 'Listener's Corner' series on Sleepy Cat.

Tonight, in a rare occurrence, you will not be the main character. Instead we follow the heart warming journey of an elderly man trying to reminisce on a wonderful childhood, and finding courage in the face of personal adversity, as he attempts to rekindle his family relationships. The story lasts for about 25 minutes, with relaxing ambience to follow.

It's cosy, nostalgic, a little bit magical and very evocative! :)

Music by Liborio Conti
SFX Homemade or Freesound

Transcript

A warm welcome to this bedtime story.

This one has been written by Jason,

One of my lovely patrons.

Tonight,

We follow the heartwarming journey of an elderly man trying to reminisce on a wonderful childhood,

And finding courage in the face of personal adversity as he attempts to rekindle his family relationships.

Before we begin,

We will do a short guided breathing pattern called 3-4-5.

This will allow you to slow down and relax,

Preparing your body and your mind for a wonderful,

Peaceful rest.

When you are ready,

Breathe in through the nose for 3.

Hold for 4.

And breathe out for 5.

Let all of it go now.

Again,

That's in for 3.

Hold for 4.

And release,

Blowing away the thoughts of yesterday,

Today and tomorrow.

Again,

In for 3.

Continue to breathe in this way in your own time,

And with each breath out,

Allow your body to sink just that bit deeper.

Now,

Allow the breath to fall back into a natural rhythm.

Enjoy this new relaxation and peace flowing through your body.

Allow your mind to soften and your imagination to come alive as we begin tonight's story,

A Handful of Gumdrops.

One would never suspect,

Just by looking at the positively unremarkable house situated in an equally unremarkable suburb,

That a little bit of magic was about to happen at 112 Cedar Street.

Earlier that day,

Some light thunderstorms had rolled through,

And the air still carried a cool scent of fresh rain.

To the west,

The clouds had begun to move out,

Leaving behind an uncontested view of a dazzling sunset as the sun dipped lazily towards the horizon.

Inside the house,

The only occupant was dozing very comfortably in an oversized plush armchair.

His reading glasses had slid down the bridge of his nose.

A hardbound book lay in his lap,

Having slipped from his hands when this unplanned nap had begun.

The room was cozy and warm,

With a soft crackle and pop coming from the fireplace.

The sound of the man's steady snoring was punctuated by the gentle tick-tock of a grandfather clock.

The soft yellow glow of a reading lamp was quickly outdone by the spectacular sunset unfolding outside the window,

Bathing the walls in brilliant orange before gradually turning magenta and then deep blue as nightfall approached.

To a large corkboard mounted near the front door were tacked many photographs of family and friends.

Prominently featured were pictures of his wife,

Who had been gone over five years now,

Interspersed among photos of children and grandchildren who lived too far away.

All around the home were sprinkled other mementos and keepsakes from a long life.

A small display cabinet in one corner housed an assortment of trophies and awards from his youth.

On a nearby coffee table were scattered several little booklets or playbills listing the casts and crews from various theatrical productions over the years.

On one bookshelf sat three tall stacks of scripts,

Many signed by the same casts and crews.

In the bedroom adorning the walls were posters from productions he had taken part in,

Some as a stagehand,

Many as an actor,

Five as a writer,

And three as a stage director.

In one small section of the walk-in closet hung especially garish and colourful costumes.

Over the years he had even managed to make off with a few props,

The tall silver cutlass sword standing in another corner being a particular favourite.

However,

Those days were long behind him.

He was an old man now.

His mind,

Once so sharp,

Witty and creative,

Was slowly betraying him.

Sometimes friends would come to visit and he would have great difficulty recollecting who they were.

More and more often these days he would stare at the photographs of his grandchildren,

Desperately trying to remember their names.

He wished he had made more effort to stay in touch with his grandchildren,

To better connect with them despite any geographical distance.

His memory loss had gradually led to other unfortunate side effects in recent years,

An embarrassment to say the wrong thing or misremember an event,

Shame to address an old acquaintance or family member by the wrong name,

Fear to pick up the phone,

Afraid to say something that sounded foolish.

A gentle knock at the door roused him from his nap.

Retrieving the book from his lap,

He marked his place,

Set the book on a nearby table,

Then tossed his reading glasses atop the book.

With a quick glance to the clock he noted it was dinner time,

Then he beckoned his guest to come inside.

In walked his caregiver,

Hoisting a large tray of different dinner offerings.

Truthfully,

None of tonight's choices looked especially mouth-watering,

But he made a show of having an impossibly hard time making his final selection.

At last he chose baked chicken,

Scalloped potatoes and vegetables.

Already supremely comfortable in his armchair,

He elected to dine right there tonight instead of at the dinner table.

His caregiver prepared and administered his medications,

Then placed his dinner upon a tray on his lap and set a piping hot cup of tea on the table beside him.

After a short but pleasant chat,

The caregiver wished him a lovely evening and said they'd be back in the morning.

The old man watched their car slowly back out from the driveway and veer off down the street.

A bright crescent moon was now visible through the window as day officially passed over to night.

Alone again,

He stared down at the dinner tray and sighed softly.

Mischievously,

He decided he would skip straight to dessert.

His eyes darted to the small white plate whose contents were hidden under a stainless steel dome.

Although he had some degree of choice over the other food courses,

He never got to pick out his dessert.

Whatever dessert was being served each evening was simply what he got.

Sometimes it would be something quite delicious like a milk chocolate truffle or a warm slice of fruit pie topped with ice cream.

Other times it would something decidedly less delicious like biscotti or rice pudding.

He removed the silver dome cover and set it aside.

Perched atop the little dessert plate was an assortment of gumdrops in many vibrant colors.

Four red,

Four green,

Two white,

One orange,

And one yellow.

The sight of these gumdrops sparked something in him.

A feeling of pure joy and wonder,

Though he wasn't quite sure why.

He picked up a green gumdrop,

Feeling the rough sugar-coated shell as he playfully rolled the candy around in his hand.

He closed his eyes tight,

Trying to remember where this joyous feeling was coming from.

When he opened his eyes again,

He was nine years old.

He squinted his eyes as they quickly adjusted to the bright summer day.

There was not a cloud to be seen in the vast blue sky.

He was walking across a lush park and there was a wonderful concoction of smells in the air.

The verdant green grass,

A hint of cotton candy,

And the tantalizing aroma of candied pecans roasting somewhere nearby.

On either side of him marched several of his younger cousins.

They hurried as quick as they could,

Trying to keep pace with their ringleader,

The planner of today's grand adventure.

She was walking a few feet ahead of them,

A large picnic basket in hand.

And even without seeing her face,

He knew instantly that this was his beloved grandmother.

He followed as his grandmother led the merry troupe of youngsters across the park.

They soon found themselves in a small crowd of people,

All of whom seemed very jovial and friendly.

Some tents had sprung up in one section of the park where delectable food,

Drink,

And snacks were available.

Outside one tent,

He spied a cotton candy machine,

Undoubtedly the source of the enticing aroma from before.

A short distance away was their destination,

An amphitheater in the very center of the park,

Surrounded by tall stone columns.

An impressive audience had already gathered,

With more continuing to file in.

Resplendent flags on tall poles stirred in the gentle breeze,

And a circle of sloped rows gradually descended to a large stage,

The heart of this open-air venue.

Behind and around the stage,

Bright white fairy lights were peppered through rich greenery.

On the stage itself were sections of different elevations,

One made to look like a forest,

Another like a granite floor.

A short bridge made of wood and rope was suspended from one side of the stage to the other,

And decorated with colorful ribbons.

Most curious of all,

A very large painted moon was hung as the backdrop.

As they entered the amphitheater,

A young woman handed each of the children a small pamphlet.

They were able to find good seats with an excellent vantage point,

Slightly right of the stage and not too high up.

It was only mid-morning,

Not yet lunchtime,

So grandmother reached into her basket and handed each of the children a small bag of gumdrops to keep them satisfied and happy until intermission,

Whatever that was.

He poured a few gumdrops into his hand,

Then chose a fine red one to pop into his mouth.

He savored the sugary,

Granulated exterior,

Then finally bit into the soft gelatin center as flavor erupted on his tongue.

Glancing down at the pamphlet,

He recognized the name Shakespeare,

Though he didn't know much about the fellow other than that he sounded like a bit of an old fuddy-duddy.

Further down the page,

He saw the words,

A Midsummer Night's Dream in big fancy letters.

Was that the name of a song someone was about to perform?

He had no idea.

Over the next three hours,

However,

His young mind was opened and the path of his life was forever changed,

All while he gleefully grazed on gumdrops.

He was introduced to a mythical king and queen of the fairies,

A duke,

A duchess,

And a quartet of star-crossed lovers.

A tailor,

A tinker,

And a rascally sprite.

He admired the colorful costumes,

Especially intrigued by some characters who wore crowns,

Masks,

Or antlers on their heads,

Or wings on their backs.

As he watched the performers embody their roles,

He felt wholly immersed in the production.

He marveled at how the characters were brought to life,

How the audience seemed to hang on every word and action.

One character's name was Bottom,

Which he found riotously funny in its own right.

But then,

This same character seems to quickly steal the entire show,

The audience laughing delightedly at their hysterics.

Amazed,

He wondered how one person could hold such sway over a crowd.

The characters were speaking words he mostly knew,

But those words were arranged in fancy,

High-sounding ways.

Some of the time,

He couldn't exactly follow what was happening in the story,

But he became enamored with how their lavish turns of phrase came forth so artfully and rhythmically,

Occasionally spoken in rhyme.

He didn't know that this was a very amateur theater production performed by local university students,

That the costumes weren't very well made,

Or that a line was flubbed here and there.

To him,

This was perfect.

He was completely enraptured,

And suddenly he knew that he wanted to do something like this for the rest of his life.

As the play came to an end,

And the performers reappeared to take their final bows,

The colors,

The lights,

And the sounds all seemed to swirl together like a sparkling glitter in his mind.

He looked over at his grandmother in appreciation for this experience.

Mistaking his expression,

She smiled and offered him another gumdrop.

He chose a bright purple one and clasped it firmly in his small hand.

He shut his eyes tight,

Basking in the moment,

Willing it to somehow last forever.

But when he eventually opened his eyes,

He was alone again,

Sitting in his chair at 112 Cedar Street.

The cup of tea was still steaming on the table.

What had seemed like hours had been mere minutes at most.

He felt the moisture of a tear on his cheek and decided not to wipe it away.

Had it simply been a dream,

A long forgotten day,

A pivotal moment in his life now recalled with crystal clear clarity?

The sights,

Smells,

Tastes,

And feelings had seemed so very real.

And tangible,

More than any mere dream could offer.

It felt almost like time travel.

Having now relived that summer morning,

He knew without a doubt that it had happened exactly like that nearly 70 years ago.

Setting aside his dinner tray,

He stood and shuffled over to the board of photographs.

He dared to hope that maybe,

As a miraculous result of this strange experience,

His memory would be somehow restored.

That he would be able to remember everyone's names in these pictures.

But as he looked at the photographs,

The names of some of his own grandchildren still eluded him.

They were right there on the tip of his tongue,

But just out of reach.

Familiar feelings of embarrassment and shame threatened to return.

He felt something in his hand,

And realized he was still holding the gumdrop from his dinner plate.

Unclenching his fist,

He looked down at the gumdrop,

And his heart skipped a beat in astonishment.

He felt sure he had been holding a green gumdrop,

But the drop resting in his hand now was bright purple,

Much like the one his grandmother had given him in his dream.

But how was that possible?

Had there been a purple gumdrop on that plate?

He didn't think so,

Or was his memory playing tricks on him again?

Popping the purple gumdrop into his mouth,

He decided it didn't matter.

It didn't matter if his words occasionally seemed jumbled and confused,

And it didn't matter if he sometimes forgot names and faces.

Fear of embarrassment was no good reason to avoid fostering important relationships.

Decades ago,

A simple trip to the park with his grandmother had changed his entire life's trajectory.

He wondered now if perhaps he had the capability to impact his own grandchildren's lives in big and small ways.

His hand trembled slightly in nervous anticipation,

But with a quiet resolve,

He reached for the phone.

Reviews

Amazing I’m definitely going to listen to it again tonight….. thank you 🙏🏻