29 Little Women Read By Stephanie Poppins

Following the female stoic theme, this novel focuses on love, family, morality, and personal growth.
Meg, the eldest, is drawn to marriage and domestic life.
Jo, the headstrong and tomboyish one, pursues her passion for writing.
Beth, the quiet and gentle one, finds solace in music and is tragically affected by illness.
Amy, the youngest and most artistic, navigates her path, ultimately finding success in the art world.

In this episode: the March family send letters

Transcript

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.

This is your time and your space.

Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Happy listening.

Chapter 16 Letters In the cold grey dawn the sisters lit their lamp and read their chapter with an earnestness never felt before.

For now the shadow of a real trouble had come.

The little books were full of help and comfort and as they dressed they agreed to say goodbye cheerfully and hopefully and send their mother on her anxious journey unsaddened by tears or complaints.

Everything seemed very strange when they went downstairs.

It was so dim and still outside,

So full of light and bustle within.

Breakfast at that early hour seemed odd and even Hannah's familiar face looked unnatural as she flew about her kitchen with her nightcap on.

The big trunk stood ready in the hall,

Mother's cloak and bonnet lay on the sofa and mother herself sat trying to eat,

But looking so pale and worn with sleeplessness and anxiety that the girls found it very hard to keep their resolution.

Meg's eyes kept filling in spite of herself.

Jo was obliged to hide her face in the kitchen roller more than once and the little girls wore a grave,

Troubled expression as if sorrow was a new experience to them.

Nobody talked much,

But as the time grew near and they sat waiting for the carriage,

Mrs.

March said to the girls who were busied about her,

Children,

I leave you to Hannah's care and Mr.

Lawrence's protection.

Hannah is faithfulness itself and our good neighbour will guard you as if you were his own.

I have no fears for you,

Yet I'm anxious you should take this trouble rightly.

Don't grieve and fret when I'm gone or think you can comfort yourselves by being idle and trying to forget.

Go on with your work as usual,

For work is a blessed solace.

Yes,

Mother.

Meg,

Dear,

Be prudent,

Watch over your sisters,

Consult Hannah and in any perplexity go to Mr.

Lawrence.

Be patient,

Jo,

Don't get despondent or do rash things.

Write to me often and be my brave girl,

Ready to help and cheer us all.

Beth,

Comfort yourself with your music and be faithful to the little home duties.

And you,

Amy,

Help all you can,

Be obedient and keep Happy safe at home.

We will,

Mother,

We will.

The rattle of an approaching carriage made them all start and listen.

That was the hard minute,

But the girls stood it well.

No one cried,

No one ran away or uttered a lamentation,

Though their hearts were very heavy as they sent loving messages to Father,

Remembering as they spoke it might be too late to deliver them.

They kissed their mother quietly,

Clung about her tenderly and tried to wave their hands cheerfully when she drove away.

Laurie and his grandfather came over to see her off,

And Mr.

Brooke looked so strong and sensible and kind,

The girls christened him Mr.

Great Heart on the spot.

Goodbye,

My darlings,

God bless and keep us all,

Whispered Mrs.

March as she kissed one dear little face after the other and hurried into the carriage.

As she rolled away,

The sun came out,

And looking back,

She saw it shining on the group at the gate like a good omen.

They saw it also and smiled and waved their hands,

And the last thing Mrs.

March beheld as she turned the corner was the four bright faces,

And behind them,

Like a bodyguard,

Old Mr.

Lawrence,

Faithful Hannah and devoted Laurie.

How kind everyone is to us,

She said quietly.

I don't see how they can help it,

Returned Mr.

Brooke.

Mrs.

March could not help smiling at that.

When their neighbours went home to breakfast,

Leaving them to rest and refresh themselves,

Jo said,

I feel as if there'd been an earthquake.

Seems as if half the house is gone,

Added Meg.

Beth opened her lips to say something but could only point to the pile of nicely-mended hoes which lay on Mother's table,

Showing that even in her last hurried moments,

She had thought and worked for them.

It was a little thing,

But it went straight to their hearts,

And in spite of their brave resolutions,

They all broke down and cried bitterly.

Hannah wisely allowed them to relieve their feelings,

And when the shower showed signs of clearing up,

She came to the rescue,

Armed with a coffee pot.

Now my dear young ladies,

Remember what Jamal said and don't fret,

Come and have a cup of coffee all round,

And let's fall to work and be a credit to the family.

Coffee was a treat,

And Hannah showed great tact in making it that morning.

No one could resist her persuasive nods or the fragrant invitation issuing from the nose of the coffee pot.

They drew up to the table,

Exchanging handkerchiefs for napkins,

And in ten minutes,

They were all right again.

Hope and keep busy,

That's the motto for us,

Said Hannah,

So let's see who'll remember it best.

News from their father comforted the girls very much.

Although dangerously ill,

The presence of the best and tenderest of nurses had already done him good.

Mr.

Brooks sent a bulletin the very next day.

As the head of the family,

Meg insisted on reading the dispatches,

Which grew more and more cheering as the weeks passed.

At first,

Everyone was eager to write,

And plump envelopes were carefully poked into the letterbox by one or other of the sisters,

Who felt rather important with their Washington correspondence.

As one of these packets contained characteristic notes from the party,

We will rob an imaginary mail and read them.

My dearest mother,

It's impossible to tell you how happy your last letter made us,

For the news was so good,

We couldn't help but laugh and cry.

How very kind Mr.

Brooks is,

And how fortunate Mr.

Lawrence's business detains him near you so long,

Since he's so useful to you and father.

The girls are all as good as gold.

Jo helps me with the sewing and insists on doing all sorts of hard jobs.

I should be afraid she might overdo it,

If I didn't know that her moral fit wouldn't last long.

Beth is as regular about her task as a clock,

And never forgets what you told her.

She grieves about father and looks sober,

Except when she's at her little piano.

Amy minds me nicely,

And I take great care of her.

She does her own hair now,

And I'm teaching her how to make buttonholes and mend her stockings.

She tries very hard,

And I know you will be pleased with her improvement when you come.

Mr.

Lawrence watches us over like a motherly old hen.

Laurie is very kind and neighbourly.

He and Jo keep us merry,

For we get pretty blue sometimes and feel like orphans with you so far away.

Hannah is a perfect saint.

She doesn't scold at all,

And she always calls me Miss Margaret,

Which is quite proper,

You know,

And treats me with respect.

We are all well and busy,

But we long day and night to have you back.

Give my dearest love to father,

And believe me,

Ever your own Meg.

This note,

Prettily written on scented paper,

Was a great contrast to the next,

Which was scribbled on a big sheet of thin foreign paper,

Ornamented with blots and all manner of flourishes and curly-tailed letters.

My precious Marmy,

Three cheers for dear father.

Brooke was a triumph to telegraph right off,

And let us know the minute he's better.

I rushed up the garret when the letter came,

And tried to thank God for being so good to us,

But I could only cry and say I'm glad.

Didn't that do as well as a regular prayer,

For I felt a great many in my heart.

They're such funny times,

And now I can enjoy them.

But everyone's so desperately good,

It's like living in a nest of turtle doves.

You'd love to see Meg head the table,

Try to be motherish.

She gets prettier every day,

And I'm in love with her sometimes.

The children are regular archangels,

And I,

Well,

I'm Joan,

I shall never be anything else,

I suppose.

I must tell you,

I came near having a quarrel with Laurie.

I freed my mind about a silly little thing,

And he was offended.

I was right,

But I didn't speak as I ought to,

And he marched home saying he wouldn't come again till I begged pardon.

I declared I wouldn't,

And I got mad.

It lasted all day.

I felt bad.

I wanted you very much.

Laurie and I are both so proud it's hard to beg pardon,

But I thought he'd come to it,

For I was in the right.

He didn't come,

And just at night I remembered what you said when Amy fell into the river.

So I read my little book,

I felt better,

Resolved not to let the sun settle my anger,

And I ran over to tell him I was sorry.

I met him at the gate coming for the same thing.

We both laughed then,

And begged each other's pardon and felt all good and comfortable again.

I made a poem yesterday when I was helping Hannah wash,

And as father likes my silly little things,

I put it in to amuse him.

Give him the lovingest hug that ever was,

And kiss yourself a dozen times for your topsy turvy Joe.

A Song from the Suds Queen of my tub I merrily sing while the white foam rises high,

And sturdily wash and rinse and wring and fasten the clothes to dry,

Then out in the free fresh air they swing under the sunny sky.

I wish we could wash from our hearts and souls the stains of the week away,

And let the water and air by their magic make ourselves as pure as they,

Then on the earth there would be indeed a glorious washing day.

Along the path of a useful life will heart's ease ever bloom,

The busy minds no time to think of sorrow or care or gloom,

And anxious thoughts may be swept away as we bravely wield a broom.

I am glad a task to me is given,

To labour it day by day,

For it brings me health,

Strength and hope,

And I cheerfully learn to say,

Head you may think,

Heart you may feel,

But hand you shall work away.

Dear Mother,

Wrote Beth,

There is only room for me to send my love and some pressed pansies from the root.

I've been keeping safe in the house for Father to see.

I read every morning,

Try to be good all day,

And sing myself to sleep with Father's tune.

I can't sing Land of the Leal now,

It makes me cry.

Everyone is very kind,

And we are as happy as we can be without you.

Amy wants the rest of the page,

So I must stop.

I didn't forget to cover the holders,

And I wind the clock and air the rooms every day.

Kiss dear Father on the cheek,

He calls mine.

Do come home soon to your loving little Beth.

My Cher Mama,

We're all well,

And I do my lessons always,

And never corroborate the girls.

Meg says I mean contradict,

So I'll put in both words,

And you can take the properest.

Meg is a great comfort to me,

And lets me have jelly every night at tea,

So it's good for me.

Jo says it's because it keeps me sweet-tempered.

No,

He's not so respectful as he ought to now that I'm almost in my teens.

He calls me chick and hurts my feelings by talking French to me very fast when I say merci or bonjour,

As Hattie King does.

The sleeves of my blue dress are all worn out.

Meg put in new ones,

But the forefront came wrong,

And they're more blue than the dress.

I felt bad,

But I did not fret.

I bear my troubles well,

But I do wish Hannah would put more starch in my aprons and have buckwheats every day,

Can't she?

Did I make that interrogation point nice?

Meg says my punctuation spelling are disgraceful,

And I'm mortified,

But dear me,

I've so many things to do,

I can't stop.

Adieu,

I send heaps of love to Papa.

Your affectionate daughter,

Amy Curtis March.

Dear Mrs March,

I'll just drop a line to say we got on full straight.

The girl's clever and fly around,

Smart,

And Miss Meg is going to make a proper good housekeeper.

She's got the liking for it,

And she gets the younger things surprising quick.

Jo does beat all for going ahead,

But you don't stop to calculate fast,

And you never know when she's like to bring up.

She'd done out a tub of clothes on Monday,

But she starched them before they were wrenched,

And blued a pink calico dress,

Till I thought I should die a-laughing.

Beth is the best of little creatures,

And a sight help to me,

Being so four-rounded and dependable-like.

She tries to learn everything and really does go to market beyond her years,

Like why she keeps accounts with my help.

Quite wonderful she is.

We've gotten very economical so far.

I don't let the girls have coffee only once a week,

According to your wishes.

I keep them on plain,

Wholesome vittles.

Amy does well about fretting,

Wearing her best clothes,

And eating sweet stuff.

Mr.

Laurie sends heaps of things,

And is rather wearing,

But he means well,

And it ain't my place to say nothing.

My bread is with,

So no more at this time.

I send my duty to Mr.

March,

And I'll be seeing the last of his pneumonia.

Yours respectfully,

Anna Mullet.

All serene on the rapid hannock.

Troops in fine condition,

Commissary,

Department well conducted,

The Home Guard under Colonel Tenny always on duty,

Commander-in-Chief General Lawrence reviews the Army daily,

Quartermaster Mullet keeps order in camp,

And Major Lyon does picket duty at night.

A salute of twenty-four guns was fired on receipt of good news from Washington,

And a dress parade took place at headquarters.

Commander-in-Chief sends best wishes,

In which he's heartily joined by Colonel Tenny.

Dear Madam,

The little girls are all well.

Beth and my boy report daily.

Hannah is a model servant,

And guards pretty Meg like a dragon.

Glad the fine weather holds.

Pray make Brooke useful,

And draw on me for funds if expenses exceed your estimate.

Don't let your husband want for anything.

Thank God he is mending.

Your sincere friend and servant,

James Lawrence.