Little Ida’s Flowers – A Sweet Bedtime Story For Kids-Pt 1

It’s Sleep Story time again with a lovely story abut a little girl who loves flowers. And these flowers turn out to be magical ones! They dance ,and have fun and magical balls in the King's castle at night after everyone leaves.
Ending Music from Freesound-SweetDreams

Transcript

Hi,

This is Stefania,

And we've got a lovely story about a little girl who loves flowers.

And these flowers were not just any flowers,

They are magical.

You'll find out.

Little Ida's Flowers My poor flowers are quite faded,

Said Little Ida.

Only yesterday evening they were so pretty,

And now all the leaves are drooping.

Why did I do that?

She asked of the student who sat on the sofa.

He was a great favorite with her,

Because he used to tell her the prettiest of stories and cut out the most amusing things in paper.

Hearts with little ladies dancing in them,

And high castles with doors which one could open and shut.

He was a merry student.

Why do the flowers look so wretched today?

Again she asked,

Showing him a bouquet of faded flowers.

Do you not know,

Replied the student,

The flowers went to a ball last night and are tired.

That's why they hang their heads.

What an idea,

Exclaimed Little Ida.

Flowers cannot dance.

Of course they can dance.

When it is dark and we are all gone to bed,

They jump about as merrily as possible.

They have a ball almost every night.

And their children can go to the ball,

Asked Ida.

Oh,

Yes,

Said the student.

Daisies and lilies of the valley that are quite little.

And when is it that the prettiest flowers dance?

Have you not been to the large garden outside the town gate,

In front of the castle where the king lives in summer?

The garden that is so full of lovely flowers.

You surely remember the swans which come swimming up when you give them crumbs of bread.

Believe me,

They have capital balls there.

I was out there only yesterday with my mother,

Said Ida,

But there were no leaves on the trees and I did not see a single flower.

What has become of them?

There were so many in the summer.

They are inside the palace now,

Replied the student.

As soon as the king and all his court go back to the town,

The flowers hasten out to the garden and into the palace where they have fabulous times.

Oh,

If you could but see them.

The two most beautiful roses seat themselves on the throne and act king and queen.

All the tall red cockscombs stand before them on either side and bow.

They are the chamberlains.

Then all the pretty flowers come and there is a great ball,

A great dance.

The blue violets represent the naval cadets.

They dance with hyacinths and crocuses who take part of young ladies.

The tulips and the tall tiger lilies are old ladies,

Dowagers,

Who say to it that the dancing is well done and that all things go on properly.

But,

Asked little Ida,

Is there no one there to harm the flowers for daring to dance in the king's castle?

No one knows anything about it,

Replied the student.

Once,

During the night perhaps,

The old steward of the castle does,

To be sure,

Come in with his great bunch of keys to see that all is right.

But the moment the flowers hear the clanking of the keys,

They stand stock still or hide themselves behind the long silk window curtains.

Then the old steward will say,

Do I not smell flowers here?

But he can't see them.

That is very funny,

Exclaimed little Ida,

Clapping her hands with glee.

But should not I be able to see the flowers?

To be sure you can see them,

Replied the student,

You have only to remember to peep in at the windows the next time you go to the palace.

I did so this very day and saw a long yellow lily lying on the sofa.

She was a court lady.

Do the flowers in the botanical garden go to the ball?

Can they go all that long distance?

Certainly,

Said the student,

For the flowers can fly if they please.

Have you not seen the beautiful red and yellow butterflies that look so much like flowers?

They are,

In fact,

Nothing else.

They have flown off their stalks high into the air and flapped their little petals just as if they were wings,

And thus they came to fly about.

As a reward for always behaving so well,

They have leave to fly about in the daytime too,

Instead of sitting quietly on their stalks at home till,

At last,

The flower petals have become real wings.

That you have seen yourself.

It may be,

Though,

That the flowers in the botanical garden have never been in the king's castle.

They may not have heard what frolics take place there every night.

But I'll tell you,

If the next time you go into the garden,

You whisper to one of the flowers that a great ball is to be given yonder in the castle,

The news will spread from flower to flower and they will all fly away.

Then,

Should the professor come to his garden,

There won't be a flower there and he will not be able to imagine what has become of them.

But how can one flower tell another?

For I am sure the flowers cannot speak.

No,

You are right there,

Returned the student.

They cannot speak,

But they can make signs.

Have you ever noticed that when the wind blows a little,

The flowers nod to each other and move all their green leaves?

They can make each other understand in this way just as well as we do by talking.

Does the professor understand their pantomime?

Asked Ida.

Oh,

Certainly,

At least part of it.

He came into his garden one morning and saw that a great stinging nettle was making signs with his leaves to a beautiful red carnation.

It was saying,

You are so beautiful and I love you with all my heart.

But the professor doesn't like that sort of thing and he wrapped the nettle on her leaves,

Which are her fingers,

But she stung him and since then he has never dared to touch a nettle.

Laughed little Ida.

That is very funny.

How can one put such stuff into a child's head,

Said a tiresome counselor who had come to pay a visit.

He did not like the student and always used to scold when he saw him cutting out the droll pasteboard figures,

Such as a man hanging on a gibbet and holding a heart in his hand to show that he was a stealer of hearts,

Or an old witch riding on a broomstick and carrying her husband on the end of her nose.

The counselor could not bear such jokes and he would always say,

As now,

How can anyone put such notions into a child's head?

They are only foolish fancies.

But to little Ida,

All that the student had told her was very entertaining.

And she kept thinking it over.

She was sure now that her pretty yesterday's flowers hung their heads because they were tired and that they were tired because they had been to the ball.

So she took them to the table where stood her toys.

Her doll lay sleeping,

But Ida said to her,

You must get up and be content to sleep tonight in the table drawer,

For the poor flowers are ill and must have your bed to sleep in.

Then perhaps they'll be well again by tomorrow.

And she at once took the doll out,

Though the doll looked vexed at giving up her cradle to the flowers.

Ida laid the flowers in the doll's bed and drew the coverlet quite over them,

Telling them to lie still while she made some tea for them to drink in order that they might be well the next day.

And she drew the curtains about the bed that the sun might not shine in their eyes.

All the evening,

She thought of nothing but what the student had told her.

And when she went to bed herself,

She ran to the window where her mother's tulips and hyacinths stood.

She whispered to them,

I know very well that you are going to a ball tonight.

The flowers pretended not to understand and did not stir so much as a leaf,

But that did not prevent Ida from knowing what she knew.

When she was in bed,

She lay for a long time,

Thinking how delightful it must be to see the flowers dance in the king's castle,

And said to herself,

I wonder if my flowers have really been there.

Then she fell asleep.

In the night she woke,

She had been dreaming of the student and the flowers and the counselor who told her they were making game of her.

All was still in the room.

The night lamp was burning on the table,

And her father and mother were both asleep.

I wonder if my flowers are still lying in Sophie's bed.

She thought to herself,

How I should like to know.

She raised herself up a little and looked towards the door,

Which stood half open.

Within lay the flowers and all her playthings.

She listened,

And it seemed to her that she heard someone playing on the piano,

But quite softly and more sweetly than she had ever heard before.

Now all the flowers are certainly dancing,

Thought she.

Oh,

How I would like to see them.

But she dared not get up for fear of waking her father and mother,

If they were only coming here.

But the flowers did not come,

And the music went on so prettily that she could not restrain herself any longer.

And she crept out of her little bed,

Stole softly to the door,

And peeped into the room.

Oh,

What a pretty sight it was.

On the floor,

All the flowers danced gracefully.

Okay,

That's our story for today.

I'll be back really,

Really soon with the next part of the story,

And we'll find out what went on at the dance.

In the meantime,

Sleep well.

Bye for now.