Bedtime Stories for Kids

by Kaizen Mindfulness Meditations

  “I did know. But she doesn’t live in the tallest tree. She lives in the second tallest tree.”

  “Oh really? Where is the tallest tree, Wildebeest? What does it look like?”

  “That doesn’t matter, Silly Child. Tell your story.”

  “Oh okay. Well, it’s almost done. When we met with Miss Owl, she told us that only the Guardian could help me get out of the forest. But only the Wisest, the Swiftest, and the Bravest know where the Guardian is.”

  “Isn’t Miss Owl the Wisest though?” Wildebeest asked, raising his fuzzy eyebrows.

  “She sure is! But she didn’t know where the Guardian is. But that’s why she flew us here. She told us that the Swiftest might know where the Guardian is! So, do you?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You don’t?” Mister Butterfly asked, landing on his flower again.

  “I don’t. I don’t know where the Guardian is. I only know that the Bravest was the last one to speak with the Guardian.”

  “That’s not good. That’s not good at all. This Silly Child needs to-”

  “No, don’t worry, Mister Butterfly. It’s fine. It’ll all be okay.”

  “You aren’t worried?” Wildebeest asked me, his bright eyes turning to me.

  “Nope. Should I be? Things have been working out just fine so far. I’ll find my way home. I just know it.”

  “I like that attitude, you Silly Child. You’re right, you will find your way home. But I’m going to help you. Let me take you to see the Bravest. They will help you find the Guardian, I’m sure.”

  “You will? Really? Oh, thank you, Wildebeest!” I stood up and hugged his blue, fuzzy neck with all my strength. The claws and fangs and antlers didn’t scare me. This was a friend. I could just tell. When I let go, Wildebeest was smiling at me.

  “You’re welcome. Come on, climb on my back. It’d take too long to walk there. We’ll run.”

  “Couldn’t I just run next to you?”

  “You really are a Silly Child. They call me the Swiftest for a reason. Come on.” Wildebeest got down low, giving me the chance to climb on his back. That’s when I realized how big he was. Way bigger than a wolf. Maybe even bigger than a mountain lion. But he was soft, like my dog at home. I did my best to climb up, then I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “Is this okay? I’m not hurting you, right?”

  “Yes, Silly Child. I’m okay. Just hold on tight. Are you ready?”

  “Yeah! Let’s go!”

  “Are you ready, Mister Butterfly.”

  My little purple friend had settled down between Wildebeest’s antlers, closing his wings tight. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  It felt like we were flying all over again. Not because we were so high up, but because of how strong the wind was. One moment we were in the grove, with birds chirping around us. The next moment, the wind was rushing past my ears in a muted roar. My scarf chased behind me, flapping about, and the loose strands of my hair followed it. I couldn’t see anything at all. We were moving that fast. I did notice the blurs suddenly go from bright colors like purple and red to green and white. Which means we left the Spring Grove and the silver trees behind. Part of me was very sad about that. And another part of me hoped I’d go back someday and get to talk with the nice frog and watch the clouds overhead. I’d lay back and let my feet soak in the cool brook and fall asleep beneath the open sky.

  That trip was much shorter than the flight with Miss Owl though. It must have been why they called him the Swiftest. Going so fast that the world was just a blur. Running through trees, and across frozen streams. I think we even sped over a frozen lake at one point. I wasn’t sure. All I really knew was that the whole thing was over before I knew it. And when the world stopped spinning, we were standing in front of a giant hill, covered in moss and snow. The pine trees stopped some of the blizzard’s wind, but not all of it. And in the falling streams of snow, the cave looked very cozy.

  I climbed Wildebeest’s back and hopped down into the snow. The Spring Grove was beautiful and comforting, I admit. A warm break from the constant blizzard winds and snow in my boots. But I missed the winter wonderland of the forest. The drifting snow that looked like fairy dust as it was picked up in the patches of sunlight. The banks of cold, which looked like small mountain ranges just waiting to be explored. The way everything glowed when the sunlight hit it just right, making the magic jump out at you. There’s nothing like the sight of the winter wonderland to make your heart sing and light up a fire in your heart. There is something pure and innocent in the snow that makes you feel free. Like you’re one of the snowflakes floating on along in the cold air.

  “This is the cave of the Bravest. She is sleeping right now, but we can wake her together. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. But if she sees we are together, she won’t be so grumpy.”

  “Grumpy? I don’t want to bother her, Wildebeest. If she is sleeping, maybe we should come back in a little while? When she wakes up?”

  “She won’t wake up again until the snow begins to melt, and winter is behind us. This is her way, her season of rest.”

  Mister Butterfly landed on the top of my head and said, “It is what it is. You need her help. And that means it can’t be helped.”

  “That’s right.” Wildebeest agreed, nodding his shaggy head, shaking the snow from his blue fur. “If you want to find the Guardian, you need her help.”

  “Are you sure she will help us? Even if we woke her up?”

  “Like I said, that’s why I’m here. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

  And that was what we did. Literally. One step at a time, we pushed forward. One step at a time, we tiptoed through the snow. We had to wake her, but we weren’t going to be rude about it. I was following the Wildebeest’s trail. He went first, putting one paw in front of the other, gently walking across the top of the snow. He seemed familiar with the cave, and this area. And he seemed wise, just like Mister Butterfly. Maybe not as wise as Miss Owl, the Wisest, but still smart. So, I had to trust them. Trust that they knew what was best. As we walked into the cave, the snow disappeared from the ground. What we were walking on was just as soft though, even if it wasn’t the white blanket of winter. The light disappeared briefly, but that didn’t last long. Going from the bright snowy forest outside to the darkness in the cave, it didn’t surprise me. And my eyes adjusted quickly, picking up little hints of light here and there. They were deep in the cave. It was a different kind of light. Not sunlight, but a soft glow. And the lights were the same color as Wildebeest’s fur.

  “What is that, Wildebeest? That light?”

  “Yes, I see it too.” Mister Butterfly says, whispering in the quiet.

  “Just give it a moment. You’ll see.”

  We walked deeper into the cave, following Wildebeest shining form. As we went further, I realized that this cave was different. It wasn’t cold and damp, but warm and humid. Like there was heat coming from the ground and the walls, or an invisible fire of some kind. And after a few moments, I could see everything. The light, the small blue orbs that danced through the warm cave, were fireflies. Blue fireflies. They were everywhere, flying through the air in rivers of light. They followed each other, swirling and seething like a cloud of a thousand tiny flames. They drifted about like embers from a big bonfire, but there was none. Just the fireflies, floating all around us. And when I looked down at the ground, I saw why it was so soft and warm. Instead of stone, the ground was covered in a deep blue moss. In my mind, I wondered if the moss and the fireflies were connected somehow. If the moss was blue because of the little glowing bugs, or if the bugs were blue because of the fuzzy moss.

  “Wow. It’s beautiful.” I whispered, hearing my voice echo through the cave.

  “Yes. The Bravest sure knows how to pick a cave. There aren’t many like this in the world. And isn’t it peaceful? I wouldn’t mind napping through a season or two in here.” Wildebeest nods, his foxlike tail swaying behind him.

>   “Yes, the moss looks like a very good bed. Would anyone care for a nap?” Mister Butterfly says, laughing softly.

  “I think the child would rather nap in their bed, no?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. So where is the Bravest, Wildebeest?”

  “Oh, she’s right over there. In the corner.”

  Looking at the corner, where a group of fireflies were floating in a circle overhead, I saw a big golden boulder. But as we moved closer, the boulder bigger, and fuzzier. I wondered if it was a different type of moss, but then the boulder moved. It puffed up, then let out a big snore. A snore so strong that it made my knees shake and the ground quake.

  “What. Is. That?” Mister Butterfly asked, stunned by the sleeping beast. It was a bear!

  “That. Is the Bravest. She’s a lot nicer than she looks, I promise. We just need to figure out how to wake her up without making her mad.”

  “I thought you were going to do that, Wildebeest?” I asked, feeling a little nervous. I didn’t want to wake up a beast this big.

  “What? Me? Oh no. I’m here to make sure she doesn’t think you’re a rude human who just waltzed into her cave.”

  “This is going to well.” Mister Butterfly whispered as he flew over to the sleeping beast.

  “What should I do, Mister Butterfly?”

  “Why not try a song, Silly Child? Everyone loves music. Though usually music is used to put beasts to sleep, maybe it can be used to wake them up too.”

  “But what song should I sing?”

  “A song from the heart. Only a song from the heart will sound genuine to the Bravest as she sleeps.”

  “Sing about what your heart needs. And why you came.” The Wildebeest says.

  “About what my heart needs...”

  What did my heart need? I couldn’t decide what I wanted for dinner. I didn’t know what my heart needed. But if I listened very carefully, I could hear my singing to me. So, I closed my eyes and listened. Hands clasped, eyes shut, cave silent. I let my heart tell me what it needed.

  “Today is Christmas Day.

  I left my home and family.

  I just wanted to play, in snow and winter dreams.

  But when I played too long.

  I wandered too far, and my home was gone.

  And now I’ve wandered here.

  To a forest of magic, lights, no fear.

  But today is Christmas Day.

  And I miss my home and family.

  Today is Christmas Day.

  I want to go home, together we’ll play.

  My family and me.

  My Christmas.

  My Christmas.

  My winter dreams.”

  I wasn’t the best singer, but my mom always told me that a song from the heart was the most beautiful kind. And this song came straight from my heart. So, I did my best. I sang with all my heart. I sang with love and hope. And it worked! The Bravest started to wake up. She rolled over onto her back, showing off her big belly, which was as bright gold as the sun in the Spring Grove. And by the time my song was done, she had opened her eyes and let out a giant yawn.

  “Who’s singing while I’m trying to take a nap?” She growled sleepily and climbed off the bed of moss she had been napping on. Her big blue eyes were lowered to me, and I started to feel nervous. What if my song was wrong? What if I didn’t sing well, or it wasn’t pretty enough? “Don’t you know you shouldn’t poke a sleeping bear?” She asked me in a sleepy voice.

  “Technically, the Silly Child sang for a sleeping bear.” Mister Butterfly whispered, making a bad joke.

  “It was me, Miss Bravest. I was the one singing for you. We needed to wake you up, and it was the best I could think of.”

  “Don’t be mad, Miss Bear.” Wildebeest said, stepping in front of us, his tail whipping back and forth. The Swiftest smiled at the Bravest and bowed its head. “I told them to wake you.”

  “Wildebeest? Why on earth would you tell them to wake me? You know I need my beauty sleep. Winter is my quiet season.”

  “I know, Miss Bear. I’m sorry to wake you up. And they are sorry too. But this child needs help. And you’re the only one who can help them.”

  Miss Bear snorted, her breath coming out in two clouds of steam. She lowered her shimmering face down to me, and I tried to smile at her. Her head was bigger than I was, but that didn’t scare me.

  “Even though you’re big and probably grumpy, you’re not mean. I can tell.”

  “Oho? Is that so, you Silly Child? And how can you tell?”

  “Your voice. I can tell from your voice, Miss Bear. You talk just like my mom. With a strong voice, but soft at the same time. It's a kind voice. Like a stone sitting out in the sun. You’re tough, but warm too.”

  “Oho, are you sure? I could eat you up in one bite if I wanted.” She smiled at me, showing off pointy golden teeth.

  “You could,” I told her. “But you won’t. Because you don’t want to. You just want to sleep.”

  “Oho, you really are a Silly Child! What about your song. Is that true? What you said about wanting to go home to your family? Do you miss them?”

  “I do. I wanted to go out and play in the snow. But I think that was wrong. I should have stayed inside and played with them. Now I’m stuck out here, and I just wish I stayed and played with them while I could. I can always play in the snow tomorrow. But my family aren’t all going to be together tomorrow. That’s why Christmas is special. It’s a time of year where everyone is together. It doesn’t matter if we are all playing in the snow, or if we are all inside watching tv. All that matters is that we’re together.”

  “You’re right, Silly Child. It is better to be with family and warm in the den than outside and alone in the cold.” Miss Bear said. She nodded and smiled at me, and that reminded me of my mom too. “My cubs were little like you once. But then they got big and decided to wander off on their own. They wanted to explore, climb mountains, and swim in rivers. And now they are as big as I am and have little cubs of their own. But they still come home once a year, during spring, to be with their Mama. Because they learned the same thing you have. Everything is better when the family is together.”

  “Does that mean you’ll help me, Miss Bear?”

  “Oho, call me Mama Bear.”

  “Okay! Mama Bear, will you please help me find the Guardian and go home?”

  “Wildebeest, do you like this child?”

  “Yes.” The Wildebeest said, looking at me with glowing eyes. “I am quite fond of the Silly Child.”

  “Mister Butterfly? What do you think?”

  “This one is different, Mama Bear. This one is alive with magic. And love.” Mister Butterfly said as he flew around Mama Bear’s big head.

  “Oho, is that so? Alright, Silly Child. You have met the Wisest. She let you fly on her back and led you to the Swiftest. The Swiftest has met you and seen the magic in you. He carried you here on his back. And now I have met you and heard the love in your heart. I will carry you on my back to meet the Guardian. I will help you.”

  “Mama Bear, thank you! You’re the best. I knew you weren’t a grouchy bear.”

  “Oho, I will be if I don’t get back to sleep soon. Let’s go, you Silly Child. Say your farewells.”

  “My farewells? Wildebeest, you aren’t coming?”

  “I can’t come, Silly Child. Where you are going, only you can go.”

  “Nor can I.,” said Mister Butterfly.

  “Oh. I see.” I didn’t see though. I was actually very sad. “But why?”

  “There is no room for us on the rest of this journey. It is up to you now, Silly Child. You must meet the Guardian and find your way home.”

  There was nothing I could say, or do, to make this any better. “I didn’t know you two for very long. But I’m going to miss you both. Will you remember me when I’m gone?”

  The Wildebeest didn’t say anything. He just looked at me for a long while, in the silence of the cave. The blue fireflies floated around him, mak
ing his fur glow even more than usual. Then he took his big cat paw and tapped me on the forehead with it. It was almost like he was patting me on the head. Was he trying to comfort me?

  “How could we ever forget such a silly child?” he said.

  “We won’t. We can’t. Remember. The creek will flow on. And one day, it may carry you back here. To us.” Mister Butterfly spoke so softly, in that gentle voice he used always. His wings were a soft purple in the light of the cave, and they fluttered as he landed on my hand.

  “I’ll never forget you. Any of you. Not Mister Fox or Miss Squirrel. Not Mama Ladybug or Ol’ Lady Owl. I’ll always dream of you, Wildebeest. And I’ll think of you the most, Mister Butterfly. Thank you both for helping me. One day I’ll help you too. I promise.”

  Wildebeest raised his paw off the top of my head and smiled. Mister Butterfly flew off my hand and landed on the top of Wildebeest’s silver antler. The fireflies gathered underneath them, a blue halo of light that spiraled about them. The little dancing lights flew faster and faster, more of them surrounded my friends. A soft humming filled the cave as they gathered as if the fireflies were singing a song for us. The blue glow got brighter and brighter, and finally, I had to look away. Then the humming stopped, the lights were gone. And when I looked back, so were Wildebeest and Mister Butterfly.

  “Where did they go?” I turned and asked Mama Bear.

  “Back.” was all she said. And then she picked me up in her big paws and placed me on her own back.

  “I hope they get home safe.”

  “Oho, they will. Don’t worry, Silly Child. Let’s just get you home, hm?”

  “Okay, Mama Bear. I’m ready to meet the Guardian.”

  “And the Guardian is ready to meet you, I’m sure.”

  I ran my fingers through Mama Bear’s golden fur. She slowly climbed out of her cave, and her big steps made me bounce a little on her back. The sunlight made it hard to see as we left the darkness, so I closed my eyes. I closed my eyes and thought of all I’d seen on this Christmas Day. And I wondered what else I’d see before I got home. What was the Guardian like? Where did they live? I raised my face to the sky but kept my eyes closed. The snow fell on my cheeks and melted away. Mama Bear’s fur kept me warm.