Fairytales with Abigail

A tale of kindness

A tale of love

How honestly and courage make all the difference

A bucket of kisses

A lesson of patience

The secret of the winter queen

A charming little story

A fantastic fairytale

In time, their daughter, the Mouse Princess, came of age, and her parents began searching for a suitable husband for her. Letters were sent throughout the neighboring kingdoms, inviting princes from every land to attend a grand ball, where the princess would choose the one who would win her heart. The first to arrive was a donkey, dressed in a splendid

A tale of magic and kindness

A tale of kindness

A warm story about a horse

The Kingdom of ShiniesOnce upon a time, there was a land where shinies grew on everything on the rocks, on the flowers, and even on the blades of grass. Shinies were like little stars that had come down from the sky to live among the people. They twinkled and winked in the sunlight. With just one touch, a shiny could become a scoop of ice cream, a bag of sweets, or whatever your heart most desired. No wonder everyone gathered them by the basketful.High golden ladders climbed all the way into the clouds, for shinies floated there too, drifting like bubbles. But those ladders were tall very, very tall—and sometimes people fell. Then there was only sorrow.The King shook his head and called his councillors together.“We must make rules,” he said gravely. “Before someone else gets hurt.”So rules were made.But still, people reached for the shinies.The few who chose to leave them alone who simply walked past without touching them began to notice something strange. The grass seemed greener. The sky seemed bluer. The whole world somehow looked more beautiful than before.In this kingdom lived a girl named Abigail. She had bright green eyes and a quiet, kind nature.One morning, while wandering through the royal gardens, Abigail saw something extraordinary. It was a flower unlike any she had ever seen. Its petals were covered with the most brilliant shinies imaginable, glittering like a hundred tiny suns.Any other girl might have plucked every last one.But Abigail stood very still. She looked at the flower for a long time. Then, slowly, she knelt beside it and gently wrapped her arms around its stem. And she smiled—the way you smile at something you truly love.Then the most wonderful thing happened.The flower began to glow. Softly at first, then brighter and brighter, until new shinies bloomed from its very heart more beautiful than any Abigail had ever seen.Abigail sat back on her heels and thought about what had happened. The flower loved the earth. The earth loved the rain. The rain loved the trees, and the trees loved everything around them and beneath them. Everything was connected by love.And somehow, she understood.Love was the true source of all shinies.“What if,” Abigail whispered to herself, “we gave love first? What if we stopped reaching and started giving?”She went home and told everyone what she had seen. Some people listened immediately. Others took a little longer.But little by little, the kingdom began to change. And behold—it was not all at once. One by one, people began to care for the world the way Abigail had cared for the flower. They planted gardens, tended the fields, protected the trees, and shared what they had with one another.And the more love they gave, the more shinies appeared. Soon the kingdom was more beautiful than it had ever been. The flowers loved the earth. The earth loved the rain. The rain loved the trees, and the trees loved everything, and everything loved them in return.And so they lived happily ever after.

Fairytales

A tale of love and joy

A fantastic heart warming fairytale

A fairytale of kindness

Once there was a very small plant living in a very big house.She stood in a cracked brown pot in the farthest corner of the sitting room, where the light hardly came at all.The plant was yellow-green, with one little white leaf curling at the end like a question mark.Sometimes she asked herself, “Am I the only plant in the world?”But nobody answered.Every Friday a woman came with a watering can. She poured water into the pot, touched the soil with one finger, and went away again.The house stayed quiet.Then one afternoon a dog came charging through the rooms.Skidding! Sliding! Barking at shadows!The dog bumped the table with a great THUMP and over went the plant.Crash.The pot rolled one way and the plant rolled the other.“Oh dear,” whispered the plant, her roots trembling on the floorboards. “What will happen to me now?”Nobody heard.All day she lay there.The next morning the back door opened and a small child came inside carrying muddy gumboots.The child stopped.“Mmm,” they said softly.Very carefully, they picked up the plant and carried her outside.Outside!The plant had never seen such brightness in all her life.The garden buzzed and hummed and rustled. Bees wandered through the lavender. Tall flowers nodded in the breeze. Somewhere, water dripped from a hosepipe.The child pressed fresh soil around the plant’s roots and gave her a long cool drink.The little plant sighed happily.“I am not alone in the world,” she said.The other plants welcomed her at once.“Hallo there!”“Good morning!”“What’s your name?”But the little plant did not know.That evening, as the sky turned pink above the garden wall, she asked quietly, “What is my name?”Now hidden among the rosemary bushes lived a tiny fairy named Leila.Leila was so small she could sit inside a foxglove flower and swing her legs.When she heard the plant’s question, her heart squeezed tight with sadness.“I’ll find out for you,” she whispered.Up she flew into the evening sky, past the rooftops and chimney smoke, all the way to the oldest tree in the world.The tree was ancient and silver-barked, with branches spread across the stars themselves.And from its branches drifted white shining threads that carried the names of every flower and every plant.One shining thread curled around Leila’s hand and whispered:“Abigail.”Leila hurried back down.“Your name is Abigail,” she said.The plant trembled with happiness.“Abigail,” she repeated softly.Then louder:“I am Abigail!”And all the garden seemed to smile.But a few days later the child carried Abigail back into the house and placed her once again in the farthest corner.The room was dark and still.Abigail missed the bees.She missed the breeze.Most of all, she missed the voices.Her leaves drooped sadly.Then one evening the back door opened again.“Oy,” said the child.Out came Abigail once more into the warm golden light.“Leila,” Abigail whispered, “take me to the oldest tree again.”And so Leila flew upward once more.Higher and higher.When she returned, a white thread of light followed behind her like silk floating in the wind.That night Abigail was carried back to the house.Back to the dark corner.But this time the darkness was different.A white thread slipped beneath the door and wound itself through every room in the house.And along the thread came voices.“I’m Harry,” said one plant proudly.“I’m Mia,” said another.“I’m Josephine!”“I’m Ben!”One by one the plants began calling out into the dark.Soon the whole house was filled with voices and laughter and names.And the white thread of light kept travelling onward, curling through every lonely house and every forgotten corner of the world.

A fantastic tale

A beautiful fairytale

A fairytale

The courage of a small mouse

A tell of the curiosity road instead

Fairytales

A story about magic

Many years ago, there lived a troll named Heelik. Heelik had a very special doll whose name was Nechama, which means “Comfort” in the old language.Nechama was with Heelik almost all the time. He ate with her, slept with her, went walking with her, and played with her.Poor Heelik was very lonely, and there was one big, bubbly reason: he simply could not stop sneezing!You see, when a troll sneezes, everything nearby gets soaking wet. The gust of wind is so strong that it can lift even the sturdiest umbrella high up into the clouds and send it sailing straight toward the rainbow!“A-Tishoo! A-Tishoo!” went Heelik all day long.“Ugh! Gross!” the forest creatures would say.One morning, Heelik and Nechama climbed a tall, old oak tree to pick some juicy fruits for their breakfast. Heelik didn’t notice the tiny, shimmering Fairy who was also on the branch, collecting nectar for the coming winter.“A-Tishoo! A-Tishoo!” The troll sneezed so hard that the powerful blast shook the entire great tree.The little Fairy got completely drenched and had to use a quick spell to dry herself off!“Oh, excuse me,” said Heelik the Troll, looking sad. “I truly didn’t mean to harm you, but I just can’t control my sneezes!”The little Fairy looked at Heelik kindly. “I think you need to see a doctor, dear Troll,” she said. “To find out the why and the how of all your sneezing.” She then recommended one of her very best friends.The town was in an uproar! People shouted loudly: “Watch out! Watch out! Heelik the Troll is coming to town!”“If you want to stay dry, keep your distance from him! Don’t become a target for his sneezes!”The bustling, busy town quickly became quite deserted.Knock! Knock! Heelik the Troll tapped on the doctor’s door.The doctor opened it and almost immediately tried to slam it shut! But Heelik called out, “The little Fairy from the forest sent me!”When the doctor heard that, he came back out carrying the biggest umbrella you could ever imagine. He told the Troll to open his mouth, peeped into his nostrils, and then, to finish, gave Heelik a gentle tickle behind his long, floppy ears.“I think,” said the doctor, stroking his chin, “the reason you never stop sneezing is because you are lonely and alone. If you had friends to play with and talk to, the sneezes would soon stop.”“But how?” Heelik pondered while walking away. “No one wants a wet friend at the end of the day!”Heelik the Troll returned to the forest, quiet, thoughtful, and lonely once more.In the woods, he met the little Fairy again and told her what the doctor had said. She thought for a moment, and then a lovely smile spread across her face.“I think I can help,” she said.“Abracadabra!” cried the little Fairy. With a wave of her wand, she turned the doll Nechama into a real, live girl!The girl, Nechama, didn’t mind getting wet or being blown up toward the rainbow whenever Heelik sneezed. She simply loved Heelik.The Troll Heelik was no longer lonely, and at last, he stopped sneezing.What a racket and joyful fuss there was in the forest! Someone was celebrating a birthday with friends, and the guests just kept arriving! Yes, you guessed it right: Heelik the Troll was celebrating!Happy Birthday, Heelik!

The woodcutter and his sculptures

Fairytales retold

Bag if happiness

Stories I told my daughter

The graffalo continues

Down at the end of Curiosity Road, in a little house with a very big doorstep, lived a hedgehog.His name was George.And George was very, very pleased with himself.“I am the king!” said George.The animals of Curiosity Road looked at one another. Nobody could remember making him king. But George had already climbed up onto the old wooden crate he used as a throne, and was sitting on it with his eyes closed and his nose in the air.So. King it was.“Bring me berries,” said King George. And the animals brought berries.“Wear only green tops,” said King George. And the animals wore only green tops.But most of all — most of all — King George loved his daily massage.Every single day, one of the animals had to come and scratch his back and pat his head and generally attend to his small, prickly person.Oh, he was a most particular king.Now, the animals of Curiosity Road were good-natured animals. They were patient animals. But even good-natured, patient animals have their limits.It was Lion who reached his limit first.One afternoon, while scratching the king’s back, Lion’s big paw slipped — just a little — and scratched rather harder than necessary.“Eish!” cried George. “That was sore!”The next day it was Mouse’s turn. Mouse gave a small, neat nip.“Eish!” cried George. “That was very sore!”Then came Giraffe, who delivered one long, slow, considered kick.“Eish!” cried George. “That was terrible!”And last of all came Elephant, who gave one great, calm push — and said nothing at all.“Oh no,” said George, picking himself up off the ground. “That was most undignified.”George puffed himself up. His quills stood on end. His eyes went very small.“I am the KING!” he shouted. “And the king has SPINES!”And from that day on, whenever any animal came near — to help him or to greet him or simply to pass by — George would give them one of his spines.He gave a spine to Lion.He gave a spine to Dog.He gave a spine to Giraffe.He gave a spine to Elephant.Spine after spine after spine, all up and down Curiosity Road.Until one morning, George woke up and looked at himself in the puddle by his doorstep.He was smooth.Not one single spine left.The animals looked at him from across the road.“He is not so prickly now,” said Giraffe softly.“He is actually quite small,” said Elephant, blinking.“Mmm,” said Lion.That same afternoon, at the big fig tree at the corner, the animals held a meeting. It did not take very long. Lion had teeth, and claws, and a voice that made the mango leaves tremble. And — most importantly — he did not want a massage from anybody.So Lion became king.George went home.He sat down on his big doorstep with his little crown on his lap. He polished it with the corner of his vest. He turned it over in his paws.After a while, he put it carefully into his small blue suitcase. He clicked the clasps shut.He sat for a long time in the afternoon sun, listening to the sounds of Curiosity Road — the laughing, the calling, the chickens and the children — and somewhere, Lion’s big voice rolling across the rooftops.“Long live the lion,” said George at last. Very quietly.He waited for his spines to grow back. They did — slowly, one by one.And perhaps, though he would not say so to anyone, George found that a quiet life on his big doorstep was not such a bad life after all.If you ever walk down Curiosity Road in the late afternoon, just as the sun turns everything gold — look carefully under the bougainvillea at number seven.You may see a small hedgehog, sitting in the warm dust.And if you stop and scratch him — gently, mind you, very gently — he will close his eyes.And smile.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Once upon a time, there was a little monkey named John. John did not like wearing underwear. In fact, his favorite thing to say was:“Monkeys don’t wear underwear!”All the animals in the forest knew this about John.One fine day, John went for a walk. He walked and walked. He skipped between the trees, strolled past the flowers, and arrived at the edge of the lake.There, he met his friend, Absalom the Elephant.Absalom looked down at John and said, “John, you aren’t wearing any underwear.”John just giggled. “Of course not!” he said. “Monkeys don’t wear underwear!”But Absalom raised his trunk with concern. “Be careful, John. The lake is full of mosquitoes.”Bzzzz… Bzzzz…A giant mosquito circled John. It looked left. It looked right. And then—ZAP! It stung him!“Ouch!” shrieked John. “Ow, ow, ow!” He looked at his big friend. “Absalom, quick! Is it possible to borrow a pair of your underwear?”Absalom kindly brought him a pair. But elephant underwear is… very, very big. Too big!John completely disappeared inside them! He couldn’t see a thing, and he certainly couldn’t walk. So John took them off. And it didn’t take long before he forgot all about it.John walked and walked. He skipped between the trees, strolled past the flowers, and arrived at a tall fig tree.There stood Golda the Giraffe, munching on sweet figs. Golda peeked down from the treetops. “John, you really ought to put on some underwear.”But John just shook his head. “Monkeys don’t wear underwear!”Suddenly—Bzzzz-bzzt! Bzzzz-bzzt!A swarm of fruit flies arrived. They spotted John’s bare bottom. “Look!” whispered the flies. “A giant, ripe fig!”And NIP! And NIP!“Yeowch!” John screamed. “Golda! Golda! Do you have any underwear I can borrow?”Golda gave him a pair. But giraffe underwear is… very, very long. Too long!John took one step. Trip! He took another step. Stumble!He had to take them off. And once again, he forgot all about his troubles.On went John, walking and walking. He skipped between the trees, strolled past the flowers, and arrived at the murky swamp.There sat Methuselah the Toad.“Ribbit, John,” croaked Methuselah. “You should wear underwear. This swamp is crawling with fleas.”But John insisted: “Monkeys don’t wear underwear!”Right at that moment—BOING!A mischievous flea launched itself directly onto John’s bottom. BITE!“Gosh almighty!” John yelled. “Methuselah! Please! Do you have any underwear?”Methuselah hopped away and brought back a pair. But toad underwear is… very, very small. Too small!John couldn’t even fit one tiny finger inside. That was enough for John. He turned around and ran all the way home.“Mommy!” John cried, running into the arms of his mother, Hedva. “I want underwear! Right now!”Mother Hedva looked at him with great surprise. “But John,” she said gently, “I thought you were the expert. You said monkeys don’t wear underwear.”But just as she was speaking—Bzzzzzzzz…A bumblebee buzzed nearby. It saw Mother Hedva’s nice, round bottom. And then—STING!“Goodness gracious!” Hedva shrieked, jumping into the air. She rubbed her smarting bottom and said very quickly:“John… I have changed my mind. I was wrong.”She managed a small smile. “Monkeys MOST CERTAINLY wear underwear!”She winked at John. “And you know who else does? Smart little children!”From that day on, everyone in the forest knew: Monkeys wear underwear. In the trees, by the lake, in the swamp, and everywhere in between.And John? John wears his underwear with pride. But sometimes, with a twinkle in his eye, he still says:“Once upon a time, I used to think that monkeys don’t wear underwear.”And then, all the animals have a good, hearty laugh.

Long ago, in a time when enormous beasts still roamed the earth, there lived a young person named Elli in the land of Not. Everyone knew Elli as the strongest and bravest in the whole country. Yet Elli did not go about picking fights or showing off, for truly strong people have nothing to prove. Instead, Elli worked in the fields, cared for the fruit trees, and lived a quiet and peaceful life.One morning, just as the sun was rising, there came a loud knock at the door. When Elli opened it, a royal messenger stood there holding a letter sealed with the king’s mark. The message commanded Elli to come to the palace at once.Elli did not know why the king wished to see them, but a royal command is never ignored. And so, before long, Elli stood in the great throne room and bowed respectfully.The king looked at Elli for a long moment and then said,“People tell me you are the strongest person in our land. Recently, a king from a distant country visited me. We spoke of our kingdoms, and before we knew it, our talk turned into boasting. Each of us tried to outdo the other, until our pride led us too far.