Bedtime Story Assignment

As I child, I fondly remember my mother reading to me from a Mother Goose book with her slight Portuguese accent.  However, most of the stories that were told to me and my siblings were not read from a book, but recited from my mother's own childhood stories. 

Most of these stories revolved around her family, and her many aunts and uncles (she had 13 of them) and many cousins.  She enjoyed telling me stories about one aunt in particular, "Tia Merquinhas", who apparently was very stubborn whom my parents felt I had a lot in common with.  Not only was she stubborn, but she was known to be sort of a rebel who often did things her way, not caring what other people thought of her.  (Okay, what is wrong with that?) When she got older, she hid her money and gold in her mattress and in the walls of her home fearing that she would one day be robbed by family members or thieves.  (Imagine the activity in that house after she died!).  The last time I saw Tia Merquinhas she barely could see very well, but she was a very strong and determined little old woman, who went about her business, taking her walks with her walking stick through the village with her dark heavy shawl.  Yes, she was a bit on the eccentric side, but it wasn't until I got older did I learn more of her very unfortunate, heartbroken life, and to this day I am not miffed at all being compared to this very strong willed woman.  (But that is another story in itself.)

Most of the stories  told to us as children were more like fables.  There was always an important lesson to be learned!  One of the stories that still is fresh on my mind is the story about the poor little girl my mother was friends with who never put on slippers after taking a bath.  She stepped upon the cold floor and immediately had a stroke which immediately left her paralyzed.  To my parent's dismay, I never wore my slippers after taking a bath, and they often felt they needed to remind me over and over again about this little girl's demise.  Another story that was told to me was the story of the little boy who always left the house with wet hair and no sweater.  He also had a stroke, and was left with a disfigured mouth marked by the cold weather.  I apparently still haven't learned my lessons, and I still leave the house with wet hair, no coat, and I often leave my shower/bath barefoot.  Dare I even mention that yearsago, I left the house for work with a towel still wrapped in my hair?  It wasn't until I noticed my young daughter's weird expression as she looked up at me, and finally felt the cold morning air, that I indeed FORGOT to take the towel out of my hair and comb it out. 

I am, however guilty of telling these stories to my own children; just because I can... 

My favorite story that was told to me was about the old man who wandered the streets carrying the large burlap bag over his shoulders, full of children that refused to sleep at night.  I remember jumping into my parent's bed with my older sister (when my father worked graveyard shifts), and snuggling close to my mother, giggling and chattering away refusing to sleep.  Suddenly, out of the darkness of the room, my mother, out of desperation would knock on the headboard.  Suddenly, we all became very quiet.  "Olha, o velho!"  my mother warned.  (Look, the old man is here!).  We all lay there, motionless, listening in silence hoping that the old man would go away and leave us in peace.  We lay there until we finally gave in to the silence and drifted to sleep, often to my mother singing "Ave, Ave Maria...." over and over again. 

Extra Credit:  Yes, I have done the old man technique story with my own children, and they now think it is very funny, and often pretend to be the old man.  I tried this the other night with my almost 2 year old, and although he probably doesn't understand, he worked like a charm.