Romani Roots
But patrina kater ruhkendar, avendar kater kodo vesh te le purden hi po o kodo baval!
FIRESIDE STORYTELLER
From our very earliest travels the Romani have sat around the fire and told stories.
Stories have been passed down from generation to generation and new stories added with each fire that has been lit to entertain both old and young.
Here our own members tell the stories of past, present and future, wether reality or fantasy, with morals and humour and we invite you to read and enjoy this wonderful talent - the Art of Storytelling.
If you wish to contribute to this page or comment on stories placed here please refer to the CONTACT US page and once approved you may share your comments/stories so that others may view them.
All contents of this page are by kind permission and CANNOT be reproduced without the Authors' concent.
The author "Shahnee" would like it made clear that although her written compositions may have been published on other websites, she is not affiliated to, is no way connected to, not a member of or involved in the adminstration of, those sites.
Old Bill
Old Bill setup in bed and scratched his head, his guts was empty and making grumbling sounds that could be heard by his old mum and dad who where setting close to an old coal fire in their caravan, trying their hardest to keep warm.
“Muv giv me some grub here i’m staving”
Old Bills mum looked at him with tears in her eyes and said
“they aint nank boy ya father hurt his leg here an can’t get ta do nank “
Old Bills mum wiped her eyes as she spoke
“aint ya got nank in the grub cupboard then muv?” he asked now scratching his leg
“no my boy i giv ya the last we had yesterday”
Old Bills mum brushed her hair back from her face
“me and ya father aint eat nank for three days boy“
Old Bill pulled the blankets back from him then stood up
“get me chockes and jeffro here muv i’m gonna go get meself sank to eat ”
Old Bills mother gasped and looked at her son in shock, because her son only ever left his bed in winter if he needed to go to the toilet.
“cur on then muv aint got all day”, he told her as she stood there looking at him
“but Bill it’s snowing my boy and the snows up ta the jigger ya won’t get nank in this”
Old Bills mum looked at her son now with concern in her eyes, her son was her only child and pride and joy. For so many years she had thought that she couldn’t have children, but then on her 45th birthday she found out she was having a child, 20 years had passed since that day and there wasn’t a day went past she hadn’t thanked god for her precious son.
”dordi muv we can’t stave here can we, get me jeffro”
Old Bill’s mum knew her son was right so went and got him his shoes and coat. Old Bill put them on then he open the caravan door and looked out at the cold White winter snow, he hesitated for a moment but then stepped out in to the coldOld Bill had been walking for about 5 minutes and all though it was freezing somehow he couldn’t help but feel cheerful so he started to whistle a tune as he walked.
He was now crossing a old framers field and it was freezing cold the wind was blowing the snow was falling and the devil was blowing his horns. The old farmer and one of his men were feeding the cows and they could hear old Bill a whistling and singing as he approached them.
“My it’s good to hear a young man so cheerful on such a cold day” the old farmer said to his work man.
The farmer stopped what he was doing and called out to old Bill
“hello son what brings you out on this cold day”
Old Bill came up to the famer and answered
“hello sir I’m looking for a bit of work ya got any fing for me”
The famer looked at Old bill sadly and said
“I’m sorry son i wish i had but I’m only just getting by myself”
Old Bill smiled at the farmer
“that aright sir I’ll find sank for the days out “
The farmer smiled back at old Bill
“I’m sure you will lad and good luck to you “
Old Bill walked on but as he passed the farmers barn he saw an old three wheel bike at the side that was just like one he had when he was a boy he stopped for a few seconds to look at it but then walked on .
Old Bill had been walking again for about another 10 minutes when he came to a car that was struggling to get up a hill there was three more cars behind it and they were all stuck at the bottom of this very steep hill. Old bill stood back and watch them struggling for a few minutes but then he had a idea come to him, so he walked other to the man in the first car and said
“alright mush, i mint be able ta help ya out, if i got ya to the top of the hill would ya see me all right”
The man told old Bill he would gladly pay him if he could only get him to the top of the hill as he had a very important meeting to go to and was late already, so old Bill told the man he’d be back in a bit and went off back down the road that he had came from.
When old Bill got back to the farm the farmer was no longer feeding the cows but was mending a fence that the wind had blown down.
”you back lad” the farmer ask old Bill smiling at him
“yes sir, i wondered if ya’d do me a kindness sir, and lend me that old bike i see at the side there and a rope”
The old farmer looked at old Bill puzzled and said
“your more than welcome lad but can’t see what good it is to you in this weather”
Old Bill thanked the farmer, then went and got the bike at the side of the barn. When he came back to the farmer, the farmer gave him a rope he had got from one of the sheds.
” I’ll have em back ta ya in a bit sir “he told the farmer as he set on the bike with the rope other his shoulders and stared to ride away.
“He’s a kind old man” old Bill said to himself as he rode with the farmer watching him go.
It only took old Bill about 5 minutes to get back to where the cars were stuck and as Old Bill approached them the man that was from the first car walked forward to meet him.
”so what’s ya plan” he asked old Bill,
”arr ya see in the minuet” he told the man, then ride his bike to the front of the car and started to tie the rope to the bike and the car.
The man from the first car started laughing his head off
“are you mad man” he asked old Bill “you can’t move a car with a bike”
Old Bill just ignored the man and carried on tying the bike to the car, the man thought that old Bill must be a mad man, so he thought he would go along with old Bill so as not to upset him. Old Bill told the man to get in his car and drive, the man laughing did as he was told.
By this time the people from the other cars were all standing watching, and as the man tried to drive his car up the hill with old Bill on the bike at the front paddling his hardest they were all roaring with laughter, old Bill just ignored them and carried on paddling even harder.
As old Bill was paddling he was panting and groaning and going red in the face and the sweat was dripping from him but still he went on paddling
“give up you nutter” shouted one of the laughing people but still old Bill went on paddling.
”aww son it can’t be done” shouted someone else but still old Bill went on paddling.
But then there was a grasp of disbelief from the people as they saw the car start to slowly move a little up the hill, little by little it moved and still old Bill went on paddling. Now people where starting to cheer and shout encouragement to old Bill and the car moved on a little more and still old Bill went on paddling.
When the car at last reached the top of the hill old Bill at last stopped paddling, and a cheer went out from the people, old Bill just smiled and went to get his money from the man. The man thanked old Bill; hardly believing what just took place, and gave him not only what they agreed but money on top. After thanking the man old Bill put the money in his pocket and went back down the hill to the other men with stuck cars and ask them did they want his help too, to which they all said yes.
Old Bill towed 4 more cars before he was finished, all the time with people cheering and hardly believing what they saw. When all the people and cars where gone old Bill made his way back to the farm to take back the bike and rope to the old farmer.
When the old farmer saw old Bill he gave him another kind smile and said
“my work man said i wouldn’t see you again lad but i knew i would”
Old Bill returned the farmers smile, and knew he had found a friend to day as well as earning enough to keep him and his old mum and dad feed ,to his old dad was back on his feet again . Old Bill said his goodbye’s to the farmer then went off to the shop to get some food.
Old Bills mum and dad was starting to get worried about their boy, it was dark outside now and the snow was falling heavy
” i wonder were me bitta tikna’s at?”Old Bill’s mum asked of old Bills dad.
Old Bills dad looked in to the fire as the last flickering flames were about to go out
“let the chivvy bide rakly he’ll be alrite,” old Bills dad said trying to keep the worry from his voice.
They both looked in to the fire and old Bills mum said “the yogs gone out”
Old Bill’s dad took old Bills mum’s hand in his and looked at her
“I’ll have a dikk what we got ta burn when the chavvy gets back” he told her .
So old Bills mum got up went and got a blanket and came back and set down next to old Bills dad and wrapped it around them both as they both set their cold hungry and worried .
They heard a noise, it was someone whistling and singing.
Old Bill’s mum jumped up and run to the door and opened it she would know her boys voice anywhere. Old bill came in the door loaded down with coal for the fire and tobacco for his old dad and tea and milk and sugar and bread and bacon and beans and so much more
“put the old pan on then muv” he said handing his mother the food.
Old Bills mum dropped the food and threw her arms around her boy and kissed him.
That night they all eat well around a warm fire and went to bed later that night warm well feed and happy.
Rosie Smith
2008The Black Widow by Shahnee
A long time ago when my grandmother was a child she remembered a lady of wealth who never left her large house on the outskirts of the village where her family would sometimes camp.
The locals said that this lady had done so much wrong in her life that she dare not venture out. Some of them said it was a Gypsy curse but my grandmother and her family knew this was a lie.
So this is the story:
When the lady was just 16 yrs she was said to be the greatest beauty of the village, but her family where poor. But the local landowner, though widowed and elderly, did not care that she was poor and asked her hand in marriage , so taken was he by her beauty.
Of course her family excepted the offer, it was a good match for the girl and the family, but the girl was heartbroken and vowed never to love the old man!
From her wedding day, it was said, she plotted the death of the old man, and sure enough, just a few years later he died in mysterious circumstances – but no one could prove that the girl had murdered him.
Just a year later another wealthy, but younger, man fell in love with her beauty and asked for her hand in marriage. Of course the family agreed, though they were now wealthy from the first marriage, they hoped to keep and further their wealth again. So it was that the young girl married again; and again, just a few years later, the young man had a fatal accident and died. Once again no one could prove that she had murdered him, but the village began to talk.
Just 2yrs later the girl was married again to another wealthy man and no one was surprised when he disappeared just months after the wedding – still no one could prove she had anything to do with the disappearance, but the village and her family believed the worst.
The village people would not visit the house or even pass by it and the family avoided contacting the girl. So it was that she was alone , not even 30, and a widow 3 times! At first she would go into the town to to get food and meat, but as she entered the villagers would scatter and their children run and hide. So she went to her family to ask them to go for her, but they wouldn’t even open their doors to speak to her. Eventually she stayed within her large house and sent the one servant, who had not left her side, to collect the food from the village.
The village children would throw rocks at the windows and the village elders would spit as they went past her gate – she would watch from inside her house and curse each one of them for their misdeeds towards her, and as she did so her anger grew and grew.
Though she never showed her anger to her servant, she angered showed in a blackness that began to envelop her body. When one morning the servant took breakfast to her, nothing could be seen but a black cocoon laid on the bed.
Weeks went to months and months to years until one day the cocoon cracked open and out crawled the largest blackest spider that the servant had ever seen. It was as wide as the bed and its eight legs dangled over onto the floor. The servant was terrified and went to run, but the voice of his mistress came from the spider:
“Do not go, I am still your mistress”.
No one had seen the lady for so long that they thought her dead, but when the servant began visiting the village to buy food again, the villagers became suspicious. They crept along to the house and sneakily peaked in the windows. What they saw horrified them and they ran screaming back to the village. The lady, now a huge spider yelled at them from the windows:
“This is your doing, see what you have made me become!”
The anger and pain of the lady grew and as it did, do did her spiders body and legs, till she barely could move and remained within the one room.
Her soul became desolate and she refused to eat and so the servant became worried. He visited the nearest town to find a doctor. But word of his mistress had spread and so the doctor would not come for fear of his life. The servant despaired and began walking the long journey home, afraid and concerned for his mistress.
As he rounded a bend there on the side of a road was a Gypsy wagon with the family sat around the fire. He knew that some Gypsies sold herbal remedies for illnesses and wondered if they could perhaps help his mistress.
He greeted them and told them his sad plight.
The Gypsy mother answered him:“I will come, with what little I have, and see what can be done”.
With that he and the Gypsy mother left to walk the long distance back to the house. It was almost morning when they arrived and the servant had still not the courage to tell the Gypsy what awaited her.
They entered the house and the Gypsy asked that the curtains be opened. “How else can I help if I cannot see”, she said.
Hesitently he opened the curtains and the Gypsy turned to view the site, she gasped, but did not run and instead nodded her head in understanding.
“Can you help?”, he asked, “They say my mistress is plagued by a Gypsy curse, but I cannot believe it, as no Gypsy had ever come near to this house”.
“We do not curse,” said the Gypsy mother, quietly. “It is the deeds of the person which curses them, I cannot help here”, and she turned to leave.
“Please,” begged the servant, ”My mistress needs your help, is there nothing you can do?”.
The Gypsy mother felt deeply for the servant, as he had been so loyal and sat down to think as hard as she could if she could help in any way. As she sat she began to talk to the lady. The spiders black eyes glinted with tears:
“You need not talk to me,” she said, “I am a frightening ugly sight”.
“How did you come to be this way?”, the Gypsy mother asked, and the lady related the sad tale of her womanhood.
At the end the Gypsy mother nodded and said:“I cannot help you, my lady”.
The servant began to protest, and the Gypsy mother held up her hand to quieten him, saying:
“I cannot help - she has given herself this body and therefore no herbs I have can heal her.”
The spider began to cry and crawled towards the darkness of corners of the room. The Gypsy mother walked and knelt down beside her, she took hold of one of the legs and remarked:
“How soft are your legs, how shiny the hair, there is hidden beauty here.”
“I am not beautiful”, snapped the lady, “I once was beautiful but look where it got me – beauty destroyed my life and others hated me for it”.
“How did your husbands make you a widow?”, asked the Gypsy.
“How am I am widow, you mean?”, replied the lady.
“No”, said the Gypsy, “I mean – what could your husbands have done to you, that you would become a widow?”.
The lady began to sob with relief, ”You don’t believe I murdered them?”, she asked.
The Gypsy mother shook her head, “No, if that had been your deed, then you would had been always been as you are now. But this was not the case. So tell me, how did your husbands make you a widow?”
The lady began to tell the Gypsy how she became a widow three times.
“My first husband was very old, and although he was rich and my family liked that, I did not love him. But he told me that it was clear I loved his money or I would not have married him. He would not believe that I married him only to please my family, and when I would not love him, he took his own life. I blame myself, I thought that I was too beautiful for such an old man and and told him so – it is my vanity that murdered him”.
“My second husband was a handsome man, but very cruel. He married me to gain money, as he had none of his own. He lied to my family but they were so greedy they did not see his deceit. He believed that I had much jewellery and money hidden in this house, though I told him I had none. He tried to push me down the stairs so that he might kill me. But though I fell I survived and then he rushed down the stairs to end me once and for all. But as he rushed, he himself, stumbled on the stairs and broke his neck. It is because I lived, he died.”
“My third husband was a good man who loved me, not my wealth, and I loved him dearly in return,” she said, ”But I could l not show my love, no matter now kindly he treated me. It was because of me that my other two husbands died – it should have been me who died, not them and I knew that he would die as the others had died. So I told him to leave as I could not bear that he should die for me. But he would not leave so I argued with him and told him I did not love him. With such pain in his eyes he left that day, and I have not seen him since.”
The Gypsy nodded, “So the villagers believe you murdered them, and think very badly of you?”
The spider nodded, “But they are right, if it were not for me, they would all be here! So the villagers are right and I deserve all they say and do to me – even though I got angry at them, I am more angry with myself!”
“This then is your illness”, said the Gypsy, “ This body that you have now is merely the reflection of what you believe you are inside. Black, ugly, evil and dead. But I see nothing, only that which was already there – soft dark hair, soft warm eyes, long strong legs and a broken heart – so what changed? Only how you see yourself, my dear. Others will only see you as you see yourself, they will only love you if you love yourself and they will only forgive you when you have forgiven yourself. This then is the remedy that you need for what ails you!”.
The Gypsy mother continued, “Why do you think that this servant stays with you when all the others have left?”.
“Because he is loyal and pities me”, replied the lady.
“No”, the Gypsy countered, “Because he does not see you the way you see yourself. He knows that the real beauty lies within and it is that he loves and it is for that he stays”.
The servant nodded, without a word, and stepped forward he knelt before the lady.
“I will always love you, no matter how you think you look,” he said, “For I never saw nor loved your bodily beauty, all I ever saw was the greater beauty of your heart and soul”.
Then the servant lent and kissed the lady gently on the cheek.
The Gypsy rose and went to walk from the room, but the lady stopped her, saying:
“But how can I ever be loved as a spider!”
“Are you a spider?”, the Gypsy mother asked, “I see no spider”, and turning to the servant she asked, “Do you?”, and the servant shook his head.
She moved to a covered mirror in the corner of the room and removed the sheet, “Come, look for yourself”.
The lady came close to mirror and gasped, for staring back at her was the body of her former self and the spider had disappeared.
“How can I thank you?,” the lady asked the Gypsy.
“You have no need to thank me, this is of your doing not mine. But always remember that you were never cursed by another, it was you who cursed yourself”.
And with that the Gypsy mother turned and left, whispering these words to herself: “It is as it should be - what goes around, comes around”.
A child was asked to write a short piece on their favourite person from history at school, this is what she wrote:
My mom is 40 this years.
She is getting married this year to a man who isn't english.
My mom is getting married the day before her birthday. Mom is so excited about the
wedding. She is already planning it.
Mom is really happy and kind. She looks after us and the rest of the family. Mommy is the perfect person to talk to.and She is a fabulous cook. She always tries to make every occasion brilliant. She makes sure that we have enough food and drink. "But this is not a person from history", her teacher told her.
She helps us and keeps us healthy and safe, and for all mom's done for the family and me I Love her.
The child replied,"My mommy says we make our own history!"
A young mother of 3 moved to a 2 bed roomed house in an old part of the town. Her next door neighbours where a large Muslim family, and the father had fought in the World War 2 for England, in a Gerka Regiment.
The five sons all grown, worked the taxis, and every Sunday would come with their families to see their father and mother. There were three daughters still at home and both mother and father, by now elderly, were cared for by the entire family.
If any mischief happened between the young mothers' two eldest, then 5 and 3, and his grandchildren, (which happens with children), the Gentleman would correct it and always make the grandchildren apologise , where necessary. At Christmas they sent cards and presents to each other and again at Ede, if the young mother needed a taxi his sons would run her anywhere for little or no money - the muslim family were altogether lovely people!!
Just 10 days after Christmas, that first year, the young mothers' youngest child died aged 6 months died, quite suddenly and unexpectantly. As you can imagine, she was devastated - returning home from the hospital the following morning she sank to the lowest low she had ever had. Her baby sons' Christmas presents were still beneath the tree (he had been too ill to open them), his clothes lay drying on the radiators and his bottles where ready made still in the fridge - she sat and cried and cried - her world had fallen apart! There was a knock on the door and there stood the Muslim Gentleman, he asked if the young mother was alright, as he had seen the ambulance at her house the evening before. She told him her baby son had died - the Gentleman began to cry and asked if there was anything he could do - but the young mothers' mind was so swimming she just burst into tears again!! Calmly he fetched his wife and she sat comforting the young mother, whilst his eldest daughters dressed her children and then took them to school. Through out the next week her world seemed so blurred - but constantly at herside was the Gentleman and his family - they cleaned her house, cooked for her and her other children, took the children wherever they need to go, entertained them when they weren’t at school, took the young mother shopping and just generally cared for her as if she were one of their own. For the wake they prepared food and ALL his family refused to work on the day of the funeral as a mark of respect - as the hearse drew up with her darling boy inside the young mother wept uncontrollably. But there, flanking her pathway were the Gentleman’s’ ENTIRE family, heads bowed in respect. The Gentleman handed a beautiful bunch of flowers to the young mother and , thinking they were for the casket, she walked towards the hearse. At this point the Gentleman stopped her and gently shook his head: “No, these are not for your son”, he said tearfully, “These are for you - Others may grieve for your son, but we grieve for you - we give them for LOVE! “ ©2007
He rushe
d across the floor, narrowly missing the bang of the paper behind him. WACK! His 8 long hairy legs were getting tired and he couldn’t find a hiding place – Samuel knew his time was up!
WACK! All was dark and cold – the paper had finally found Samuel!
Then there was warmth and a white comforting light and a voice whispering to Samuel.
Wake up. Samuel, open your eyes!”
Samuel opened his eyes slowly, “Am I am in heaven?” he asked.
“Some would call it that, yes”, the voice answered.
“So I’m dead?” he enquired.
“Well, let’s just say sleeping. Samuel - I have a job for you”
“What can I do? I’m just a spider”, he said. “And people are scared
of me!”
“That’s precisely why I need you”, the voice answered, “You see
Samuel, I want you to go back, but not as you were – as you are
now. With special gifts that will help people, will you do this for
me?”.
“Ok, but don’t blame me if I get squashed again!” he said, and with that Samuel closed his eyes
Samuel opened his eyes to find himself at the bottom of a garden that he didn’t recognised. A big clever blackbird was eyeing him up and Samuel decided to run to the cover of the back door which seemed very far away.
After what seemed like an eternity of running, Samuel found himself in the cool and safe confines of a kitchen cupboard. But had no idea what he should be doing next!
From outside the cupboard Samuel could hear the sounds of gentle sobbing and crawled slowly out from a hole at the edge of the cupboard door.
There sat on a chair was a little girl, her short brown curls bobbing as she cried into the arms of a tall, but pleasant looking woman. Another
Woman, a great deal older, was stood near by; she spoke quietly to the pleasant woman:
“It should only be short term just until we find her relatives,
I know its short notice but …………….”
The Pleasant woman interrupted, “It’s no problem, really it isn’t, and that’s what I’m here for”.
And with that the 0lder woman left, and the pleasant woman took the little girls hand and led her out of the kitchen.
When it was night and the entire house was quiet, Samuel crawled out from his hiding place and ran quickly across the floor. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he could hear the little girl crying again, the journey up the stairs wasn’t going to be easy as at the top there sat a large ginger cat! He knew cats and he didn’t like them one bit! He remembered how one of his friends had become toy for a Tabby cat along time ago. It had played with him like a toy until his friend curled up and died! Urrggghhh!
Cats, he thought, I hate them!
He closed his eyes and thought of the little girl still crying upstairs – somehow he had to get to her, although he didn’t know why. When he opened his eyes, much to his own surprise he was sat on the wall above the little girls’ bed, looking down on her.
She looked at him and stopped crying momentarily.
“Where’d you come from?” she said.
“Aren’t you frightened of me?” he asked.
“No”, said the little girl, “My mummy says that I shouldn’t be, because
she says you are more frightened of us, then we are of you”,
and with that she smiled weakly at him.
“That’s so true”, said Samuel, “sounds like your mommy is a very clever
lady. I’m Samuel, by the way” and he smiled back.
“I’m Chleo and my Mummy IS very clever”, she said, “But now she’s
gone away, and I miss her. She went into hospital to have my little
brother and now they’ve both gone to heaven!”, and with that she
started to cry again.
Now Samuel understood why the little girl was so upset. He crawled down from wall and on to the cover of the bed. As he did so he felt his legs begin to stretch and his body begin to grow – what’s going on here? He thought.
As he came closer to the little girl, she stopped crying and gasped.
“What happened to you – you’re bigger then before?” she asked.
“Not sure I can answered that”, said Samuel sheepishly, “But don’t
worry, I won’t hurt you, I think it’s supposed to happen”
He thought for a moment, “Do you know”, he said, “I’ve been to
Heaven and its actually quite nice – kind of warm and light”.
“Is it? Mummy liked sunny days because they were warm and light,
Is it the same thing?” she paused for a moment and then continued,
“But you don’t come back from heaven, do you? And I want Mummy
to come back!”, and she started to cry again.
Samuel felt very sad, “Well”, he said, “I think it must be a warm, sunny
day there all the time! And no, I don’t think my body came back – but
I most certainly did!”.
“But that’s silly!” said the little girl, “How can you come back without
your body? And anyway I can see your body – but it is a little see-
through though – like a glass”
Samuel thought about this for a minute – she had a point! And then it came to him!
“Well, it’s not my body you’re seeing but me!” he said. The little girl looked puzzled, so Samuel tried to explain further.
“Thing is,” he said,”It’s not our bodies that make us who we are, now is
it?
It’s something inside. All spiders have 8 legs and a head, but they’re
not all me, are they? And all people have 2 legs, 2 arms and a head,
but they’re not all your mommy, either. Get it?”
The little girl nodded, “But why can’t I see Mummy, like I see you, why
Cant I talk to her, like I’m talking to you?”
Samuel thought for a moment, “Well, maybe you can. Close your eyes”
Samuel wasn’t sure was he was doing, but he was sure it was the right thing to do, so he carried on anyway.
“Now , can you remember when your Mommy did something nice for
You, before she went to heaven?”
The little girl nodded, and then gasped, “I can see Mummy!”
“Those nice things, you remember,” Samuel continued, “Are memories,
and every time you close your eyes and remember your mummy, you’ll
see her. So you see, she hasn’t really gone away, has she?”
The little girl opened her eyes, “Can I talk to her?”
Samuel nodded, “And she’ll answer you, just like before she went
away”.
The little girl smiled.
“You see, “said Samuel, “Every time you think of her, you’ll have a
memory in your head and you’ll see her. And if you always keep
those memories and never forget them, then you’ll never forget
your mummy, and she’ll never go away!”
The little girl began to laugh and then suddenly she stopped and began to cry again, “But I miss her”, she said.
“Of course you do, and you always will, and it’s ok to cry because
you miss her, but then all you have to do is remember, and then
you’ll laugh again!”
The little girl smiled, “Thank you, Samuel!”
“You’re welcome”, he replied.
And with that Samuel closed his eyes and he was back in the kitchen cupboard, safe and warm, sleeping soundly with a smile on his face.
A few days later Samuel awoke to hear quite a commotion outside the kitchen cupboard, so he crawled out to see what it was all about.
Another old lady was stood in the kitchen hugging Chleo and the pleasant lady was smiling at them both. Chleo was crying again – but this time it was different – it seemed, these were happy tears! People are so confusing, he thought.
The little girl scrambled down from the old ladies’ arms and ran over to
Samuel, bending she whispered to him, “Its Granny, she’s come to get me. I’m going to live with her now.”
“That’s good”, said Samuel, “And don’t forget, your mummy is only
a memory away, don’t forget, ok?”
“I won’t”, she smiled,” And I won’t forget you, Samuel, Thank you.”
She bent forward and kissed him, “Bye, Samuel”, and with she waved and went back to her Granny.
As they left the kitchen, Samuel heard the Granny say to the pleasant lady,
“Was she talking to a spider?”
The pleasant lady nodded, “Yes, she seems to have made friends with
It!”
“How strange!” the the Granny replied, “But it seems to make her happy”
And with that, Chleo and her Granny were gone and Samuel returned to his cupboard to sleep.
A long time went by and then Samuel awoke, he could hear crying again, and scurried out to see who it was. On the kitchen chair sat a young boy, who was being comforted by the pleasant lady.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’m sure that are a new mummy and daddy
are just waiting to come and collect you, really soon”
“But I don’t want to be adopted!” cried the young boy, and he began to cry again.
Oh No! Thought Samuel, here we go again!!
THE END
© 2005 Shahnee
Once in island far away there lived a Monkey. He was born on the forest floor but as he grew he climbed higher and higher into the branches of the tree, above where he had been bor
n, until one day he reached the top.
Looking down he could see the other monkeys as they began their journey up the trees. He saw how other older monkeys threw fruit at the younger ones knocking them from the trees and then watched how persistently the younger ones tried to climb up again only to be knocked down by the fruit again. Each time they gained a little height until eventually they reached the top and found the sweetest fruit to eat.
He saw also saw how the tiniest monkey would scrabbled about the base of the trees picking up the fruit and eating it, gaining strength for their arduous trial to climb up the trees and gain the sweetest fruit. One tiny monkey caught his eye, the smallest of all, he was always beaten to the fruit and consequently never gained the strength to climb the trees.
This saddened the Monkey, he wished he could leave his tree top and go the tiny monkey’s aid, but he knew he could not. If he left his tree he knew he would lose his space at the top and have to start the arduous journey once again and younger, more agile monkeys would beat him - he would lose his tree top forever.
So there he stayed, but each day he watched the tiny monkey and was so moved by the little ones plight he began to cry and scream silently. No other monkeys heard his screams and no one came to the aid of the tiny monkey, who never complained and remained on the forest floor.
Out in the bay a shoal of mermaids went about their daily business, except one. She looked to the shore each day and the trees on the horizon and wondered what it must be like to live on land.
One day she popped her head above the waves and heard cries and screams coming from the island. Venturing further in, she dragged herself onto the beach. Slowly she dragged herself into the forest and to the base of the tree were she could still hear the cries and screams from up above.
She looked up and saw the Monkey.
“Why do you cry so?”, she asked.
“Because I cannot help the tiny monkey at the bottom”, he replied.
“But you could just come down from the tree top and help him, couldn’t you?”
“Oh no!”, he exclaimed, “If I do that the other monkeys will surely take my place and I will never get the sweetest fruit again, so its best I stay when I am!”
“But why does that matter so much?”, she asked, ”When there is so much fruit on the ground already?”
“But I’d never get to it in time, the younger monkeys would get there first and then I wouldn’t be strong enough to get back to the tree top!”, he replied.
“But I can keep some fruit for you“, she offered.
But the Monkey was not convinced and the Mermaid returned to the sea.
Day after the day the Monkey continued to cry, and day after the day the mermaid continued to come and offer help to him - but he flatly refused.
One day the Monkey saw the other small monkeys attacking the tiny monkey and so outraged that he scurried down the tree and shooed them away. He then fought other monkeys for the fruit and fed it to the tiny monkey, then pushed the tiny monkey up the tree so that he could begin to climb it. Each time the tiny one fell the Monkey fed him and pushed him back up the tree and by the sunset the tiny monkey had reached the tree top and safely nestled in the leaves feeding off the sweetest fruit.
The Monkey was satisfied for a moment and then realised his predicament! He had fought for the spare fruit with the other monkeys to give it to the tiny one and hadn’t eaten himself! He wasn’t strong enough now to climb the tree and his tree top was lost forever. Sad and dejected he wandered to the beach and sat there weeping.
It was then that he saw the Mermaid dragging herself up the beach and she came to sit beside him.
“Well, what are you crying for now? You’re out of the tree”, she said.
“Yes, I’m out of the tree!”, exclaimed the Monkey angrily and he carried on to explain the events of the day to the bewildered Mermaid.
The Mermaid was touched by the Monkey’s deeds and wished there was something she could do to help him. Scanning the horizon she saw a lone tree on the cliff edge , it boughs almost breaking with sweet ripe fruit.
“How about that tree up there?”, she suggested.
“No one lives there,” said the Monkey, “Its too remote, and I’d be lonely!”
“No you wouldn’t, “she replied, “because I would be with you, we could live there together”
So the Monkey and the Mermaid reached an agreement. They would live together at the base of the tree on the cliff. The Monkey would collect fruit every morning for breakfast while the Mermaid swam in the bay every evening to catch fish for supper.
Everyday the Mermaid waited at the bottom of the tree and collected the fruit as the Monkey threw it to her. After breakfast the Mermaid would jump off the cliff and return to the sea. As the sun set the Monkey would go to the beach and carry the Mermaid and the fish she had caught back up the cliff. Then they would have supper and fall asleep in the moonlight beneath the boughs of the tree.
For many years this continued - The Monkey and the Mermaid living together beneath the tree on the cliff.
One day the Monkey laughed:
“Don’t you think it strange that after all this time you and I, a Monkey and a Mermaid, are still happily living together, beneath this tree?”
“Not really”, said the Mermaid, “We may be different animals, but we have the same feelings - its called LOVE!”
THE END
© 2005 Shahnee
I'd like you to know why i wrote this story. Eerrrmmmm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I'm still working on the story to answere that question! LOL!
As some of you may know i am a storyteller and strongly believe that storytelling can be a HEALING ART.
There have been times in my chavvies lives when despite my best endeavours i have been unable to answere tricky questions about difficult subjects, some painful and others just dam right confusing to chavvie and adult alike. So i tell them stories and i find these often help in the understanding and healing process.
My first story for my chavvies was Samuel Spider, written for eldest 2 chavvie when their little brother died, they were only 5 and 3 at the time.
The story above was concieved from a dream i had some time ago, I often find answeres in dreams and this answere came from concerns i had about an incident involving my littlest rackli. She had come home from school very distressed and upset. Some children had called her PAKI and bullied her about her colouring - saying she was different and didint belong there.
Whilst my explanations for their bulling seem to be understood by my daughter, she was still confused as to why different colours/religion/nationality/race coudnt live together.
I told her they do and can live together but she didnt understand how if they were DIFFERENT in language/culture etc how that could possibly work - so hence the story of THE MONKEY AND THE MERMAID .
From this story my daughter realised what it takes for people to live together, and her response?
"But mummy, if thats all you need to do, why dont people do it?"
Kushti bok!
A single
woman dances away with others on the dance floor, she pays no heed to the others dancing there, and enjoys the music. Occasionally her brother looks across to check on her - as is the way, he has escorted her, to make sure of her safety.
She leaves the dance floor and goes to her brother, they stand there sipping drinks and talking, when a young man approaches and asks her for a dance. Her brother nods his approval and they step on to the dance floor.
The woman is surprised, unlike other Non-Romani men he does not place his hands on her, instead dancing at a respectful distance. They spend some time dancing and talking and leave the dance floor, always in sight of the women’s’ bother.
The young man introduces her to his brother and sister, he tells her he and his brother is escorting their sister in the same manner as her brother. This surprises the woman, Non-Rom men are not known for this!
Politely the young man asks if he might have her phone number and might ring her and talk with her, and she agrees, with her brother nodding approval once more.
For some weeks they talk on the phone, but he works and she is a divorced mother with 6 children, so there is little opportunity to meet up. Some 8 wks pass and the young man invites the woman out on their first date.
He insists they won’t be alone his brother and sister will be there, and asks her to attend too, again the woman is surprised - this definitely isn’t the Non-Rom way!
The evening goes well with the young man being respectful throughout, never trying to touch or kiss the woman! At the end of the evening all thank each other for a good evening and prepare to go separate ways.
The young man respectfully asks for a kiss and once given approval from the woman’s' brother, kisses her gently on the cheek, and says good night.
After many weeks of courting and always with someone present the young man asks for the womans’ hand in marriage. He can’t ask her father for permission as he is not available, so seeks it from her brother, which is given.
She enquires as to why he should choose her as his wife; he replies,
"You are a lady with manners and respect for yourself and others. You are the most beautiful woman I have seen and I love you!"
"People could become quite nasty, people don’t like gypsy!"
"I knew you wern't like other women", he said, smiling, "because of your manners, respect and being so much a lady!"
The woman felt sure that he didn’t know what a Romani is, so showed him - the language, the vardo, the road, infact all she could to explain herself.
The young man simply smiled again,
"My dad speaks the language, but I’m not good at it, and he’s spoken it all his life."
"Are you Romani?” she asks.
"Very possibly!” he replies with humour.
The woman was so happy, and now understood - the manners, respect and good behaviour were due to his upbringing.
Like had found like in a crowded place, and had recognised the Romani within!
Her engagement ring wass the one she chose, her wedding dress was a dream come true. Her children will be present and the newlyweds will be driven away afterwards in horse and carriage.
Infact their wedding will be as Romani as possibly can be in this modern Non-Rom world!
A fairytale you may think?! Or a memory from a grandmother told to the grand children?!
No! The woman was married to the young man in 2006!
THE END
©2005 Shahnee
