Tell Me a Story Podcast

It's not a dog, if it can fit inside another dog's mouth!It's not a dog, if it can be accidentally vacuumed up.It's not a dog, if it can be killed by a cat.It's not a dog, if it can be carried off by a medium-sized pigeon.It's not a dog, if it can be out-wrestled by a rat. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

When I walked into our living room, I discovered that our expensive paisley sofa pillow was in shreds.I asked our teenage son whether he knew which of our cats was responsible."It was Sammy," he replied."How do you know?" I asked in return."I watched him," he said.And that was enough. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

In the beginning, West Point: A Novel shadows new Cadet John Paul (Jake) Jacobs on his first day of Beast Barracks. Educational perhaps to the reader, but a mind-stunning indoctrination for those that have been chosen to be a cadet at the United States Military Academy at West Point. The following excerpt is a precursor of the adventure to unfold."What the hell is this, Lamont?" the table commandant said, staring at the apple pie in disbelief. "Eyes up here. All you, smacks, look at this!"The new cadets reluctantly looked to the head of the table as the old cadet held the pie at an angle for them to see. There may have been ten pieces. But then again, there might have been more, or less. One piece was the size of a full third and others were cut so thin they would not make for a single bite. "I'm not believing this, Lamont! This is pitiful! Fix it!"The pie was shuffled back down the table toward Lamont, handled by the new cadets along the way as though it were a live grenade. Everyone at the table had the same thought. How does one recut an already cut pie? The question was terrifying because it was apparent that the table commandant fully expected the pie to be fixed. The beads of sweat were no longer confined to the back of Lamont's neck. The pressure. His face suddenly glistened as though he had just walked in from a heavy rain."Well, fix it, Lamont!" the demon-possessed old cadet shouted.Following two or three minutes of silence at the table with all three upperclassmen staring at Lamont, as he in turn, helplessly stared at the pie in front of him while praying for a miracle, Cantrell said, "Mister Jacobs!""Yes, sir!" Jake replied, wondering what this God-awful dilemma had to do with him."Since you claim to be the most handsome among your classmates, and since you are from Texas, I'm sure you'll have no problem helping your classmate. Take the pie from Mister Lamont. You fix it!"Jake hesitated. Lamont's fear was contagious. After a moment, he took the pie and placed it next to his plate as ordered. A reasonable solution to the problem seemed to escape him because of the distracting thought of wanting to reach out with both hands and strangle Lamont."Well, Jacobs," Cantrell said. "We're waiting. Surely a Texan can do something as simple as fix a broken pie."Without a moment's hesitation, Jake picked up his spoon, and viciously attacked the pie. He decimated it into a thousand tiny pieces and vented his anger at Cantrell's flippant insults toward the State of Texas. As he slashed at the pie with wild swings, bits and pieces took to the air and splattered both Patrick and Lamont.In less than ten seconds, Jake dropped the spoon with a loud clatter, picked up the pie in both hands, and announced in a military manner, "Sir! Apple cobbler to the head of the table for inspection, please sir!"Silence followed for a full minute. All three of the upperclassmen sat stunned, mouths slightly open, eyes staring at Jake in disbelief as he sat with the recently acquired cobbler extended in front of him.Upperclassmen at adjacent tables had heard the pie problem as it developed and its solution. They now came over to the table with the same unbelieving stare. In that silent minute, the table was surrounded by upperclassmen who came to get a closer look at the bold before June plebe and to see how Cadet Captain Jonathan Scott, the company commander of the 7th New Cadet Company, was going to handle the situation. Or, possibly, to try to prevent the murder of a new cadet in front of so many witnesses.Without moving the pie, or his eyes, Jake was very much aware of the mob gathering. A single bead of sweat slowly rolled down his back, an excruciating sensation adding misery to an already hopeless situation.Find out more about this wonderful novel here: https://jmpattonauthor.com. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

I have two minutes in my pocket to spare.If you have need of them for me to share.They have no rhythm, but they do have rhymeThese two minutes of universal time.I have them to spareIf you need me to share.Just say God Bless You to someone nearby.The minutes will be yours to try.Don't worry about exhausting this supply.The minutes replenish on the fly!I have two minutes in my pocket to spare.If you have need of them for me to share. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Here's a little M&M's humor to lighten your day.I just dumped a pack of M&M's into my mask at work and am slowly eating them like a horse. I love the pandemic!More M&M's humor. Which is your favorite joke?Q. How can you tell that a Swede has been baking chocolate chip cookies? A. There are M&M shells all over the counter.Q. Why do Americans hate M&M's? A. They're too hard to peel.M&M's are cheaper than therapy. And you don't need an appointment!In Heaven, M&M's have no calories and are served as the main course.My therapist told me the way to achieve inner peace is to finish what I start. So far today, I've finished two bags of M&M's and a chocolate cake. I feel better already.Yo momma is so stupid. She tried to put M&M's in alphabetical order.The only thing better than a friend is a friend with a bag of M&M's she wants to share.What is the meaning of life? All evidence to date suggest it's M&M's.Save this planet! It's the only one with M&M's.M&M's are made from cocoa, which is a tree. A tree is a plant. That makes M&M's a salad!I'd give up M&M's, but I'm not a quitter.Which of the above jokes did you like best? Do you have a favorite? Is there one that had you rolling in the aisles? Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Earlier this year, police were called to the scene of a dispute between a woman and a man who was selling a secret formula elixir that he claimed gave eternal youth. As a result of the dispute, the man was arrested.It was the sixth time he'd been arrested for promoting a medical fraud.The fact is the man had previously been arrested in 1789, 1842, 1885, 1923, and 1986. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

If you love something, set it free.If it comes back, it was, and always will be, yours.If it never returns, it was never yours to begin with.If it just sits in your living room,messes up your stuff,eats your food,uses your telephone,takes your money,and never behaves as if you actually set it free in the first place,you either married it or gave birth to it!— Anonymous on the Internet Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

"What time is it, Grandfather? Nap time? Play time?" teased the little boy."I will give you an answer that you won't understand, but maybe you'll remember," the old man said as he pulled the little boy onto his lap."All right," said the boy."When I was your age, time stretched out before me—it was forever. There was time for everything. But I couldn't wait to grow up. Then, when I grew up, time was never enough for all I had to do. And it fell away and disappeared. I was always running. Now, I am an old man, and time is short. It stretches out behind me. I can't run any more. But finally I know, I really do know. Time is forever." Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Never doubt what one prayer can do.Say your prayer today.Even just one prayer can change your lifeor the life of your loved onesor the life of a stranger.Or the life of the world.Your choice.Your prayer. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

The InventionWe wish, all of us, to exceed our own inventionsto create and then to go beyond that creation,to enter into it and make it live,breathing life into the lifeless,stirring the immovable.We fail, but we continue.We invent machine after machine,each exceeding the next,becoming more refined,more capable,more effective.And still we build, paint dance sing writeagain and again,ever aiming to excel.The direction is obvious:We wish to build the perfect machine.We are aiming for ourselves. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.He was very much admired indeed. "He is as beautiful as a weathercock," remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes. "Only not quite so useful," he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not."Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. "The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.""I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy," muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue."He looks just like an angel," said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores."How do you know?" said the Mathematical Master, "You have never seen one.""Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered the children. And the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her."Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer."It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the other Swallows. "She has no money and far too many relations." And, indeed, the river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love. "She has no conversation," he said, "And I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind." And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys. "I admit that she is domestic," he continued, "But I love traveling, and my wife, consequently, should love traveling also.""Will you come away with me?" he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home."You have been trifling with me," he cried. "I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!" and he flew away.All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city. "Where shall I put up?" he said; "I hope the town has made preparations."Then he saw the statue on the tall column."I will put up there," he cried. "It is a fine position, with plenty of fresh air." So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince."I have a golden bedroom," he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep. But just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. "What a curious thing!" he cried. "There is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness."Then another drop fell."What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he said. "I must look for a good chimney-pot," and he determined to fly away.But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw — Ah! what did he see?The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity."Who are you?" he said."I am the Happy Prince.""Why are you weeping then?" asked the Swallow. "You have quite drenched me.""When I was alive and had a human heart," answered the statue, "I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot chose but weep.""What! Is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow to himself. He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud."Far away," continued the statue in a low musical voice, "Far away in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen's maids-of-honor to wear at the next Court ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.""I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow. "My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves.""Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "Will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.""I don't think I like boys," answered the Swallow. "Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller's sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect."But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry. "It is very cold here," he said; "But I will stay with you for one night and be your messenger.""Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince.So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince's sword and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. "How wonderful the stars are," he said to her, "And how wonderful is the power of love!""I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State ball," she answered. "I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy."He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman's thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings. "How cool I feel," said the boy, "I must be getting better"; and he sank into a delicious slumber.Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done. "It is curious," he remarked, "But I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.""That is because you have done a good action," said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking always made him sleepy.When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. "What a remarkable phenomenon," said the Professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the bridge. "A swallow in winter!" And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand."Tonight I go to Egypt," said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, "What a distinguished stranger!" so he enjoyed himself very much.When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. "Have you any commissions for Egypt?" he cried, "I am just starting.""Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "Will you not stay with me one night longer?""I am waited for in Egypt," answered the Swallow. "Tomorrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the water's edge to drink. They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.""Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "Far away across the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the director of the theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.""I will wait with you one night longer," said

It is not the things you have that make you happy. It is love and kindness and helping each other and just plain being good. — Laura Ingalls Wilder, novelist Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

My dad is so cheap that when he dies, he's going to walk toward the light and turn it off. — Matin Atrushi, comedian Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

"I have a present for you," she said, "It was given to me by a very special friend."He told me: ‘This is a gift for giving, not for keeping!' I held onto it for quite a few years anyway — afraid of losing things, I guess. But now I want you to have it."You can see it best with your eyes closed — use your imagination — put out your hands, keep them close together, palms up. I'll need a place to set it."It's a wishing box. It has four golden legs about half an inch high, shaped like lion paws," and she touched the places on his palms where the legs were. "The box itself is a 5-inch square made of opaque stained glass of a bluish white color and the stained glass pieces are joined together by gold stripping."The box is locked, and the keyhole in front is like the keyholes in your grandmother's house — the kind you can look through and see what's going on in the room beyond. Do you know the kind?" He nodded."Now, the key doesn't come with the box — you have it. We must find it. My friend said to check first behind the ears," and she looked behind his ears."No, not there. Then my friend said sometimes it's hidden at the crown of the head," she ruffled his hair."No, not there. The next place to check he said was between the eyes.""No," and she shook her head."Sometimes it's hidden in the throat." She gently touched his throat."Not there. The last place it could be is here," she reached out and touched his heart."Yes, I think I feel it, but it's very deep. It will take a few seconds more to reach it. Ah, here it is — a tiny golden key.""Now I'll put it in the keyhole and I'll replace one of your hands with mine to hold the box while you turn the key. Here is the key; can you feel it?" He nodded yes. "Now I'll help you turn it — very gently. Good, I'll lift the lid.""There's nothing inside, of course, because it's a wishing box and you have to put a wish in for something to come out."The rule is that it takes three days for the wish to be fulfilled. Three days in wishing box time could be three minutes or three hours or three days or three weeks or longer in our time."The other rule is that you must give the wishing box away — it's a gift for giving. The secret of this is that as soon as you give it away, another one appears in its place. My friend didn't tell me that part."Now it's yours," and she closed his palms with hers."Merry Christmas, my friend."Gail Berry is also the author of Little Fox and the Golden Hawk and Crazy Horse. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

When the Lord made the world, He created the heavens and the ocean and the dear earth.He created the stars and the sun and the moon.Then He called forth the first creature and said, "You are to guard this world. Where you walk, there will be no pain. Go unicorn."And the unicorn did as he was told. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

I had this one certain vision.I was running along side the cars on the freewayrunning even ahead of themgloriously flowing faster than theyfaster than they could possibly gostreaking by them as a photon of lightfaster than light itselfas a blurexceeding even myselfpast the shell.Faster yet, beyond everything,streaking even faster, beyond, beyond.Shaking loose the very fabric of existencebreaking the cordsevering the tietrampling upon its remainsdancing as I ranshaking loose even the final fleeting fragmentsbursting into wild delirium.Beyond delusionbeyond chaosbeyond the static pump-pump of timeinto that which sets the beatmarching only to that drum,slowlywith dignitywith patienceforeverAnd seeming in the other worldto be but a flasha low hum in the winda mere whisperthen gone Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Inside me I've got: world peace, 2 rainbows, light from 4 stars, green stuff, milk, some dog hair, and a raisin. — Gwen Gardner, founder, Simply Chickie clothing Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

"Deep within the forest is the golden tree, the Tree of Life. Let your quest be for that and none other," the old woman advised."Some seek it for its golden leaves and dreams of riches. They do not find it."And some, some look for healing from its roots. Some of those do find it, but they are few."And then, then there are the ones who search only for the joy of the quest and the wonder of what they might find."And these, these are the ones for whom the tree of life bows her golden branches."Be you one of these, master?" cackled the old woman.And I replied without knowing why, "Yes, old woman, I am." Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

I asked God to take away my pain.God said, "No. It is not for me to take away, but for you to give it up."I asked God to make my handicapped child whole.God said, "No. Her spirit was whole, her body was only temporary."I asked God to grant me patience.God said, "No. Patience is a by-product of tribulations. It isn't granted. It is earned."I asked God to give me happiness.God said, "No. I give you blessings. Happiness is up to you."I asked God to spare me pain.God said, "No. Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares and brings you closer to me."I asked God to make my spirit grow.God said, "No. You must grow on your own, but I will prune you to make you fruitful."I asked God for all things that I might enjoy life.God said, "No. I will give you life so that you may enjoy all things."I asked God to help me love others as much as he loves me.God said, "Ah, finally you have the idea." Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Have you heard the song of The Great Knight Stephen? He was the bravest of the brave—no adventure was too dangerous. The White Knight he was called. He was untarnished in principle and ideal—and unbeaten in battle.The sage warned him his greatest challenge would be in love.He loved first the King's daughter—with golden hair, a sweet voice, and a gentle disposition. And she would gladly wed him. But then he loved another—a queen in her own right, a woman of power and beauty. To this woman he gave his heart.But even as he loved, one other came—a peasant girl, simple in dress and lovely as the moonlight.Caught in indecision, he entered the final battle of the tournament.He was struck and cast down; the lance pierced his heart. As he fell, he saw the peasant girl. For an instant he loved her.The princess shrieked and ran to her fallen lover to hold him.The queen swore revenge upon the victorious knight and rushed to her lover.The peasant girl laid her hands upon the wound, and it was healed.He opened his eyes and saw the princess holding his right hand and the queen his left. And still he did not know who to choose.To this day, the White Knight carries three banners into every battle—the blue of the princess, the red of the Queen, and the one he knows not, the one in his heart. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

While speaking to a group, Sarah gave each of the participants a balloon. She asked everyone to write their names on the balloon they held. She then collected the balloons and put them into another room.When she let the people in her group into the other room, she asked them to find the balloon with their name written on it. And to do it within 5 minutes. Everyone set to work frantically looking for the balloon with their own name. They bumped into each other. Some even pushed others. There was much chaos in the room. At the end of 5 minutes, no one had found their own name.Now, Sarah asked each person to collect a balloon at random and give it to the person whose name was written on it. Within minutes everyone had their own balloon.This is exactly what happens in our lives. Everyone is frantically looking for happiness all around, not knowing where to find it. But if you give others their happiness, you will uncover your own happiness. This is the truth of happiness.Source: https://bookmarketingbestsellers.com/the-parable-of-the-balloons Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

In an old cottage covered with morning glory vines by the Warbling River lived three women weavers—Alyssa was young and beautiful, Lydia was of middle age with long dark hair, and Claire was a stately white-haired lady.All day they sat at their looms and wove. Alyssa used reds and greens and yellows as she wove the spring and summer and children's dreams. Lydia used purples and blues as she wove the fall and wisdom. Claire wove with threads of silver and gold of the most delicate hue. On her loom I watched winter come, and I learned of love and joy.They would sing as they wove. And I remember I could see people's lives unfold as the threads intertwined. I think I even saw myself. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Once upon a time, there was a young boy with a very bad temper.To teach the boy a lesson, his father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into their wooden fence.On the first day of this lesson, the little boy had driven 26 nails into the fence. That's how angry he was!Over the next few weeks, the boy began to control his temper. And so he hammered fewer and fewer nails into the fence.It wasn't long before the boy learned it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into that fence.The day finally came when the boy didn't lose his temper even once. He was so proud of himself that he couldn't wait to tell his father.Pleased, his father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he could hold his temper.Several months went by and soon the boy was able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.Then the father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence."You have done very well, my son," he smiled. "But look at all the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same."The little boy listened carefully as his father continued to speak."When you say things in anger, they leave permanent scars just like these holes. And no matter how many times you say you're sorry, the wounds will still be there." Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

I found the strangest waterfall in a narrow channel along a flat plain in the gully near my home. It was too flat for a fall, and yet I heard the unmistakable gurgle of a waterfall. So I crawled down into the belly of the gully to check it out more closely.Even at close range, the water still appeared to run across a plain without a fall. But then I saw what looked like a hole in the middle of the flowing stream. So I picked up a stick to poke around to check how deep it was. Well, in doing so, I upset the hole and the gurgle and everything. Whatever hole might have been there I blocked, then plugged up, then eliminated altogether. Whatever fall might have been there, I leveled. Whatever channel might have been there, I eroded. I ended up with a flat alluvial plain, flowing smoothly, making no soothing gurgle, and loaded with mud, mud, mud.The whole thing was just a result of the uncertainty principle, which simply says that you can't have your cake and eat it too.The moment you touch something, you change it irreversibly, and forever. Any contact of any kind with anything results in change—change both in the thing and in you. You're never the same again. You can't be. And neither can it.But that's the beauty as well as the horror. It's frightening sometimes to think of the power we have to change each other, to change a small part of the world. But that's the beauty as well. That opportunity to create an entire new world through every small change we make—that opportunity is glorious, and one I'd never pass up, not for all the undecaying gold in the world.I destroyed that waterfall today and, in so doing, I lost something. But I gained something, too. I gained contact. I touched, and though I somehow destroyed by that touch, I also created—something perhaps no better, maybe worse, but something that now carries a part of me forever.That's always something more.And that something more is precious. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life. Here is what he told the boy.Inside every one of us, there are two wolves who are always fighting.One wolf is evil. He is anger, lies, greed, arrogance, envy, resentment, and ego.The other wolf is good. He is love, joy, peace, kindness, hope, humility, generosity, truth, and faith.This fight between good and evil is going on inside you—and inside every other person as well.The grandson thought about his grandfather's story for a minute and then asked, Which wolf will win? The good one or the bad one?The old chief quietly replied: The one you feed. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

It's mid morning and I walk my dog Elsie over to John's house so he can take his dog Becky and my dog Elsie and himself for a morning walk which everyone loves.Then I go back home and eat breakfast. Once they return, John says Elsie always waits at the gate watching for me. And truly when I go to get her, she's there at the gate waiting.It always brings me to tears. I think because I have waited at the gate for many people and most have never seen me there.But now I see someone waiting for me. At the gate.Gail Berry is also the author of Little Fox and the Golden Hawk and Crazy Horse. Both books are available via Amazon.com. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Sherlock Holmes and Doc Watson go camping. They pitch their tent under the stars and go to sleep.In the middle of the night Holmes wakes Watson up and asks, "Watson, look up at the stars, and tell me what you deduce."Watson says, "I see millions of stars. Even if only a few of those stars have planets, it's quite likely that there are some planets just like Earth. And, if there are a few planets just like Earth circling those stars, there might also be other life in the universe. What an amazing creation!"Holmes stops him short, "Watson, you idiot, someone has stolen our tent!"Source: The Best Joke Ever, viral online joke Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

This little real-life story has been excerpted from The Enchanted Hour by Meghan Cox Guron. You should read The Enchanted Hour if you want to know more about how reading to others can not only impact their lives but also enrich your life.The Enchanted Hour: The Miraculous Power of Reading Aloud in the Age of Distraction by Meghan Cox Gurdon is an incredible look at why I started this podcast as a result of reading a number of stories and nonfiction books to my wife. I know this podcast has changed my life. I hope it changes and enriches your life as well.Here is the description of the book from promotional copy provided by the publisher:A Wall Street Journal writer's conversation-changing look at how reading aloud makes adults and children smarter, happier, healthier, more successful, and more closely attached, even as technology pulls in the other direction.A miraculous alchemy occurs when one person reads to another, transforming the simple stuff of a book, a voice, and a bit of time into complex and powerful fuel for the heart, brain, and imagination. Grounded in the latest neuroscience and behavioral research, and drawing widely from literature, The Enchanted Hour explains the dazzling cognitive and social-emotional benefits that await children, whatever their class, nationality, or family background. But it's not just about bedtime stories for little kids: Reading aloud consoles, uplifts, and invigorates at every age, deepening the intellectual lives and emotional well-being of teenagers and adults, too.Meghan Cox Gurdon argues that this ancient practice is a fast-working antidote to the fractured attention spans, atomized families and unfulfilling ephemera of the tech era, helping to replenish what our devices are leaching away. For everyone, reading aloud engages the mind in complex narratives; for children, it's an irreplaceable gift that builds vocabulary, fosters imagination, and kindles a lifelong appreciation of language, stories and pictures.Bringing together the latest scientific research, practical tips, and reading recommendations, The Enchanted Hour will both charm and galvanize, inspiring readers to share this invaluable, life-altering tradition with the people they love most. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

"There's a woman who brings the storms.""Sure, Jeremy, and there's a man who takes out the garbage, too.""No, I'm serious about this. I saw her last night. Remember the wind was blowing the trees so hard, and there was lightening and thunder. Then, just before the rain, I saw her."Where? On the chimney?""No! Up in the sky! Her dress was blowing all around her, and she had her arms raised up high like she was telling the storm what to do. Her eyes looked wild.""Was she scary?""No, because she was really pretty.""Then what happened to her?""When the rain started she went away. And a little boy with blonde hair began catching the drops in his hands and singing.""Yeah, what was he singing – here comes the sun?""No, it was a lullaby, and I fell asleep."Gail Berry is also the author of Little Fox and the Golden Hawk and Crazy Horse. Both books are available via Amazon.com.Source: The Rain: https://www.myincrediblewebsite.com/the-rain Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

This song was written in 1957 by Ewan MacColl. The best performance of the song, in my mind, was by Roberta Flack (when it was featured in Clint Eastwood's movie, Play Misty for Me.The first time ever I saw your face,I thought the sun rose in your eyesAnd the moon and the starsWere the gifts you gaveTo the dark and the endless sky, my love.The first time ever I kissed your mouth,I felt the earth move in my handLike the trembling heartOf a captive birdThat was there at my command, my love.And the first time ever I lay with you,I felt your heart so close to mineAnd I knew our joyWould fill the earthAnd last till the end of time, my love.Here is one of many performances by Roberta Flack singing The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

"Only words have I to give," said the poet. "Of these I give freely and that is all that God can ask. He cares not how beautiful the voice of the singer, but only that the singer gives his song."Do you know the story of the child who came before the Christ with no gift in her hands?When the others would turn her away with ridicule, He spoke to them all, saying, "This child gives Me her love and that is the greatest gift of all. Let all of you come as empty handed as she, and then we shall have heaven upon Earth."Gail Berry is also the author of Little Fox and the Golden Hawk and Crazy Horse. Both books are available via Amazon.com.Source: Giving: https://www.myincrediblewebsite.com/giving Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Here is some writing advice from Thom Merrilin, a storytelling character from A Memory of Light, book 14 of The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson.If you use the words people expect, they grow bored. A great ballad needs to be unexpected.Never be expected.When people start to expect you—when they start to anticipate your flourishes, to look for the ball you had hidden through sleight of hand, or to smile before you reached the twist line of your tale—it is time to pack up your cloak, bow once for good measure, and stroll away.After all, that was what they'd least expect you to do when all was going well.Source: Writing Advice from The Wheel of Time Series: https://bookmarketingbestsellers.com/writing-advice-from-the-wheel-of-time-series Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

There once was a farmer who grew the most excellent wheat. Every season he won the award for the best wheat in his county.A woman from a nearby town came to ask him about his success.He told her that the key was sharing his best seed with his neighbors so they could plant the seed as well.The woman asked, "How can you share your best wheat seed with your neighbors when they compete with you every year?""That's simple," the farmer replied. "The wind spreads the pollen from everyone's wheat and carries it from field to field. If my neighbors grew inferior wheat, cross-pollination would degrade everyone's wheat, including mine. If I'm to grow the best wheat, I must help my neighbors grow the best wheat as well."This is not only excellent advice for growing the best crops, but also great advice for how to live your life.If you want to live a meaningful and happy life, help others find happiness.Remember: The value of your life is measured by the lives you touch with love, kindness, respect, and hope.Source: The Best Seed: A Short Story about Sharing: https://www.myincrediblewebsite.com/the-best-seed-a-short-story-about-sharing Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Here's another short short story by my wife Gail Berry. I hope you like this one as well.I was visiting a friend in the hospital the summer of '85. While I was passing down a corridor, I noticed a child of about six sitting next to an old man who was lying in a hospital bed. The little girl was holding his hand — he looked too weak to grasp hers.Usually I don't eavesdrop on others' conversations, but in this case I couldn't help myself.The two were talking quietly and so intently that my presence was unnoticed.The old man asked the child, "Do you see anyone yet, Angie?""Not yet grandfather," she replied."They should be here soon," he whispered.The child's gaze was drawn to the windows in the room. She said, her blue eyes wide, "Someone is coming. I can almost make them out, grandfather.""Tell me," he said, "Is it a man and a woman?"Her voice had been low before but, now, was barely a whisper."Yes, they're standing right next to us on the other side of the bed.""Yes," the old man said, "I can feel it now. My eyes are tired and weak, so tell me, child, what does he look like?""His face is smooth, and he is looking so kindly at you. He doesn't look at me."The old man said, "What about the lady?""Oh, she is so beautiful. She is smiling at me.""The lady is lady time. I always knew she was a woman, not a man. And she smiles at you, for you are just beginning. The man, Angie, we call him death. He does not look so fierce, does he?""Oh, no, grandfather, he would never hurt anyone. They are going now."The child was staring at something by the window that I could not see. "Grandfather, Grandfather," she called out as they departed."Goodbye, Grandfather."And a whisper filled the room."Goodbye, Angie."Gail Berry is also the author of Little Fox and the Golden Hawk and Crazy Horse. Both books are available via Amazon.com.Source: Angie: https://www.myincrediblewebsite.com/angie Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

I was out walking with my 5-year-old daughter. She picked up something from the ground and started to put it into her mouth.I took the thing away from her and asked her not to do that."Why?" she asked."Because it's been on the ground, and you don't know where it's been. It's dirty. And it probably has germs."At this point, my daughter looked at me with absolute admiration and asked, "Mom, how do you know all this stuff? You are so smart."I thought quickly and replied, "All moms know this stuff. It's on the Mom Test. You have to know it, or they don't let you be a Mom."We walked along in silence for two or three minutes, but she was evidently thinking about this new information."Oh, I get it!" she beamed, "So if you don't pass the test, you have to be the Dad.""Exactly," I said.Source: The Mom Test: Fail, And You're the Dad: https://www.myincrediblewebsite.com/mom-test-fail-youre-dad Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

Here is a short short story by my wife Gail Berry. I love this story. I hope you will as well.One night the turtle said to his friend the frog: "Would you like to fly with me through the stars tonight to meet the moon?"The frog, who thought the turtle a silly kidder, replied, "Turtle, I don't believe anyone can fly, much less a fellow who carries a shell such as yours.""Well, come with me tonight and see for yourself," replied the turtle.The frog, thinking to catch his friend in a tall tale, said that he would go.That night, the frog crawled up on the turtle's back and, sure enough, they flew up through the stars to meet the moon.And do you know the most wondrous part of the whole adventure? Friend frog never again questioned another friend's truth.Gail Berry is also the author of Little Fox and the Golden Hawk and Crazy Horse. Both books are available via Amazon.com.Source: Believe: The Short Story: https://www.myincrediblewebsite.com/believe-the-short-story Get full access to Tell Me a Story Podcast at tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe