Short stories to read before bed for adults
10 Bedtime Stories for Adults to Help You Get Some Serious Shut Eye
I’ve never been blessed with the ability to fall asleep fast. I have to toss and turn and click around on my phone for an hour at least before I can even attempt to get some shut eye. It drives me up the wall sometimes when I have an early morning or a big meeting the next day and all I can do is lie there.
Bedtime stories as a kid always helped me shorten that empty time between when I got in bed and when I actually fell asleep. But, as I’ve moved into adulthood, the fairytales and fables have been replaced with social media and mindless scrolling. I know, I know, this so does not help my inability to sleep. It’s hard to turn it off sometimes and sit in silence instead.
Which got me wondering, are there bedtime stories for adults that could take the place of those from my childhood? There are apps, I know, that play white noise or block notification or limit your screen time. But I wanted that feeling of being a kid and reading a nice, gentle story before bed.
If you’re in the same boat I am, seeking that same feeling but a little more grown up, try one of these bedtime short stories for adults to see if you can get some sleep.
“Whitefoot” by Wendell Berry
“Whitefoot” focuses on the life of a mouse much in a similar vein of the many fables your parents read you as a kid. Whitefoot the mouse encounters some tribulations, obstacles from the large world around her, but (spoiler alert) she gets out unscathed, ready to keep at it. It’s long, gentle, and beautiful. You’ll have images of little Whitefoot’s journey with you as you fall asleep.
“Hills Like White Elephants” by Ernest Hemingway
I’m sure many of you have read “Hills Like White Elephants” at some point in your school career. Masked in metaphor and implications, the surface level of the story is simply a conversation between a couple while waiting for their train. Sure, there’s subtext if you want to dig into it. But, if you turn off your thinking brain and read the straightforward prose, you’ll be drifting off in no time.
“Ghosts and Empties” by Lauren Groff
Some of you may share a fondness for walking when you can’t sleep, much like the main character in “Ghosts and Empties.” She walks off her anger, her pent up feelings, through her neighborhood and the ones surrounding it. She ponders her neighbors, the people she sees, thinks about her home and her boys and her husband. If walking soothes you, this story will too.
“With the Beatles” by Haruki Murakami
“With the Beatles” traces a man’s discovery of The Beatles in his young adulthood through his life alongside his dating history. It has the feeling of remembering the first time you found your favorite band and how that love develops through your life, major events coinciding with new releases. You know that feeling when you play a song and remember where you were in life when you were obsessed with it? This story feels like that: nostalgic and comforting.
“The Book of Martha” by Octavia Butler
“The Book of Martha” is, at it’s core, about how to make a perfect world.
Or, I guess, how difficult that is. God grants Martha the power to help humanity. But that proves much harder than she thought. In a careful exploration of belief, perfection, and humanity, “The Book of Martha” is sure to catch your attention without keeping you up too late. Plus, it’ll give you something to think through when you close your eyes, pushing those pesky daily worries out the window.
“Cousin Tribulation’s Story” by Louisa May Alcott
This short story set on New Year’s Day follows a family who sacrifice their meal to help their neighbors in need. It’s heartwarming and sure to restore your faith in humanity before you go to sleep. Plus, it’s only 800 words! You won’t be up late into the night to find out what happens, and you’re sure to have a smile on your face when you do.
“Bruce and the Spider” by James Baldwin
This quick, fable-like story follows a king as he watches a spider. The spider keeps failing to connect her web, and the king, also having failed in battle, sympathizes with her.
But she keeps trying, and so he decides to take her cues and try again himself. It’s sure to inspire you in its simplicity and put you to sleep with it too.
“Instructions” by Neil Gaiman
This is more of a poem, and intended for a younger audience perhaps, but the rhythm is sure to lull you no matter your age. As the title implies, “Instructions” is a list of, well, instructions on how to leave home, how to interact with the world, and how to come back again. You’ll meet an imp, an old woman, a ferryman, an eagle, and ghosts in time. You’ll pick strawberries and return favors and grow up in your time away. This is one of those bedtime stories for adults and children alike.
“Kew Gardens” by Virginia Woolf
This short stories centers around the Kew Gardens in London on a summer day. Various pairs of people walk past the flowers, each lost in their own thoughts. A young couple, a pair of men, and an elderly couple meander through the narrative. A snail makes an appearance as it climbs a flower.
The story is gentle and slow, making it perfect to help you drift off tonight.
“A Telephone Call” by Dorothy Parker
“A Telephone Call” is a sweet, light-hearted story of a woman waiting by the phone. That’s it. Much the same way we wait for that text or Snapchat now, the main character sits beside the telephone waiting for a man to call. The internal monologue and lack of much else won’t raise the blood pressure or keep you too engaged. You’ll sleep, maybe thinking of your own telephone call.
I hope these bedtime stories for adults helped you get some shut eye. If you’re still looking for something low-key or soothing, try these comforting books for hard times or these comforting comics, if those are more your speed. You can also be read to sleep with these soothing audiobooks to fall asleep to.
Home of the Brave – A Bedtime Short Story by Thom Brodkin – Reedsy Prompts
A mom’s job is never truly finished—Elise knew this instinctively when her son was born.
For at least the hundredth time, she sat next to his bed in that chair mending his quilt. There was no way of knowing, the day she bought it at a flea market, that it would become her son’s most valued possession.
To call it a quilt stretched the definition as it was nothing more than a thousand pieces of oddly shaped swatches stitched together, layer after layer, until the whole of it was thick enough to hold in the warmth of a small boy's body as he drifted off to sleep. The person who pieced together this labor of love must have spent countless hours shaping the useless remnants into a usable blanket. Elise felt it was her duty to repair the inevitable rips as an homage to the unknown creator and as a manifestation of her adoration for the little boy who cherished it.
“I love how cool it feels when I first get into bed,” her little man observed the first night he wrapped himself in the old quilt. “But before long, it warms up, and I’m snug as a bug in a rug. Where did you get it?”
The question was one whose answer was too mundane to inflict on a wide eyed little boy, so Elise stretched the truth just a little.
“It was brought over on the Mayflower by the Pilgrims,” she answered to her son's delight. “It’s made from pieces of fabric from all over Europe and is the first blanket used by the first Americans.”
It was just a little white lie, but it was also the beginning of a cherished tradition. As stitches unraveled and as tears ripped the quilt and the little boy's heart, Elise sat by his bed and mended the heirloom. Then she would continue the "true" story of how the quilt had found its way to her son.
“During the Revolutionary War, your quilt was captured by General Cornwallis and used to keep his legs warm on the cold winter nights.” Elise said, weaving a story as intricate as the blanket itself. “It wasn’t until the surrender at Yorktown that it was returned.”
“Yorktown?”
“Yes, Yorktown,'' she said smiling, “George Washington took it from Cornwallis and used it during his eight years as president.”
“You mean my blanket has been to the White House?”
“Of course it has,” Elise answered with a wink.
“But not because of George Washington, silly. John Adams was the first president to live in the White House.”
“Who then, Mom? ``The little boy asked., “Who took my blanket to the White House?”
“That’s a story for later,” Elise replied, kissing her son on his forehead. “Now you get some sleep, and I’ll continue the story next time.”
Elise, unfortunately, had far too many opportunities to continue the blanket’s tale as her son was given to debilitating headaches. At first, the doctors thought he was prone to systemic migraines, but the truth was much worse. Many nights, too many, the little boy would curl up in pain, his teeth clenched in a faux smile. The headaches were excruciating, only soothed by a cold wash cloth, his mother’s gentle voice, and the telling of the quilt’s tale as he drifted off to sleep.
There were also many a night where Elise would sit with her son as he slept, meticulously piecing back together the tears that threatened the blanket entirely, wishing there was a way she could also mend her son.
The room would be completely quiet save for the sound of Elise’s song. It was something she had done since she was his age. Inadvertently yet intentionally she would let the air slip through her lips, creating a tune just for him that would live for that moment, replaced the next time by one equally beautiful and equally unique.
“As it turns out, the first time the quilt made it to the White House was just after Abraham Lincoln was elected president,” Elise said the next night, continuing the story from where they’d left off. The pain had become more frequent and more intense, requiring more chapters more often. The story's continuation, however, had the desired results, a distraction and a smile.
“Abraham Lincoln, he used my quilt, too?” her son asked, too young to doubt his mother.
“Of course he did,” Elise responded, tickling her son just to hear him laugh. “It’s a little known fact, but Mount Rushmore was actually created to show all of the presidents who used your blanket.
”
Elise always had a basin of cold water by her side whenever she sat with her son. Very early on she learned that the coolness of the cloth would help quiet the pain in his head. It was her greatest joy to moisten the cloth keeping it cold throughout her story. The little boy’s head still throbbed, but while his mom was telling the story she would gently wipe his forehead with the cold cloth, and it was almost as if he forgot the pain for a time. If all went well, he would fall asleep listening to the tale of his blanket, as sleep was becoming his only relief from the pain.
“Did you know your blanket went to the moon?” Elise asked one day when her son seemed particularly down. “Neil Armstrong may have been the first man to set foot on the moon, but he laid out your quilt so he and Buzz Aldrin could have a picnic.”
The idea of two astronauts having a picnic on the moon resulted in spontaneous laughter for both mother and son.
“Is Buzz Lightyear named after Buzz Aldrin?” he asked his mom, as both continued to laugh.
“As a matter of fact he was,” Elise replied with a smile. “If you must know, Buzz Aldrin presented your quilt to Buzz Lightyear as a gift which means your blanket has been…”
“To infinity and beyond!”
“Exactly,” Elise confirmed as she refreshed his cloth and placed it back on his head.
Day after day she would take her boy to doctors and then specialists and eventually to the hospital. Then, night after night, she would sit by his bed and tell the story of the quilt. Elise did everything she could to stretch out the story, and as each new adventure was passed from mother to son so too was hope, in the only way she knew how.
The night that she finished the story was, in so many ways, just like most of the other nights. Elise was home in her favorite chair next to her son’s bed. Her breathing was labored and her voice unsteady. “And then I stopped by a flea market on my way home from the store and there it was, your beautiful, wonderful blanket. I knew you must have it, so I scooped it up, paid the nice woman, and brought it home to you.
”
Tears filled Elise’s eyes as she sewed the last stitch on the old quilt. Holding it up, she remembered the first time her son covered himself with the blanket. I love how cool it feels when I first get into bed.
“It’s finally fixed. It’s perfect.” Elise said out loud, tears continuing to flow. “I love how cool it feels, too.”
Summoning every bit of her strength, she lay the beloved blanket on the empty bed in front of her.
Being a mom is a job that is never truly finished, at least she had hoped so. With nothing else left to do for her son, she sat back in the chair and silently sobbed.
cozy stories for the night • Articles on the website of the publishing house BOMBOR
- Articles
- January 13, 2021
Sleepy tales for adults: three stories to help you fall asleep.
More interesting things below
This story began when Katherine Nicolai, a 17-year yoga teacher from Michigan, noticed that daily bedtime stories helped her cope with her insomnia.
Katherine created the Nothing Much Happens podcast with bedtime stories for herself and her friends. And hit the "bull's eye": the podcast became incredibly successful. Listeners from all over the world wrote thanks for the fact that for the first time in many years they slept through the night, without sleeping pills and nightmares.
Katherine's years of experience in yoga and meditation helps her seamlessly blend storytelling with brain training techniques. She knows how to relax the body, how to help the brain build new sleep habits, and how to make being awake as pleasant and serene as sleeping.
We have selected for you 3 cozy stories from Katherine Nikolay's book "Nothing Special Happens" that will help you sleep soundly and, most importantly, get enough sleep.
The instructions are simple: get as comfortable as possible in bed. You will go to the usual friendly place with a cute coffee shop and a small library where the seasons change, and at the local market you can slowly choose spicy herbs and fragrant pears for a birthday cake.
Inhale deeply through your nose and exhale through your mouth. And repeat. Inhale and exhale. Okay, let's start
The first story. Blizzard
The day before we were warned that it would snow all night and all the next day. They said they'd sweep up driveways and lanes, fields and intersections, and that it's best to stay safe at home. We agreed. The whole area and the whole town. Everyone supported this decision. Today we got hit by a snow storm.
I lay in bed in the dead silence of the early morning, thinking of the snow that had covered the ground like a thick blanket, lying on bare tree branches, on the roof above my head, and on everything else you could imagine.
I didn't move after waking up, I just felt my hands relaxed and warm under the covers, and I thought about how good it was to be a snowy day, and how wonderful it was to know that from last night. I slept soundly and woke up not remembering dreams, feeling that today everything would start from scratch.
She slipped her feet into the slippers by the bed, pulled on a long thick sweater, and went to the window. She slowly pushed back the curtain and enjoyed a small spark of anticipation in her stomach as she looked at the snow-covered ground.
There used to be a lot of snow too. I have seen this a thousand times, reliving the same moment since childhood, how in the morning after a heavy snowfall I stand in my pajamas, pressing my nose against the cold window pane, but to this day it causes me admiration.
The morning light was faint and cast long shadows on the drifts, catching still-falling flakes in its smooth flight, and showing the crisp, untouched surface of the snow that covered the ground outside my old farmhouse. I lingered there for a moment, just watching the falling snow, shielding myself from the cold outside with my hands. Enjoyed a gift from mother nature.
As a child, snowy days were associated with excitement and running around with cups of chocolate to the warm kitchen and back.
For adults, such days bring relief. You are forced to relax, no one expects anything from you.
In a hectic world that sometimes moves too fast, this respite is great medicine. I stocked up on everything I needed the night before: a pound of fresh coffee beans, a long loaf of bread for sandwiches and toast, a bag of muffins and muffins, a bag of winter oranges and grapefruit.
In the fridge was a jug of fresh juice and a huge pile of green vegetables, and in the pantry were neat rows of homemade canned tomatoes and pickles, jars of beans, bags of rice, bags of crackers and pasta. I looked out the kitchen window and told the snow, "Keep falling, I've got enough for a few weeks."
I started making coffee, rummaged through the cupcakes, broke off the corner of one and ate it. “If you are going to do this,” I thought, “then you have to do everything right,” and pulled out a waffle iron from the sideboard. After all, that was part of enjoying the snowy day.
There is finally time to do things that you normally don't, and there's no reason to avoid them.
I poured a cup of coffee, took the right ingredients from the shelves and began to mix and beat them, heating the waffle iron. She settled down at the kitchen table with her favorite plate, napkin and fork. I had a flashback of what my aunt did when we were little. She had a special plate in her closet, painted gold in an old fashioned way and didn't match anything else. And, if you did well in an exam, or you had a birthday, or a bad day and you just needed to feel special and cared for, your aunt put her in your place.
When you sat down, you stood a little taller and felt her warm hand on your shoulder. And dinner turned into a delight.
This memory kept me warm as I poured batter into a hot waffle iron. It hissed, filling the kitchen with aroma, and I smiled. With pancakes and waffles, the rule of three always applies. Don't overcook the first, burn the second, and the third will be perfect.
When the plate was full, I sat with a cup of fresh coffee and a warm jug of maple syrup, enjoying my breakfast, watching the snow fall.
I peeled the orange and ate the slices slowly between sips, setting the rind aside, thinking I'd add it later to a simmering pot with cinnamon sticks, vanilla and a couple of cloves. Let it simmer all day to fill the house with a sweet aroma and soften the dry air with steam. I rinsed my plate, tidied up the kitchen and began to walk from window to window, looking out into the street.
In the evening I brought firewood and put it in the fireplace: now it was ready to give warmth. She lit a long match and held it up to the paper and kindling, watching it burn. She added a few crumpled newspapers to the fire and squatted by the fire for a couple of minutes until her face and fingers warmed up.
Now the wind was blowing and I watched small swirling spirals of snow appear and disappear in the air. Maybe later I'll pack up and go for a long walk through the fields and woods, and then reward myself with a cup of something hot; but now I was not going to leave my cozy place.
I imagined laying out a puzzle on the table and thinking about it while a movie was playing in the background, or reading for hours, or lying in a hot bath until the skin on my fingers wrinkled.
But first, having had my fill after breakfast and warming up by the fireplace, I stretched out on the sofa, covered my legs with a warm blanket, and felt that it would be best to close my eyes, listen to the crackling of logs, and forget myself in a long winter sleep.
Sweet dreams.
Second story. Night outside with a dog
I heard the soft rustle of dog paws when my pet stopped by the bed. My ears were already programmed for it. I heard him sigh at night or toss and turn in bed. And when he got up and quietly stood next to me, I heard it too. He is already an old dog with a gray muzzle, and his movements are slow and careful.
Our walks got a little shorter, but today he saw a squirrel running along the pavement and suddenly found some youthful canine energy in his limbs.
He pulled me along, following the path. Fortunately, the squirrel was not caught, but he enjoyed the chase. He barked as she ran up the tree and teased him with the language of little animals who know how fast they are. I stroked his head and told him that he tried his best. Shouldn't we go to the park? I reached out to put my hand on it and lowered my feet to the floor, sleepy but understanding.
As he got older, he sometimes had to leave the house in the middle of the night. I didn't mind at all, wrapped myself in a dressing gown, slipped my feet into my slippers, and we went down the stairs to the backyard. Most of the time, I just let it out and came back a few minutes later, but as I opened the door this time, I felt something in the smell of the air pull me outside. It was pitch dark, deep night, about three o'clock. There came those weeks when the weather tossed between autumn and winter.
The cold air opened my eyes and I lifted them up to see a clear sky lit by stars and a moon that was barely more than half visible.
Growing moon, I thought. After the dog returned to me, we stood very still and just listened. Summer nights are filled with the buzzing of beetles, the croaking of frogs, and some unreasonable buzzing that comes from nowhere and is simply present in the air. Maybe it's the fecundity of growing, swaying plants, or just the trace of life left after a day in the sun, but it certainly sounds loud.
There is a special sound that can only be heard in the middle of the night just before winter, a shocking silence. Not a single car passed by, no one was visible except us, and only the faint rustle of a very light wind stirred in the bare branches high above us. The earth was asleep, its creatures curled up in their burrows, preparing for the new season. The bulbs were deep under mulch and dirt, only dreaming now of the vibrant pinks, purples and yellows they would turn into in spring. We stood still for a while, and I let the cold air tingle my fingers and move up my neck, knowing that I would soon be back in a warm bed.
I took a few very deep breaths, and under the spicy scent of dry leaves, something clean and clear appeared in the air. I thought it might be snow. Tomorrow these clear skies may be thick with clouds. And if we get up again in the middle of the night, which we most likely will, we will be standing under the first falling flakes.
I leaned over and slowly kissed my old man on the top of his head, and then we turned and walked back into the house. He stopped to drink water. I drank too and slowly walked up the stairs back to the bedroom. He turned a few times and sat down on the large soft cushion. I covered the dog with a blanket and tucked it in from all sides. In a few seconds he will be asleep. We should all learn this from dogs: they can go from awake to deep sleep instantly and wake up just as easily.
I took off my bathrobe and slippers and pulled back the heavy blanket on the bed, slipped onto the sheets and straightened the covers. I felt the cold gradually leave my body until the tips of my toes were warm again.
I thought about the change of season, the gentle breeze outside, and how grateful I was that the dog had taken me along. It's the magic that our friends give us: they take us to places we wouldn't go on our own and show us things we would otherwise miss.
I sighed slowly, rolled over on my side, pulling the blanket over my shoulders, and felt myself sinking into sleep, drawing part of today into my daydreams, falling asleep. The squirrel swept its tail high up in the tree. The leash was taut because the dog suddenly wanted to run. Growing Moon and sleeping Earth. Probability of first snow.
Yes, I'll probably wake up again tomorrow night, and the day after tomorrow, and so on, but it made me happy.
Sweet dreams.
The third story. Winter day outside the window
From the window I watched what was probably the last big snowfall of this winter.
Snow lay in even layers on the lawns and rooftops of our block.
I knew we all wanted spring now, but we could be coaxed into spending another day admiring the quiet charm of falling flakes, squeezing snowballs with gloves and making snowmen, sledding down the hillside in the park.
I didn't know if I wanted to go sledding, but I was ready to watch it from the cozy warmth of the living room, warming my feet with thick socks to the whistle of the kettle boiling in the kitchen. Watch how a small flock of neighboring children, wrapped from head to toe, dragged sleds and ice-boats on thin ropes. Even in boots and insulated thick trousers, they somehow skipped forward and called their friends and younger sisters to speed up their pace. The sledding hill was waiting for them.
As a child, there was one in the neighborhood, and I remembered with what delight we rushed from it, crammed into the sleigh two or three of us, holding on to their worn-out reins and each other, and shouted, picking up speed. We rolled over or crashed into a pile of snow, jumped up, shook snowflakes from our faces and raced back up.
Sometimes it was cold or someone's parents drove us back into the house to keep warm. We took off our wet coats and hats, put them on the radiator so that they would dry faster, and sometimes, without waiting, put them on again and raced up the hill.
I went into the kitchen, poured boiling water from the kettle into a cup, and tossed the tea bag in, shaking it slowly as I watched the reddish-brown color of the rooibos flow like ink into the water. She went to the sideboard and took out a pack of cookies, bought the day before.
Pushing a cart down the aisles of the grocery store, I was lost in the day's worries when I saw a familiar orange pack of cookies I hadn't eaten since I was a kid. It looked like windmills, light brown, with almond flecks scattered across the dough.
In the blink of an eye, I forgot about the confusion of thoughts that did not let me go, and reached for the pack on the shelf. The inscription was exactly the same as it had been when I was a child, thick and slightly smeared, as if it had been printed on an old-fashioned press.
The company logo was a greased windmill and a family name, and when I turned the pack over, I saw that the cookies were still being made in a small town up north.
Suddenly, I felt immense gratitude that this delicacy had ended up here, on the shelf of a nearby store. She smoothed out the wrapper and peered through the cellophane at the cookies. It wasn't perfectly shaped, each a little irregular, some darker, thicker, or paler. They immediately migrated to my cart, and since then I have been looking forward to the moment to open them for tea.
I ate these cookies at my grandparents' house. Looking back, I couldn't remember trying them anywhere else. She took out a plate, placed a stack of windmills on it, and carried them back to the chair by the window. Sitting comfortably and tucking her legs under her, she put the blanket on her knees and took one of the cookies. I brought it to my nose and inhaled the sweet aroma.
There was some spice in it - I smelled the smell of cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon and a faint cherry-sweet aroma of almonds.
I took a bite, the cookies were a little crumbly and dry, but the taste immediately brought me back to my grandparents' kitchen. Their house was small, with a tiny front porch, and nestled in a cozy spot among tall, old trees. Their shadows lurked in every corner, and the rooms were filled with paintings and toys that had once belonged to my father. But in the daytime the house was bright and full of sun.
Grandmother hid the “windmills” in the back of the cupboard, covering the cookies with a jar of flour so that grandfather would not accidentally stumble upon them. She and I would put a pack of biscuits on the table and each one would dip them into their drink, Grandmother into coffee and I into cocoa, and slowly ate it while watching the squirrels running along the fence.
Maybe I inherited a penchant for quiet contemplation from her. Looking out over the snow-covered yard, I raised my cup to share my memories of our time in the kitchen with her, then washed down the cookies with a slow sip of tea.
A few more guys ran to their friends on the hill, and mittens dangled from strings on their wrists. I saw how the snow lay flat on the bare branches of a plane tree in a neighbor's yard and the slanting peach-orange rays of the setting sun spilled across the sky. Yes, I will be happy for spring when it comes, but I was happy to stay at home and watch the snow fall.
Sweet dreams.
More cozy stories, meditations to relieve stress throughout the day, recipes and crafts in Katherine Nicolai's book Nothing Special Happens. Cozy stories for restful sleep. Reclaim your restful sleep and all the joys that come with it.
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Nothing special is happening. Cozy stories for restful sleepCatherine Nikolay
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Children's stories for the night. Short bedtime stories that will help you fall asleep faster
One of my readers' favorite fairy tales is . She was born spontaneously, on the go, when I put my daughter to bed. I did not expect at all that this tale would be so loved by readers, and even fall into. It turned out that both children and their parents are very fond of such fairy tales at night. Therefore, I share with you two more evening tales.
The Tale of the Rhino Who Couldn't Sleep
There was once a Rhino, he was gray and thick-skinned, with a large horn on his nose.
Cute, such, Rhinoceros. Once the Rhinoceros began to prepare for bed. He drank a glass of milk and cookies, washed his face, brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas and went to bed.
Everything is as usual. Only that evening the Rhino could not sleep at all. He tossed and turned in bed, but sleep did not come. First, he decided to think of something pleasant. He always did that when he couldn't sleep. The rhinoceros remembered the colored butterflies fluttering in the sky, then he thought about the juicy fresh grass. Delicious ... But the dream did not come.
And that's when a wonderful idea came to the Rhino! He thought he couldn't sleep because he forgot to do something before going to bed. Probably something very important. What exactly? He thought carefully and remembered! It turned out that Rhino forgot to put away his toys. That's what was the matter! He even felt ashamed.
Rhino got out of bed and cleaned up all the toys that were scattered on the floor. Then he lay back on the bed, closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep.
Good night Rhino!
Meditative sea tale
Imagine that you are sitting on the back of a blue dolphin. It has nice slippery sides. You firmly hold on to him with your hands, and he carries you forward along the playful waves. Funny sea turtles swim next to you, a baby octopus waves its tentacle in greeting, and seahorses swim with you in a race. The sea is kind and gentle, the breeze is warm and playful. Already ahead is the very rock to which you are swimming, your girlfriend, the little mermaid, is sitting on its edge. She is impatiently waiting for you. She has a green scaly tail and her eyes are the color of the sea. She laughs happily when she sees you and dives into the water. Loud splash, splash. And now you are already rushing forward together to the magical island. Friends are waiting for you there: a cheerful monkey, a clumsy hippo and a noisy motley parrot. Finally, you are already with them. Everyone sits down on the shore, a dolphin in the water, a little mermaid on the rocks.
Everyone is waiting with bated breath. And then she begins to tell you extraordinary fairy tales. Tales about seas and oceans, about pirates, about treasures, about beautiful princesses. Fairy tales are so wonderful that you do not notice how the sun sets and night descends on the earth. It's time to sleep. The little mermaid says goodbye to everyone, the dolphin takes you on his back to take you home to a warm bed, and the little animals say goodbye to you, already yawning a little. Night, night has come. It's time to sleep, it's time to close your eyes to see in your dreams the beautiful tales told by the little mermaid.
What does a baby need to sleep well and soundly? Of course bedtime story ! Short good tales will calm the baby and give wonderful dreams.
A family of hares lived in the same forest. Here, somehow, hares were born to them. They were small and fluffy, like balls. Mom hare and dad hare could not see enough of their kids. They called the guests to the bride.
The animals that lived in the neighborhood came with gifts and congratulated the happy parents. The bear brought a barrel of honey, the squirrel brought a whole basket of nuts, the hedgehog brought the ripest apples. Everyone wanted to please with their gift. But suddenly, a couple appeared that no one expected. They were the wolf and the fox. Nobody liked them and everyone tried to get around them by the tenth road, because they were hooligans, littered in the forest, offended the little ones. The wolf and the fox came empty-handed and approached the rabbits.
What wonderful babies, said the fox.
Go away, - the hare answered, - I didn't call you.
You don't have to call us. We come where we want, when we want. Ha-ha-ha, - they laughed and, waving their tails, went away.
Something needs to be done with them, - the hare turned plaintively to the animals - neighbors, - this couple is dangerous for my kids.
And let's drive them out of the forest, - suggested the hedgehog.
Yes, - the bear supported, - we will collect signatures from all the residents, and they will have to leave.
So they did. The squirrel jumped the inhabitants of the forest and collected signatures to evict the wolf and the fox from the forest. Then she brought this list to the hare, and he bravely went to the hooligans. But the closer he got, the more frightened he was. Papa hare saw a fox with a wolf in a clearing. They played cards on the stump.
Here, - said the bunny and held out a document in a trembling paw, - get out of our forest!
The wolf and the fox came closer, read the paper, and then laughed out loud.
Do you think we were scared, - the wolf laughed, then he grabbed the leaf from the hare's paws and ate it, - there was a document, and there is no document. The commander is here!
Bunny could hardly hold back his tears, but it was impossible to cry, because he is the father of the family. It was necessary to act. He came home, packed his things, said goodbye to the hare and went to the lion for help.
The lion was supposed to help drive the insolent out of the peaceful forest. After all, the lion is the king of animals, everyone obeys him. The bunny walked for a long time and finally came. The lion lay in the sun, rested, and his cubs climbed on it, playing.
Good afternoon, - said the hare's father, - I came to you from afar for help, because you are also a father and should understand me.
The hare told the lion about his misfortune.
But I can't drive them away all the time. When I go home, they will return, said the lion.
The bunny is saddened. But the lion reassured him.
I think I know what needs to be done, and the lion whispered his plan into the hare's ear.
They returned to the hare's native forest and went to look for the wolf and the fox. They were just throwing cones into the jay's nest. The lion hid behind the bushes, and the hare stepped forward.
Stop immediately, the hare shouted, I order you!
And who are you to tell us?
Now I am in charge of this forest.
I was at the king of animals - a lion, and he appointed me here in charge.
Well, yes, that's what we believed. What can you prove?
The hare took a deep breath of air, and at that time, behind him, in the bushes, the lion roared with all his royal strength. The trees staggered from such a roar. The hare closed his mouth.
Well, do you believe it now? - asked the bunny. The wolf and the fox tucked their tails and ears.
Y-y-yes. Believed.
So, - commanded the hare, - so that your spirit is not in this forest, and do not try to offend animals anymore, otherwise you will deal with me!
The hooligans turned around and ran away, only their tails flashed between the trees. Bunny thanked the lion, said goodbye to him and went to his home. There he was met by a hare and kids.
Now I'm calm for you, - said the father hare and stroked the kids on their fluffy heads.
Since then no one has been hooligans in the forest, and the wolf and the fox have gone cold.
Let short good bedtime stories will become a good tradition and bring you closer to your baby.
Fairy tales that teach good…
These good bedtime stories with a happy and instructive ending will please your child before going to bed, calm them down, teach kindness and friendship.
2. The tale of how Fedya saved the forest from the evil sorcerer
The boy Fedya Egorov came to the village to rest in the summer with his grandparents. This village was right next to the forest. Fedya decided to go to the forest for berries and mushrooms, but his grandparents did not let him in. They said that the real Baba Yaga lives in their forest, and for more than two hundred years no one has been going to this forest.
Fedya did not believe that Baba Yaga lived in the forest, but he obeyed his grandparents and did not go into the forest, but went to the river to fish. The cat Vaska followed Fedya. The fish were biting well. Three ruffs were already swimming in Fedya's jar when the cat knocked it over and ate the fish.
Fedya saw this, got upset and decided to postpone fishing until tomorrow. Fedya returned home. Grandma and Grandpa were not at home. Fedya removed the fishing rod, put on a shirt with long sleeves and, taking a basket, went to the neighboring guys to call them into the forest.
Fedya thought that grandparents made up a story about Baba Yaga, that they just don't want him to go into the forest, because it's always very easy to get lost in the forest. But Fedya was not afraid to get lost in the forest, because he wanted to go into the forest with friends who have been living here for a long time, which means they know the forest well.
To Fedya's great surprise, all the guys refused to go with him, and they began to dissuade him. …
3. Obeshchaikin
Once upon a time there was a boy, Fedya Egorov. Fedya did not always keep his promises. Sometimes, having promised his parents to clean up his toys, he got carried away, forgot and left them scattered.
Once Fedya's parents left him alone at home and asked him not to lean out of the window.
Fedya promised them that he would not stick out of the window, but would draw. He got everything he needed for drawing, settled down in a large room at the table and began to draw.
But as soon as dad and mom left home, Fedya was immediately drawn to the window. Fedya thought: “So what if I promised not to look out, I’ll quickly look out, see what the guys are doing in the yard, and dad and mom won’t even know that I was looking out.”
Fedya put a chair up to the window, climbed onto the window sill, lowered the handle on the frame, and before he even had time to pull the window sash, it flew open on its own. By some miracle, just like in a fairy tale, a flying carpet appeared in front of the window, and on it sat an unfamiliar grandfather. Grandfather, smiling, said:
- Hello, Fedya! Do you want me to roll you on my carpet? …
4. Tale about food
The boy Fedya Yegorov became stubborn at the table:
– I don't want to eat soup and I won't eat porridge.
I don't like bread!
Soup, porridge and bread took offense at him, disappeared from the table and ended up in the forest. Meanwhile, an evil hungry wolf roamed the forest and said:
– I love soup, porridge and bread! Oh how I wish I could eat them!
The food heard this and flew straight into the wolf's mouth. The wolf has eaten, sits contentedly, licks its lips. And Fedya, without having eaten, left the table. For dinner, my mother served potato pancakes with jelly, and Fedya became stubborn again:
– Mom, I don’t want pancakes, I want pancakes with sour cream!
5. The Tale of the Nervous Pike or Egor Kuzmich's Magic Book
There were two brothers, Fedya and Vasya Egorov. They constantly started fights, quarrels, shared something among themselves, quarreled, argued over trifles, and at the same time, the youngest of the brothers, Vasya, always squeaked. Sometimes the eldest of the brothers, Fedya, also squeaked. The squeak of the children was very annoying and distressed to the parents, and especially to the mother.
And people often get sick from grief.
So the mother of these boys fell ill, so much so that she stopped getting up even for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
The doctor who came to treat my mother gave her medicine and said that my mother needed peace and quiet. Dad, leaving for work, asked the children not to make noise. He gave them a book and said:
- The book is interesting, read it. I think you will like it.
6. Fairy tale about Fedya toys
Once upon a time there was a boy Fedya Egorov. Like all children, he had a lot of toys. Fedya loved his toys, played with them with pleasure, but there was one problem - he did not like to clean them up after himself. He will play and quit where he played. Toys lay in disarray on the floor and got in the way, everyone stammered over them, even Fedya himself threw them away.
And one day the toys got tired of it.
– We have to run away from Fedya before they break us completely. We must go to the good guys who take care of their toys and put them away,” said the plastic soldier.
…
7. An instructive tale for boys and girls: Devil's tail
Once upon a time there was a Devil. That Devil had a magical tail. With the help of his tail, the Devil could find himself anywhere, but, most importantly, the Devil's tail could fulfill whatever he wanted, for this he had only to think of a wish and wave his tail. This devil was very evil and very harmful.
He used the magic power of his tail for harmful deeds. He arranged accidents on the roads, drowned people in the rivers, broke the ice under the fishermen, set fires and did many other atrocities. Once the Devil got tired of living alone in his underground kingdom.
He built himself a kingdom on earth, surrounded it with dense forest and swamps so that no one could approach him, and began to think about who else to populate his kingdom. The Devil thought and thought and came up with the idea of populating his kingdom with assistants who would commit harmful atrocities on his orders.
The Devil decided to take naughty children as his helpers. …
Also on topic:
Poem: “Fedya is a nice little boy”
Cheerful boy Fedya
Riding a bicycle,
Fedya is riding along the path,
Stepping back a little to the left.
At this time, Murka, the cat, jumped out onto the path
.
Fedya suddenly slowed down,
Koshka-Murka missed.
Fedya goes on briskly,
A friend shouts to him: - Wait a minute!
Let me ride a little.
It's a friend, not just anyone,
Fedya gave: - Take it, my friend,
Ride one circle.
He himself sat down on a bench,
He sees: a tap, and next to a watering can,
And flowers are waiting in the flowerbed -
Who would give a sip of water.
Fedya, jumping off the bench,
Watered all the flowers from a watering can
And poured some water for the geese,
So that they could drink.
- Our Fedya is so good,
- the cat Prosha suddenly noticed,
- Yes, he suits us as friends,
- said the goose, having drunk some water.
- Woof-woof-woof! – said Polkan,
- Fedya is a nice little boy!
“Fedya is a hooligan boy”
Cheerful little boy Fedya
Riding a bicycle
Straight without a road
Fedya is riding a mischievous one.
Drives straight across the lawn,
Ran into peonies,
Broke three stalks,
And scared off three moths,
He crushed more daisies,
Hooked his shirt on a bush,
Crashed into a bench,
Kicked and overturned a watering can, B
He soaked his sandals in a puddle,
He drove the pedals with mud.
- Ha-ha-ha, - said the gander,
Well, what an eccentric he is,
You have to drive along the path!
- Yes, - said the kitten Proshka,
- there is no road at all!
The cat said: - He does a lot of harm!
- Woof-woof-woof, - said Polkan,
- This boy is a bully!
Fairy tales are poetic stories of extraordinary events and adventures with fictional characters. In modern Russian, the concept of the word "fairy tale" has acquired its meaning since the 17th century.
Until that moment, the word "fable" was supposedly used in this meaning.
One of the main features of a fairy tale is that it is always based on a fictional story with a happy ending, where good triumphs over evil. The stories contain a certain hint, which enables the child to learn to recognize good and evil, to comprehend life on illustrative examples.
Children's fairy tales read online
Reading fairy tales is one of the main and important stages on your child's way to life. A variety of stories make it clear that the world around us is quite contradictory and unpredictable. Listening to stories about the adventures of the main characters, children learn to appreciate love, honesty, friendship and kindness.
Reading fairy tales is useful not only for children. Having matured, we forget that in the end, good always triumphs over evil, that all adversity is unimportant, and the beautiful princess is waiting for her prince on a white horse. To give a little good mood and plunge into the fairy-tale world is quite simple!
Go to bed.
Adults can make babies go to bed on their own. After all, it’s good to lie down and listen to how mom tells interesting short bedtime stories. You can invent them yourself - there are so many objects around, and each of them can temporarily become a participant in a magical action. Ideas are just in the air. You can invent fantastic characters or endow forest animals and pets with magical powers.
Fishes
If you have an aquarium, let its inhabitants inspire a new story. Short bedtime stories can be about fish.
Tell your child that when everyone falls asleep, the light comes on in the aquarium - this is the inhabitants of the underwater kingdom having fun dancing.
You can start the story with the fact that a small catfish (or other fish that is in the home aquarium) lived in an aquarium. Catfish was very fond of singing, but the owners of the aquarium did not hear him. The fish diligently opened its mouth to extract beautiful sounds and was very upset that no one praised it for this.
The owners saw that their catfish was sad and thought it was because of loneliness. They bought him a girlfriend and planted her when the catfish was sleeping. After he woke up, he began to sing as always, and suddenly he heard someone praising him. He was surprised and saw another fish. Somik was glad that now they hear him, he began to try even harder.
The second individual was female and over time the catfish created a strong family, they had many children. And now, when people fall asleep, the fish begin to sing in their own language and dance merrily. From their joy, the aquarium is filled with light that streams in different directions.
Short bedtime stories can be dedicated not only to fish, but also to forest animals.
Rabbit with Magic Ears
Surprise your little one when he goes to bed. Ask if he knows that the magic hare has detachable ears. The beginning of the story will surely interest the child. Tell him if he wants to hear more, let him lie down in his bed.
After that you will be able to continue. Short stories told to children at night will help them fall asleep faster and have good dreams.
So, there lived a bunny with magic ears in the forest. He woke up early, went for a walk and sang his cheerful song. This morning the animal, as always, fastened its ears and went for a walk. On the way, he met a hedgehog, they talked and the hare told him about his magic ears, which can hear what will happen the next day. Friends did not know that their conversation was heard by the evil wizard Mukhomor Muhorovich. He was the lord of three foxes and called them. The foxes have arrived. Mukhomor Muhorovich revealed a secret to them, telling them about the wonderful ears of a hare. The magician ordered the foxes to bring him ears.
They asked the forest dwellers where they could find the hare. But no one answered them, since everyone loved a kind animal, but no predators. But the foxes managed to deceive the squirrel. They said it was the hare's birthday and they were bringing him a present.
The gullible squirrel showed the way to the foxes.
What happened next
They grabbed the hare and took it to the fly agaric. But he did not reward them, but turned chanterelles into mushrooms. He grabbed the hare by the ears, but he broke free and ran away. And the ears remained with Mukhomor Mukhorovich.
Meanwhile, the little squirrel told the animals that the hare had a birthday. Everyone went to him with gifts, but they found him weeping bitterly. Kosoy told the beasts what happened and how he lost his ears.
The animals found a wise old raven and asked him how to defeat Mukhomor Muhorovich. He replied that he needed to say 3 times: "Be healthy." They uttered these words in chorus, and the evil wizard immediately turned into a simple fly agaric mushroom. The animals brought the bunny his ears, and everyone began to sing and have fun.
Such short bedtime stories will allow the child to fall asleep in a good mood, and the next evening, too, quickly go to bed to hear another interesting story.
How the sun argued with the moon
Once, in the late afternoon, the moon and the sun met in the sky. The luminary of the day and says to the night one: “Still, people love me more. In winter, they ask me to appear, then everyone’s mood improves. In the spring they look forward to me, they want me to melt the snow faster, bring warmth closer. I give people a golden tan, warm up the seas, rivers, lakes in which people love to swim so much. over the horizon."
The moon listened to the sun for a long time and replied that she had nothing to say to this, and it would be better to hide behind the clouds, since people do not need it. So the moon did. Meanwhile, a man was returning to his village. At first he walked joyfully along the road, but when the moon hid behind the clouds, it became dark, he lost his way.
Then he began to ask the moon to appear at least for a little while. She looked out, the man found his way home. Then the moon realized that people needed it too, and therefore tried not to hide behind the clouds, but to light the way for night travelers.
White bull and the like
If you want to tell your child very short bedtime stories, jokes will help you out. You can tell about the grandfather and the woman who ate milk porridge. Then tell about the fact that the old man was angry with his wife and slapped her on the stomach (lightly). And then adults know what happened.
When talking about the white bull, you simply repeat the words after the child, first saying the phrase: “Do you want to hear a fairy tale about the white bull”? You can diversify the story by calling it gray or even black.
Funny bedtime stories
Short funny stories that will amuse both adults and children. If you need a fairy tale for an adult, tell me that there was a prince. One day he came to the princess and asked if she would marry him. She answered: "No." Therefore, the prince lived happily ever after - he did what he wanted, went wherever he wanted, no one forbade him anything, etc. Of course, after such a story, all that remains is to laugh.
