C Merry has created an epic rambling fairy tale that weaves her own modern perspective through the classic stories that children have been familiar with for centuries. The result is both humorous and unsettling. C Merry combines these tales with mythology and Christmas to explain things that have been long forgotten. It’s a beautiful way to start the holidays. You’ll find out that the Pied Piper had money troubles and was working out of his van. Santa Clawz is a wormhole-travelling wildman who began the holiday tradition of sneaking into houses to counteract the effects of war. Instead of dropping bombs, he dropped gifts. He was also descended from grizzly bears.

The story unfolds over a series of partially animated illustrations that are gorgeously detailed, showing squiggly pen lines inside every detail. These pictures are backed by a dense and mysterious soundscape.

What C Merry seems to be doing is connected the world’s most charming tales for children to the much deeper and darker subterranean world of mythology. It works. She has created a mystical world of danger and beauty.

You can also read the entire illustrated tale at the author’s blog.

An animation by Donna Kendrigan based on a Japanese folktale.  A magic box from an island under the sea!

Shaun Clark and Kim Noce at Mew Lab made The Magic Fish for broadcast on a BBC television show for children. It’s an Italian folk tale about a couple who have very little but get some assistance from an ancient chestnut tree and a magic fish. The animation is full of mixed media painting, paper, and photographs.  My favorite part is the ocean with the little boat near the end.

adapted by Adam Price (Peace Corps Volunteer, Haiti, 1996–1998)

You can also listen to this story by clicking here.

Photo by Garrett Crawford

There once was a gentle little donkey named Zel Nan Pye. Everyone in town would call out, “Hello, Zel!” as she trotted by, and Zel’s long, furry ears would stick straight up at the sound. Although Zel longed to turn her big, brown eyes and reply, Madame Charity, her owner, held her reins too tight.

“Keep moving!” Madame Charity would call out from above her. “I haven’t time for any social calls.”

As much as everyone in town loved Zel, they feared Madame Charity. She was an angry, spiteful old woman who threw stones at birds when they sang and hollered at little girls when they laughed. But to poor Zel, she was the meanest of all.

Every Saturday, Madame Charity loaded Zel down with heavy sacks of rice and sugar that she sold at the market. Although the old woman knew that whoever arrived at the market earliest sold the most, she always woke up late.

In a flurry of curses, she would rush to gather her sacks of rice and sugar. Then, throwing them across Zel’s back, she’d tie the cords so tight that Zel could hardly breathe. Finally, she’d heave herself on top of Zel, kick her in the belly, and ride off in a cloud of dust, screaming, “Faster, you stupid donkey! Faster!”

Zel never understood why Madame Charity was so mean to her. Zel always trotted to the market as quickly as she could. Besides, she liked the market. All the other donkeys from around the countryside gathered there. Under the cool shade of banana trees, Zel would trade jokes and play games with the other donkeys. But Madame Charity’s whippings made her dread the trip.

One evening, after Zel had returned home from the market, Zel’s friend Touloulou crawled over the see her. Touloulou was a crab that lived in Madame Charity’s backyard.

“Did you have a good day, Zel?” Touloulou asked.

“Well,” said Zel with a sigh, “it was nice to see the other donkeys, but Madame Charity hit me so hard that I couldn’t join their games. I had to lie down.

“You know,” Zel continued, “I trot fast and I’m not afraid to carry a heavy load on my back. I just don’t understand why she hits me.”

“Madame always gets up late for the market—and you know she will never blame herself—so she hits you,” replied Touloulou, matter-of-factly.

“I think you’re right,” Zel agreed. “Today she didn’t sell very much, and she whipped me even more than usual. The other donkeys say that everyone is afraid of Madame, and that’s why she sells so little.

“But, Touloulou,” Zel continued, “I can’t take it anymore. My back aches, my feet hurt, and I’m tired of Madame’s beatings.”

“Why don’t you just give Madame a great big kick back?” Touloulou suggested.

Shocked, Zel answered, “Oh, no, I couldn’t! It wouldn’t be right! Besides, she’d just beat me all the more.”

“Don’t worry, Zel,” said Touloulou. “Touloulou the Crab is at your service! The next time Madame Charity goes to the market, I’ll take care of her. She won’t ever beat you again.”

The following Saturday, Madame Charity woke up and screamed, “Aaaugh! It’s 9 o’clock! I’m late.” Just as she was scrambling to gather her sacks for the market, Touloulou crawled past Madame’s doorway and hid himself deep inside a sack of sugar. After Madame Charity threw the sacks across Zel and climbed on top, Touloulou scuttled down from his hiding place. Then he held onto the hem of Madame’s long skirt, making sure he was close to Madame’s ankle.

No sooner had they started down the road than Madame Charity, remembering how late she was, raised her hand to swat Zel. But just as her hand was about to rain down on Zel’s beautiful ears, Touloulou pinched her with his claw.

“Aaaugh!” shrieked the woman. “Ooouch! I must have hurt myself when I was loading the sacks and saddle,” she muttered to herself.

For a few moments, Madame Charity tried to soothe the ankle with her hand. She forgot how late she was. But then the image of the other rice and sugar sellers popped into her mind, and she yelled, “Can’t you go any faster, donkey!” Zel was already trotting as fast as she could.

Madame Charity raised her hand once more. But before she could bring her hand down on Zel, Touloulou pinched the back of Madame’s ankle again.

“Aaugh! Ooouch!” shouted Madame Charity. “What an awful pain. I must stay calm,” she told herself, “I don’t want to hurt my ankle further.”

And so Madame Charity rode on, thinking how she must be more careful loading those heavy sacks, and how she might just have to take more time in the morning to prepare for the market.

As they neared the market, Madame Charity steered Zel in the direction of her usual market stall. But as they approached, Madame Charity saw that someone else was already seated in her stall—and measuring a can of sugar to sell! In a fit of jealousy, Madame Charity raised her hand to strike Zel. But Touloulou clamped down with all his might on Madame’s ankle.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” screamed Madame Charity.

Hearing Madame’s screams, the people in the market gathered around her.

“What’s wrong?” asked a little girl with braids.

“I got up late,” said Madame with tears in her eyes, “and in hurrying to get ready, I must have injured my foot. It hurts so much!”

“You need to get up early, Madame,” said the fishmonger. Although the fishmonger was not fond of Madame Charity, she felt sorry for the old woman. “Next week, I will come by your house at six o’clock to make sure that you don’t oversleep.”

“Yes,” joined in the fruit seller, “I will come by and wake you, too. Let me take a look at your ankle.” This was the first time the fruit seller had even talked to Madame Charity. Although she knew her, she avoided Madame because she was so unpleasant. But today the old woman was in pain. The fruit seller spoke gently to her.

When Madame realized how concerned everyone was about her ankle, she smiled through her tears. That day, for the first time, Madame Charity sold all her rice and sugar. After the market was over, she saddled Zel and rode quietly home.

Back in the yard, unaware of Touloulou’s actions, Zel said to the crab, “She seemed to want to hit me, but stopped short and screamed in pain. And she rode all the way home without raising her hand or cursing me. I wonder what made her change?”

Touloulou smiled and recounted his adventures that day. “Every time her hand went up,” Touloulou laughed, “‘snap!’ went my claw on her heel!”

“Oh, my!” said Zel, worried about Madame Charity’s foot. “I guess she learned what it’s like to be me!”

The End

“Wings on Her Feet” adapted by the Peace Corps

Here are some ways to give earthquake assistance to the people of Haiti:

The Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders and the United Nations Food Program are putting medical supplies, doctors, nurses, food and water on the ground in Haiti to try to prevent the worsening catastrophe and enormous loss of life.

adapted by Donalson Latour

'Children Playing' by Montas Antoine (Port-au-Prince, Haiti) 1960

One day Mr. Cat and Mr. Dog were in a discussion about going to God to ask him a favor. Mr. Cat says he was going to God to ask him “can dead people don’t come back to life,” and Mr. Dog says he was going to ask God “can dead people come back to life.”

So they decided to race each other to see who’s going to get to God first. Mr. Cat was so clever; he puts a bone in every corner that he knows Mr. Dog was going to turn on so he can slow him down. Mr. Dog thought of something smart too but he was not clever enough to trick Mr. Cat, so Mr. Dog puts a bowl of milk in every corner that he knows Mr. Cat was going to turn on so he can slow down.

While Mr. Cat was running he saw the milks but he didn’t pay any attention to them because he knows what Mr. Dog was trying to do. And Mr. Dog was so stupid and greedy, he stopped in every corner to enjoy the bones that Mr. Cat prepared for him but he didn’t know if it was a trick to slow him down.

So then, Mr. Cat reaches God first, when Mr. Cat gets to God he started talking to him and said, “God I don’t want you to bring dead people back to life,” and God said, “Okay no problem.”

Then Mr. Cat went home. When Mr. Dog finally finished enjoying his bones, he went to God and said “God, can dead people come back to life?” and God said, “I’m sorry Mr. Dog, Mr. Cat already came here and told me that he doesn’t want dead people come back to life.”

So, since then, dogs don’t like cats. And every time a cat sees a dog, the cats always trying to approach the dogs friendly but dogs always give them mean look. That’s why cats and dogs never get along.

The End

“Why Cats and Dogs Never Get Along” has a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License

Here are some ways to give earthquake assistance to the people of Haiti:

The Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders and the United Nations Food Program are putting medical supplies, doctors, nurses, food and water on the ground in Haiti to try to prevent the worsening catastrophe and enormous loss of life.

translated and illustrated by Vaibhav Kodikal (Mumbai, India)

This illustrated story is one of the most wonderful things we ever received at Candlelight Stories. It was sent to us back in 1997 by a young man named Vaibhav Kodikal from Mumbai, India. This was one of his first illustration projects, finished while he was still in school. The Times of India did an article about how he made this story and published it on Candlelight Stories. He was and remains one of our very favorite artists. We hope he is doing very well indeed today.

The Panchatantra – The Brahmin’s Tale is from the oldest extant collection of fables in Sanskrit literature. Dating from the 4th century AD, it is based on still earlier collections of folk tales. The Panchatantra is sometimes attributed to an Indian sage, Bidpai (flourished about 300 A.D.). The tales, primarily about animals, are organized into five books on such topics as winning friends, losing property and waging war. They were originally intended to instruct a young prince in the conduct that would ensure his worldly success.

The Tale Begins

Long, long ago there was a poor Brahmin named Krishnan. He could not find enough work to do. Sometimes, he and his family had to go without food.

At last Krishnan decided to leave his village in search of work. Early next morning, before his wife and children woke up, he left the house. He did not know where to go or what to do. He just walked away.

He walked the whole day until he came to a thick jungle. He was tired, thirsty and hungry. While looking around for water to drink, he found a well.

He went to the well and looked in. There he saw a jaguar, a monkey, a snake and a man. They had all fallen into the well.

“O, noble Brahmin,” the jaguar called out to him, “Please help me out, so that I can go back to my family.”

“But you are a jaguar,” said Krishnan. “I am afraid of you. How can I pull you out of this well? How do I know you will not kill me?”

“Don’t be afraid of me, my dear man,” replied the jaguar. “I promise I will not do you any harm. Please take pity on me and save my life.”

“I suppose I might as well save him,” thought Krishnan. “It is always good to be kind to others.” Krishnan reached into the well and pulled out the jaguar.

The jaguar thanked him and said, “Let me introduce myself. I’m Shersingh. Do you see those mountains over there? I live there in a cave. I shall be most delighted if you could visit me someday. Perhaps I could repay my debt to you.”

Krishnan then heard the monkey calling out to him from the well. “Holy Sir, won’t you pull me out too?” The Brahmin at once pulled the monkey out. The monkey thanked the Brahmin. “If you are ever in need of food, just drop in at my place. It is just over there, below that big mountain. By the way, Bali is the name.”

Now the snake called out to him. “Please help me too.” “Help you!” exclaimed Krishnan. “You are a snake. What if you bite me?” “I shall never bite you,” said the snake. “You need not be afraid of me at all. Please save me.” So Krishnan pulled the snake out of the well.

“I am very grateful, my dear Sir,” said the snake. “Remember, if you are ever in any difficulty, just call out my name – Naagesh, and wherever you are, I shall find you.”

The jaguar, the monkey and the snake took leave of the Brahmin. But before they left, they spoke to him about the man in the well. “Please do not help him,” said Shersingh. “If you do,” said Naagesh, “you will be in trouble yourself.”

As soon as they left, the man in the well began to call out. He begged Krishnan to save him too. Krishnan felt sorry for the man and pulled him out of the well.

“Thank you for your kindness,” said the man. “I am Seth Ghanshyamdas. I am a goldsmith. I live in the city near here. If you ever need my help, don’t hesitate to visit my humble house.” The goldsmith then left for home.

After some time, the Brahmin continued his journey. But luck was against him. He could find no work. In the end he thought it would be best if he killed himself. He made up his mind to jump into the river and drown. But then he remembered Shersingh the jaguar, Bali the monkey, Naagesh the snake, and Seth the goldsmith. He thought it was time to seek their help.

He first went to Bali, the monkey. The monkey was overjoyed to see him. He gave him a warm welcome and offered him some really delicious fruits. “You are always welcome here, dear Krishnan,” said Bali when the Brahmin told him how grateful he was.

Now Krishnan wanted to see how Shersingh, the jaguar would treat him. Bali showed him the way to the jaguar’s cave. As soon as Shersingh saw Krishnan coming, he ran out to welcome him. He had not forgotten the Brahmin who saved his life.

Shersingh gave Krishnan a beautiful gold necklace and other precious jewelry. “Take this, my dear friend,” roared Shersingh, “a small token of my gratitude and respect. Take this and make a great new start.” Krishnan thanked Shersingh for the jewelry and parted.

His journey had at last brought him luck, he thought. He would be able to sell the ornaments for a good price. Then he could return home. How happy his wife would be. With the money he would get, they could live happily. But who could help him to sell the ornaments?

He then remembered Seth Ghanshyamdas, the goldsmith. Would he help? He went to him. The goldsmith was glad to see Krishnan. “What brings you here?” he asked.

I have come to ask for your help,” replied Krishnan. “Here are some ornaments. Please give me a good price for them.”

Seth Ghanshyamdas took the jewelry and examined it carefully.

“I shall certainly help you,” he said. “But let me show them to another goldsmith. Please wait here. Help yourself to some refreshments. I will be right back.”

The goldsmith called his wife and asked her to look after the Brahmin. He then went out with the ornaments. Seth at once rushed to the Palace of the King Wodeyar of Mysore.

“Salutations to His Majesty the King Wodeyar of Mysore,” he said. “A man brought these ornaments to me and asked me to sell them. But they are the ornaments I made for the Prince who is missing. So I told this man to wait in my house and ran here at once, Your Majesty, to show them to you.”

“Who is this man? Where is he?” thundered the King. “This scum of the earth must have murdered my little Prince and robbed his jewels!”

“He is a Brahmin named Krishnan, Your Majesty,” replied the goldsmith, “and he is there, in my house.”

The King called for his most dreaded soldiers and they came running at once.
“Arrest the Brahmin who is in the goldsmith’s house and throw him into the darkest dungeons of the kingdom!” roared the King.

The King’s guard stormed into the goldsmith’s house and seized Krishnan. The Brahmin could not understand what was going on.

“Why are you doing this?” he cried. “What have I done?” he asked the guards.

“You have dared to kill the young Prince and steal his jewels,” snapped one of the guards. “You will certainly be put to death for this great crime.”

Krishnan was bewildered. There was no way out and no one to help him.

Krishnan was thrown into a dark dungeon to await his execution. He then remembered the words of Naagesh, the snake he had pulled out of the well. So he called out to the snake. Suddenly, almost like magic, Naagesh, the snake slithered his way down a narrow window into the dingy cell.

“O, Lord!” hissed Naagesh, “how did you manage to get yourself arrested?”

“Please help me,” cried Krishnan. “I have been sentenced to death for a crime I did not commit.” Krishnan then told the snake what had happened.

“I have a plan,” hissed Naagesh, as his eyes began to grow fiery red. “I know how to get you out.”

“Tell me,” cried Krishnan.

“I shall creep into the Queen’s room and bite her,” said Naagesh. “She will faint. No matter what they do, she will remain asleep.”

“What then?” asked Krishnan.

“The poison will remain in her body until you place you hand on her forehead,” explained Naagesh.

He then left Krishnan and went to the palace. He crept into the Queen’s room and bit her. The Queen fainted.

The sad news that the Queen had been bitten by a snake spread all over the Kingdom.

Hakims and Vaidyas came from far and near, but their medicines had no effect. No one could revive the Queen.

Finally, the King declared that anyone who could cure the Queen would be handsomely rewarded. Many people went to the palace to cure the Queen but all of them failed.

“I can cure the Queen,” Krishnan told the guards.

At once they took him to the palace and the King took him to the Queen. She lay there almost lifeless and very pale. The snake’s poison had turned her blue.

Krishnan sat beside the Queen and placed his hand on her forehead. Soon, she opened her eyes and sat up. The poison had left her.

There was joy throughout the land. The King was overjoyed and shed tears of happiness. He embraced Krishnan and thanked him.

“Your Majesty,” said Krishnan, “I was sent to prison for a crime I did not commit.”

“What do you mean?” asked the King.

Krishnan told him the whole story. The King was fuming with rage when he heard what the goldsmith had done. He at once had the goldsmith arrested.

The King was sorry that Krishnan was falsely accused of murder and robbery. He then presented him with a large house and a thousand pieces of gold.
Krishnan sent for his family and they all lived happily ever after.

THE END

‘The Panchatantra’ is copyrighted by Vaibhav Kodikal all rights reserved.