Pedagogical Project “The Joy of Reading”
Dear Sir/Madam,
The team responsible for the Project “Joy of Reading” consists of a group of people dedicated to raise the joy of reading stories. For some years now, the team involved in the project has worked together with schools, libraries, and foster centres, as well as other places, to encourage the love of reading among people of all ages and to promote literacy. So we decided to share stories via email on a weekly basis with everyone who is interested in receiving them.
The project consists of 2 weekly stories, sent by e-mail – one for a young and adult audience and another one shorter and more suitable for early ages. Each story is about values such as peace, solidarity, respect, gentleness, and responsibility, among others, while also working as a reflection on the fundamental ethical principles of the world we all live in.
Below you can read 2 stories and take your time to enjoy them or you can read them in the PDF attachment where they are written in colourful fonts and with pictures.
If you are interested in receiving 2 stories every week in your email, you will have to subscribe. If you don’t subscribe within the next weeks, you will stop receiving the story.
· If you are interested in receiving the weekly stories in your email, please reply: “I would like to subscribe to the Joy of Reading Project”.
· If you don’t want to receive the weekly stories, please reply: “I don’t want to subscribe to the Joy of Reading Project”.
The subscription is totally free of charge and you can unsubscribe when you want to. We also assure you that your email address will remain strictly confidential.
If you found our project interesting, we wish you a good reading !
The Joy of Reading team
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Stories-for-Everyone/125862557478585
___________________________
This week’s stories - PDF attachments with colourful pictures:
· THE ROYAL BEE
· ZIGZAG
** * **
ZIGZAG
“I’ll name you Zigzag,” said the dollmaker, as she finished sewing her new doll’s mouth.
He was made of scraps. He was odd-looking, with spiky hair, patchwork clothes and tiny wings.
His zigzag mouth made him look sad, but something about him made the dollmaker smile.
The dollmaker put Zigzag on a shelf with the other dolls.
“Some child will love you,” she told him.
Then she put out the lights and closed her shop for the night.
That night the toys woke and stared at the strange new doll.
“What mother would buy that awful thing for her child?” wondered the lion.
The penguin agreed, “He’d give a little boy or girl nightmares.”
“I’m just special,” Zigzag insisted.
“You’re just ugly,” the elephant snorted.
The other dolls began to laugh. “Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho!”
“Hee-hee-hee!” they roared, “You are so very UG-ly!”
The bunnies began to chant, “Squeeze him out! Squeeze him out! Squeeze him out!”
All the dolls helped the bunnies push Zigzag off the shelf.
As Zigzag fell, he tumbled past the stuffed satin pots thumpty-thump right into the wastebasket.
When the dollmaker opened her shop the next morning, all the dolls sat silently as if nothing had happened.
Then she emptied the wastebasket into the dustbin behind her shop.
That night, Zigzag struggled out of the dustbin.
Some child will love me, he told himself, remembering what the dollmaker had said.
While crossing the park, he heard, “Who? Who? Who?” from a treetop.
“I’m Zigzag,” he answered.
A hunting owl swooped down and carried Zigzag high into the sky, thinking he might make a good dinner.
But when he realized Zigzag was a doll, he let him go.
Zigzag fell into a meadow of thick, soft grass. As he brushed himself off, whispery voices asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m Zigzag,” he said.
Three field mice crept out of the grass.
“Why are you here?” they asked.
“I’m looking for a child to love me,” he said.
The mice took him to wise Papa Mouse.
“I want to find a child to love me,” Zigzag told him.
“Our cousins live in a house nearby,” said Papa. “The little girl there feeds them bread and cheese.”
“She sounds just like the kind of child I’m looking for,” said Zigzag.
“My children will take you there,” said Papa Mouse. “But watch out for the hungry owl.”
So off they went.
Suddenly the owl flew down to see what made the meadow grass move.
Up jumped Zigzag, shouting, “Remember me?”
“Silly doll,” the owl screeched. And he flew away without ever seeing the little mice.
The windows of the little girl’s house were dark. Everyone was asleep. With the mice’s help, Zigzag climbed the steps to the front porch.
“Do you think the little girl will like me?” he asked.
“She will love you,” the mice promised.
The next morning, the little girl found Zigzag sitting on her porch. She hugged him and took him to her room. There she sat him at a toy table, served him cups of tea and told him funny stories.
I’ve finally found someone to love me, Zigzag thought.
And his sad-looking zigzag mouth turned into a smile of joy.
Robert San Souci; Stefan Czernecki
Zig Zag
London, Tradewind Books Limited, 2005
** * **
THE ROYAL BEE
AUTHORS' NOTE
The Royal Bee was inspired by the true story of our grandfather; Hong Seung Han, when he was an illiterate boy in late nineteenth-century Korea. Too poor to attend school, he would eavesdrop at the door of the rich children's schoolhouse until he was eventually allowed to attend. After he won a national academic contest, the Governor of his province invited him to reside in the palace. There, he tutored the Governor's young son while continuing his education.
Years later our grandfather attended seminary in Pyongyang under the teachings of an American missionary and became a prominent church minister. In 1905 he wed our grandmother; Pang Seung Hwa. Together they became missionaries in China.
***
In the days when kings ruled Korea, only the privileged yangban children went to school. They wore fine clothing and carried handsome books. They competed in The Royal Bee at the Governor's palace. They grew up to be scholars and noblemen. Song-ho was not among the privileged. He was a sangmin boy dressed in rags. But the distant sound of a school bell made him dream of the day when he could read books and write poetry.
Song-ho watched his mother wash her tired face in a bowl of water as the meager dawn light worked its way into their small hut. She stood over Song-ho and murmured, “Be good today.” “I will do all my chores,” Song-ho promised. Then she was off into the autumn cornfields. Song-ho's father had been a fisherman, but he died at sea years ago. Song-ho's mother worked as a farmhand harvesting whatever crop was in season to put food on the table. If she was lucky, she would bring home an armload of wilted fruits or vegetables. Song-ho began his morning chores. He swept the hut, soaked soybeans for supper, and washed rags in the mountain stream.
As Song-ho squeezed the last rag in the stream, the sound of a bell rang deep in the valley where many yangbans lived. Ding dong, ding dong. This was the sound of the school bell from The Sodang School!
Ding dong, ding dong, the school bell rang as Song-ho carried the wet rags back to the hut. Ding dong, ding dong, the sound echoed in his ears.
As if the bell were calling him, Song-ho followed it deep into the valley. At last he came upon The Sodang School, surrounded by golden rain trees. The school was more beautiful than he ever imagined. The bell was now still and silent for study time. Song-ho tiptoed toward the rice-paper door.
The shadow of a master giving instruction to a roomful of yangban pupils rose before him. Suddenly, the door slid open.
The master towered over Song-ho in the doorway. He stroked his long, silvery beard. “I am Master Min. What brings you here, child?”
“I am Song-ho. May I be your pupil?” the boy eagerly inquired.
Master Min looked down at Song-ho in his rags and frowned. “No, that is not possible.”
“How can I grow up to earn a good living for my mother when I cannot read or write?” Song-ho begged for an answer.
The boy's bravery brought a lump to Master Min's throat. But rules were rules, and sangmins were not allowed to attend The Sodang School.
“Go home, Song-ho,” Master Min said, sliding the door closed.
But Song-ho did not budge. He kept his ear to the door and listened to Master Min's lesson. Little did Song-ho know that Master Min could see his small, huddling shadow through the door! But Master Min was a man with a kind heart. He took pity on Song-ho and allowed him to (…)
(see PDF attachment)