this is Ria welcome to little stories for tiny people I have a guest kind of you see I haven't had a guest in my studio in a while and I suppose I wanted to ease back into it by having a quieter someone who might simply listen and not offer a ton of commentary, if that makes sense.
So, please give a hearty welcome to Tanya the sponge.
Now you might be thinking, Ria, I use a sponge to clean the pots and pans after dinner without being asked to.
Sponges cannot be guests in studios, but I'm not talking about a dish sponge.
Tanya is a sea sponge, and she is, indeed, an animal.
Right now, she's in a lovely seawater tank right next to me, so she cannot knock over anything important, like my stack of breakable plates.
Also, she can't say anything, which is a pleasant bonus.
Basically, she'll listen and exist while I tell you a story, which is really what I'm going for today.
Let's get to our story.
It's called The Forest Apothecary.
Take it away, Islet.
Remember, there are no pictures.
You have to imagine the pictures in your mind.
You can imagine them however you want.
Okay, here we go. Goldie could still remember, vividly, the day her gray -whiskered grandfather put a shaky paw on her shoulder, looked into her eyes, and said, Goldie, my dear, you have the touch. She had protested.
Oh, had she protested.
Grandfather, I think you're mistaken.
Aiken. I don't know the first thing about being an apothecary.
He'd simply laughed warmly and shrugged.
You'll learn. I knew less than nothing when I started.
Grandfather Raccoon had 43 grandchildren to choose from to carry on the family tradition handed down through the generations, but he chose her.
Goldie had indeed learned.
She had, over many years, become the most trusted apothecary in the forest, known for her encyclopedic knowledge of illnesses and their symptoms as well as the corresponding herbal mixtures and salves that provided relief.
leaf. Forest creatures came to her when no one else could help them.
And somehow, now, all these years later, years that showed in her own gray whiskers and in her achy right knee, now it was time for Goldie to pass on the family tradition.
You have the touch, Misty, she'd told her granddaughter one morning when the girl had stopped by on her way home from school.
Goldie had expected the same protest she'd given her grandfather, so much so that she already had a response ready.
How wrong I was. I did have the touch, after all.
I just couldn't see it yet.
But Misty had not protested.
Me? Oh, Grandmother, I can't believe it.
What an honor. Misty's enthusiasm took her grandmother by surprise, and it made everything suddenly real.
The fact that she was nearing the end of her work.
The fact that, after all these years, she'd have to hang up her mixing spoons for good.
And so, Goldie set about training her granddaughter, readying her.
She was an excellent student, diligent and focused.
Everything had gone to plan, until the fateful late summer morning, when Misty showed up at the tree where Goldie ran her apothecary shop.
Raccoons are usually asleep at that hour, but Goldie kept different hours than other raccoons.
She made a point to serve creatures on all shifts.
Her waking hours began at midnight and ran until noon.
When Misty showed up at the shop, Goldie was already deep into her day's work.
Misty, Goldie said, without looking up from a mortar and pestle she was using to crush some herbs.
I'm glad you're here.
My paws are covered in turmeric.
Can you grab me a bottle of licorice root?
Goldie didn't need to point it out.
Misty had memorized the locations of everything in the shop months ago.
Sure enough, the young raccoon swiftly deposited it on the counter.
It was not until Misty spoke, with a warble in her voice.
Here you go, Grandmother.
That Goldie glanced up from her work.
Misty, your eyes are red.
They look like they're about to water.
Well, I... How's your head?
Is it in pain? No. What about your throat?
It's okay. Those eyes of yours are just so red.
I wonder if... Grandmother.
Now there's been a virus going around.
Grandmother Yes I'm not sick Oh I don't want to disappoint you But whatever do you I can't become an apothecary What I know this may come as a shock But grandmother I'm joining the circus It did come as a shock The whole story Which tumbled out of Misty I've gotten so good at juggling I'm an excellent tree swinger too That's what the coaches tell me anyway.
They say I've got a lot of raw talent, so...
It all came as an immense shock.
Goldie listened for a long time, until finally, Misty finished.
I'm leaving next week.
I'll be on tour for a year.
We're going to Thirteen Forests.
at length goldie said so that's it then misty's eyes brightened you know i wouldn't just leave you without an apprentice you didn't think that did you goldie had not thought that she had not thought about any of this she had thought she had an airtight plan for the future But now, Ralph is going to be your new apprentice.
It took Goldie a moment to process this information.
Ralph. Ralphie. Her grandson.
Misty's younger brother.
Ralph, who could be accurately described as a goofball.
Oh, how Goldie loved Ralph.
Everyone loved Ralph.
But Ralph, Goldie thought quietly to herself, does not have the touch. What am I going to do?
Ralph arrived the following morning as Goldie dealt with a customer.
Goldie took in her grandson's charming grin and scruffy fur that looked like it needed a good brushing.
She watched as he roved around the shop, peering at bottles, then turned her attention back to Emerald Porcupine.
You say Dr. Muskrat sent you?
He was stumped after the tea he gave me didn't work.
Sore throat, you say?
Like a wolverine's claws?
That's a good description for it.
Emerald agreed wearily.
Goldie clicked her tongue.
heads on the receiving end of a volley of walnuts.
Yes? Is there a buzzing in your ears, as if a swarm of bees has taken up residence?
Emerald went still for a moment, her brow wrinkled, as if it was effortful to assess whether her ears were buzzing.
Now that you mention it, Emerald said quietly, there's certainly a beehive in there.
Within moments, Emerald was on her way out the door.
Thank you, Goldie. With a bottle of the same concoction, Goldie had given the three other creatures who had come to her shop yesterday with the very same symptoms. Wow, Grandmother, Ralph said, bounding towards her.
That was impressive.
You're a real... Ralph's tail whipped behind him, knocking a bottle of Slippery Elm off the end of a shelf.
Oops. I'm really sorry, have I said that?
Ralph said, minutes later, as he helped his grandmother pluck up the last shards of the bottle.
About seven times. Well, I'm sorry for an eighth time.
It's alright. right, Goldie said, getting to her feet.
But inside, she thought, how will I ever teach him?
There was a rap at the shop door.
It was Cal, the delivery squirrel.
Goldie, how you doing?
I got some fennel. Oh, excellent.
Some dandelion root.
Oh, good, good. A patch of cayenne pepper.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, and this letter.
Oh. Cal occasionally brought letters along with his herb deliveries.
Goldie grasped the crisp envelope.
As she tore it open, she rolled her eyes as she heard Ralph, ever the conversationalist, strike up a conversation with Cal.
You get hit by a flock of birds on the way here?
You've got some feathers on your shoulder.
Oh, no, no, that's from from Silvio, my pet pigeon.
Just got him last week.
He sits on my shoulder and nuzzles my head.
I'll have to teach him to be less chatty.
As Goldie turned her focus to the letter, her heart sped up.
It was from her landlady, a kindly gopher named Rosemarie, who owned the tree where Goldie ran her shop.
Goldie had been renting a space there for years, and she'd received the exact same letter every summer, letting her know her tree rental contract would be renewed in a week unless Goldie contacted Rosemary to cancel.
This letter, this simple letter, had never before made her heart race.
She'd always known what to expect the following year.
She'd keep doing her job, helping the forest creatures with their varied ailments.
But that was then. This year, she'd expected to hand off her business to Misty, who had proven herself so adept at juggling the many demands of an apothecary.
Apparently, Misty had a very different kind of juggling in mind for herself.
herself. Cal's voice brought Goldie back to the situation at hand.
So, uh, Ralph, you're Goldie's new employee?
I'm her new apprentice.
I'm also her grandson.
Well, uh, nice to meet you.
Guess I'll be seeing a lot of you.
Goldie eyed her young grandson, who grinned, always grinning, that one, and brushed a leaf off his shoulder.
Yes, Cal, I suppose you will be seeing a lot of him, Goldie whispered.
Then she took a look at Cal, who seemed ready to head off.
Cal, you've got hives on your face.
Oh, they're still there?
Yes. Hold on, I've got an ointment for you to put on them.
Should clear them up in a jiffy.
Well, thanks, Goldie.
Once Cal headed out with his ointment.
See ya, Goldie. See ya, Ralph.
It was late morning.
The shop was empty.
Sunlight poured through the little windows of the tree.
Goldie and her grandson were alone alone.
For the first time all day.
Ralphie, I know Misty told you that Goldie began not quite knowing where to go next.
She looked to the dusty floor, her thoughts in a tangle.
How can I train him?
He doesn't have the touch. But how can I not train him?
I can't lose the shop.
I can't let the The unending chain of family apothecaries end with me.
Grandmother, Ralph said, interrupting her musings.
I know you're skeptical of me.
Goldie met her grandson's eyes.
You can tell that? Call me observant.
Look, Grandmother, I've always admired your work.
I never thought I'd get to be the one to carry it forward. Misty seemed like a shoo -in.
But if you give me a chance, I know I can.
Their time alone together was cut short by a stampede of animals barreling into the shop.
This was not usually a busy time of day.
Animals were occupied foraging for berries and building tree houses.
Houses, night time and early morning were the times when they'd amble in, aching and whimpering, asking for a soothing tea.
It took until a dramatic badger named Phoebe cried, It's the itches!
It's the dreaded paw itches!
for Goldie to understand why there were a dozen creatures in her tiny shop frantically scrabbling at their paws.
Immediately, she leapt into action.
Ralph, grab that bowl for me, will you?
And that bottle. No, no, no, not that one.
The one with the blue label.
The other blue label.
Good. and three spoons.
If only Misty were here, she muttered, dashing about to prepare an itch treatment.
Meantime, the animals were practically wailing.
It feels like there are beetles inside my paw.
What can I do? Ralph said from over Goldie's shoulder.
How can I help? Goldie had had to bite her tongue so she didn't say what was on her mind.
Just get out of the way and let me work.
But with a jolt, she realized she could not open the jar of valerian root in her paws.
This had been happening more and more.
Goldie's right paw had a touch of arthritis that had not responded to any of her best treatments.
Her paw had weakened.
and jars, of all things, had become her arch enemies.
Here, she said, handing it over.
You can open this for me.
Sure thing, Ralph said, grabbing the jar.
You closed this pretty tightly, Grandma.
The animals were getting restless.
It itches. Oh, it itches.
Goldie's heart was racing again.
He can't even open a jar for me.
Here, let me have it, she said, reaching for the jar.
No, no, I'm gonna get it.
Ralphie, Goldie said, grabbing at the jar in his paws.
I really need to. The jar slipped from Ralph's grip and hit the counter, splashing its contents into Goldie's eyes.
Oh, ow. Everything went dark.
Goldie could hear her grandson.
Grandmother, are you okay?
I'm sorry, I didn't think you were going to grab it like that.
And she could hear the customers.
Sandpaper, do you have sandpaper?
My claws are barely making a dent in these itches.
But she couldn't see anything, which made sense, because what had splashed into her eyes at full strength was a very powerful solution.
She usually only used a drop or two in an ointment.
Suddenly, her shop was busier than at any time in the last year and she couldn't see anything at all.
Pour a teaspoon of the yellow powder into the bowl.
bowl. The teaspoon is, Misty would know this, Goldie thought, then put it out of her mind.
The smaller one. Ah, mix it vigorously for 20 seconds.
No more, no less. 20 seconds, got it.
Beyond the familiar sound of the spoon kissing the sides of the bowl, Goldie could hear the itchy She animals huddled in a corner, discussing their plights.
I'm pretty sure Martin gave it to us.
That's right. He high -fived all of us.
Definitely Martin. But she still couldn't see them, at least not clearly.
She could make out the general blur of her shop, and a more specific blur beside her, her grandson, son, who had been completely focused and attentive, following Goldie's precise instructions for the last ten minutes.
Three, two, one. Okay, what's next, grandmother?
Goldie squinted. It's pale yellow.
Yeah, a light golden color.
Perfect. Goldie, any chance that ointment's ready?
we're dying over here yes she said with a smile come get it it's done goldie watched bleary -eyed as ralph carefully swabbed the ointment onto her customers paws the beetles are gone thank you so much i had thought this is my life now itchy paws forever you're my hero ralph that last statement from estella rabbit sent a little shiver down goldie's tail because it was true for her too you're my hero ralph you are apparently my unlikely hero in more ways than one.
Ralph came back the next day, and the day after that.
He arrived at midnight.
Once he even showed up before Goldie arrived, startling her as she approached in the darkness.
Hey, Grand - Ah! Oh!
Ralph. I nearly reached for my bear spray.
Bray. He was still clumsy.
There were a few more broken bottles, spills here and there, but Ralph was not a goofball.
Well, he wasn't only a goofball.
He was also a smart, dedicated young raccoon.
And Goldie learned something new about her grandson when Cal, the delivery squirrel stopped by on a bright morning at the end of summer.
All right, how we doing?
I got some echinacea.
Perfect. Some capsules of goldenseal.
I'd completely run out.
And a bushel of nettle leaves.
Oh, they've been so hard to get.
And a letter. Goldie arched a brow as she accepted the crisp envelope.
It couldn't be from Rosemary.
Marie. Goldie had stopped by her treehouse yesterday to confirm she'd be staying another year.
It's from Misty, Goldie chuckled as she scanned the paper.
She says she's learned how to juggle torches.
Ralph laughed. We'll have to go see her in the circus, grandmother.
What do do you think?
Goldie grinned at her grandson.
I think I would like that.
Well, uh, I gotta get going.
You two have a good cow.
Hold on, Ralph said, furrowing his brow.
Still got those hives.
Yeah, unfortunately, I think they're getting worse.
They don't itch, but they're painful to of the touch, so I don't touch him.
Goldie frowned as she folded Misty's letter and set it on the counter.
She'd been sure that ointment she gave him would work.
Her mind whirred. What could it be?
Cal, are you having any other symptoms?
Fever? Dry mouth? No, no, just the hives.
Well, Well, I have other ointments we could try, Goldie said uncertainly.
It was rare for her to be stumped.
Then, Ralph piped up, Hey, wait a minute.
Wait a minute. When did those hives develop?
It would have been about two weeks ago, I guess, Cal said, scratching his chin.
in. Two weeks ago, when you got Silvio, Goldie had to stifle a laugh.
Whatever was her grandson talking about?
Who? I'm sorry, Goldie said.
But who is Silvio? He's Cal's pigeon, Ralph said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.
He sits on my shoulder, Cal said.
Nuzzles Then nodded.
You've got a pigeon allergy, Cal.
Oh, wow. Oh, man. Well, you gotta help me.
I can't give up, Silvio.
It is humbling, to say the least, to realize how very wrong you've been about something so important.
As Goldie, with the help of her young apprentice, The apprentice set about to create a very special ointment for Cal's particular ailment.
She blushed a deep red beneath her fur because she had been very wrong.
Her dear grandson was shaping up to be a fine apprentice, and he most definitely had the touch. Okay, Tanya, what did you think of the story?
Mm -hmm Oh Hmm I'm just kidding Tanya is not saying anything at all just silently filtering seawater.
I hope you enjoyed this story.
I admit I do love when stories have happy endings.
Little Stories for Tiny People is written, performed, and produced by me, Rhea Pector.
My in -house tech director Peter K.
runs my website and puts my stories in the internet for all of you to enjoy.
Thank you to my Little Stories Premium subscribers.
If you would like to get more of the stories you love, access to Little Stories for Sleep, an exclusive bedtime podcast, and ad -free listening, join or gift a subscription by visiting littlestoriespremium .com.
Thank you to Ayelet for the super important reminder message at the beginning.
And thank you, as always, for listening in.
Thank you.
