Hi everyone.
It's me kiddo.
I'm on summer break right now, but Mimi and I have one quick story to share before we leave for a trip to the beach.
Where are you going this summer?
Don't forget to listen to the other great shows on the PJ library presents network beyond the bookcase.
And have I got a story for you.
Snuggle up and let me read you a little something.
Grab a seat, a bite to eat and settle right in.
Hugs, snuggles, stories and more and so many sweet things in store.
Welcome to Afternoons with Mimi.
Today's episode features the story The Cats on Ben Yehuda Street, written by Anne Reddish-Stampler, illustrated by Francesca Carabelli and published by Carben read, with permission from Carben Publishing, a division of Lerner Publishing Group Inc.
Can you hand me the tape, please, Mimi?
There.
That's the last flyer.
We've hung up the lost cat signs on the whole block.
Oh, Miss Jen is going to be so glad we're helping her find Clarence.
She's been upset since he got out on Tuesday night.
What's wrong, Nishama Shalee?
Here, I'll join you.
It's a little harder to get down to sit on the curb when you're a Mimi.
Oh.
Can you keep rubbing my back?
Hmm.
Let's remember that there are a lot of other good helpers out there, like us.
Someone else might see Clarence and bring him home.
Remember when you got lost at the museum?
You were going down the escalator.
And I was afraid to step on.
I was still at the top, and you and Baby Z went down and disappeared.
Yes, but do you remember what happened?
The museum person asked if I was lost.
I said I was.
And she went down the escalator with me and helped me find you.
That's right.
The world is full of helpers.
For you and for Clarence.
We're out here helping him and Miss Jen.
That's two mitzvot in one afternoon.
Right.
Now hop on up, too.
Wait, wait.
How is that two mitzvot?
Well, there's the mitzvah of being kind to animals.
Tsar?
I'll, uh... That one is kind of hard for me to say in Hebrew.
But we are being kind to Clarence.
We're helping him come home.
Absolutely.
And then there's the mitzvah of helping our neighbors.
We're always looking out for each other to see how we can help.
Miss Jen will feel glad we put up so many lost cat signs.
I'm thirsty.
Well, I know the perfect solution.
How about a big glass of cider?
I have apple donuts, too.
Just right for a tired guy on a fall afternoon.
Yes, thank you, Mimi.
Hey, what book is that?
Oh, this?
Well...
It's about lost cats, too, and about helping.
Snuggle up and let me read you a little something.
The Cats on Ben Yehuda Street by Ann Reddish-Stampler, Illustrated by Francesca Carabelli.
Up and down Ben Yehuda Street Cats cats, cats.
Cats curling up on benches and stretching underneath.
Cats licking their paws on porches and climbing in leafy branches.
Free cats.
Fat cats.
Living on the sidewalk cats.
Cats with no collars.
For collars show that cats belong to somebody.
And street cats belong to no one but themselves.
Messy meowing, useless cats, muttered Mr Modiano as he unlocked the Tel Aviv Fish Palace each morning.
All day long, he shooed cats from his doorway.
But every night, when Mr Modiano climbed the stairs to his apartment, two cats dozed on a cushion by Mrs Spiegel's door.
Your cat brings more cats.
He pointed at Ketsie, Mrs Spiegel's little gray cat with a pink collar lying on a pillow next to Gatito, a fluffy white cat with no collar at all.
Then Mr Modiano would give Mrs Spiegel whatever fish he had left over, arranged on a platter, just so.
This fish is fit for a queen, not for cats, he warned.
Thank you, Mrs. Spiegel said.
And would you maybe like to come in for a little tea?
But Mr. Modiano always said no.
Low, low, low.
As soon as Mr Modiano closed his door, Mrs Spiegel put the fish into a bowl for the two cats to share.
But the apartment building rules said, just one cat.
So after dinner, only Ketsie could come inside.
Mrs Spiegel liked the way Ketsie helped her knit and the way Ketsie kept her company in the kitchen.
She liked it when Ketsie licked her face to wake her up in the morning.
She liked the way Ketsie was always there.
One night, Mr. Moriano brought salmon.
This is for you, not for your cat, he said, just barely stroking Gatito's back.
Thank you, Mrs. Spiegel said.
Would you like to maybe come in for a little tea?
Mr. Modiano always said no.
Lo, lo, lo.
The next night, Mr. Moriano brought a plate of pickled herring.
I almost tripped on this wild animal, he muttered, just barely tickling Gatito's tail.
A nice cat like this would keep you company, Mrs. Spiegel told him.
Company, Mr. Moriano frowned.
What does an old man need with messy meowing company?
Well, would you like to maybe come in for a little tea? she asked.
Mr. Moriano always said no.
Lo, lo, lo.
Aw, so cute.
He likes them.
Every morning, Mrs Spiegel walked to the beach with Ketzie to breathe in the salty smell of the Mediterranean Sea.
As soon as they neared the waves, Ketzie ran home.
She didn't like to be so close to the water.
When Ketzie got home from the beach, she and Gatito waited on the porch for Mrs. Spiegel to return.
Until one day, when Ketsie wasn't there.
Where is Ketsie? asked Mrs. Spiegel.
Gatito's nose was poking through the railing as if he was looking for Ketsie, too.
Meow!
Meow!
Mrs. Spiegel clumped downstairs.
She searched up and down Ben Yehuda Street, between the buildings and under the tables at the sidewalk cafe.
She asked everyone she met, Have you seen my catsy?
Everybody had seen plump cats and skinny cats, spotted cats and striped cats, but no little gray cat with a pink collar.
Everybody pointed to wrong-sized, wrong-colored, wrong-faced cats.
Mrs. Spiegel dragged her sad self home.
Mr. Modiano was leaning out the door of the fish palace, shooing away cats.
What's wrong, silly gatito, he said.
He isn't silly, Mrs. Spiegel said.
Ketsie is gone.
Cats, said Mr. Moriano.
Maybe she ran away.
Mrs. Spiegel burst into tears and clomped up to her apartment.
She tried to eat, but she wasn't hungry.
She tried to knit, but without Ketsie in her lap, she couldn't.
When Mr. Modiano came by, she did not invite him in for tea.
I know you have a low opinion of cats, she said, but my Ketsie would never run away.
If not for something terrible happening, my Ketsie would come back.
Mr. Modiano left quietly.
Then a most unusual thing happened.
Mrs. Spiegel heard the noisy putt-putting of a motor scooter in the alley.
There sat Mr. Modiano, perched on the back of his scooter.
Don't worry, he called up to Mrs. Spiegel.
Mrs. Spiegel muttered, as if she would worry about a cat-hating man like Mr. Modiano.
Mrs. Spiegel paced up and down in her apartment.
She thought about going to bed, but the idea of waking up without Ketsie there to lick her face made her cry.
Then, long after midnight, she heard putt-putting in the alley.
Outside on the porch, Gatito meowed.
And then there was more meowing.
Mrs. Spiegel ran down the stairs.
Mr Modiano held a little gray cat with a pink collar, her front leg sticking straight out in a stiff white cast.
My Ketsie, Mrs. Spiegel cried, burying her face in the soft gray fur.
Cats, said Mr. Modiano, gently cradling Ketsie as Gatito rubbed up against his leg.
I found her at the animal hospital.
She must have had a tussle with a car.
Silly cat.
But she's going to be fine.
The next morning, Mrs. Spiegel put Ketzie in a basket to walk to the sea.
We'll just get close enough to smell the salt, she said.
But when they got back, Gatito was not on the landing.
Not only that, the cushion was gone, too.
Oh, no, said Mrs. Spiegel.
Just then, Mr. Modiano opened his door.
Sitting neatly on the cushion in the middle of the living room just so was a fluffy white cat with a new blue collar.
Gatito.
Don't look so surprised, said Mr. Modiano.
You think I want to hunt all night for this one, too?
Mrs. Spiegel smiled.
Mr. Modiano, she said, would you like to maybe come in for a little tea?
Mr. Modiano said, lo, lo, lo. but then he opened his door even wider and he smiled too.
But maybe I could make a cup of tea for you, he said, and a saucer of milk for your cat.
The end.
That was a good book.
Mr. Modiano helped find Ketsie, just like we're helping find Clarence.
And he got a cat, too.
Ketito!
That's right.
The neighbors helped each other, and the cats came home safely.
Hang on one second, honey.
I've got to answer this.
Yes?
Jen?
Jen?
What?
He's home?
Oh, hooray!
Oh, what good news!
Oh, he's right here.
Oh, okay.
See you soon.
Clarence is home!
That was Miss Jen.
She said that a neighbor on the next block saw the signs.
She called Jen and told her she's seen Clarence in her garage.
They went over to check and scooped up the escape artist.
So he's home safe?
Absolutely!
And he's waiting at Miss Jen's for a pat from his favorite helper, you.
Should we go over and welcome him home?
Yes!
And let's bring some tuna, just like Mr. Modiano.
Tonight, I'd like to transport you to Night Falls, a mystical place where a luminescent waterfall glimmers in a starlit clearing amongst ancient pines.
You can join me here every Sunday and Tuesday with a podcast of bedtime stories, created to help you fall asleep easily.
There's truly nothing more relaxing than a story told by firelight.
So search Nightfall's Bedtime Stories on your favorite podcast player and gather around the fire for a soothing tale tonight.
