Hello and welcome to Super Great Kids Stories.
Wise tales from storytellers around the world which will make you laugh and sometimes cry.
Recommended for ages 5 to 105.
I'm Kin and I love stories.
Today we have a story from France for Valentine's Day.
It's called The Twelve Dancing Princesses.
How are you, super great kids?
I hope you're tickety-boo.
Some of you in the southern part of the world are probably just settling back at school after your long summer holidays.
When I've just finished a holiday, I try to think of the next thing to look forward to as quickly as possible.
I've just planned a little adventure sailing on a former fishing boat in the Shetland Islands, which lie north of the Scottish mainland.
It's always good to have something to look forward to, even when it might feel a little different and even a tad scary.
This coming week it's Valentine's Day and Pancake Day, and it's the start of the Lunar New Year, which is celebrated in places like China and Vietnam Korea Tibet Taiwan, Mongolia and lots of other Asian communities.
So lots of good things coming up around the world this month.
Now, as I mentioned, this week's story is a fairy tale from France.
It was also told in Germany and originally collected by the Brothers Grimm.
France is the largest country in Western Europe.
It has the Atlantic Ocean to the west and the Pyrenees Mountains and Spain and the beautiful Mediterranean Sea in the south.
Its flag is red, white and blue stripes and its capital city is Paris.
And the food is simply delicious.
Most children here in Britain learn to speak some French in school.
Hurrah!
Now.
Just before we start our fairy tale, here's a little question for you.
While we have a quick word with the grown-ups,
We've been looking at fairy tales from around the world for the past few weeks now.
I wonder how many fairy tales you can think of.
So, while we have a quick word with the grown-ups, why don't you have a think about how many fairy tales you can name?
Here's a little clue to set you going.
Little red.
Ready?
Off you go.
Hello, super great kids.
I'm back.
Hands up if you got more than three countries.
Well done you.
And hands up if you got more than five.
Wow.
And maybe even some of you got more than ten.
Well, that is phantasmagorical.
You are fairy tale experts.
Did you remember Stick Woman from India?
Or Ashpet from the US?
Or Butterball from Norway?
Or Molly and the Leprechaun from Ireland?
Oh, there are so many.
And now it's time to hear our story, The Twelve Dancing Princesses.
So let's give a warm welcome to... Oh, it's me.
My mum used to tell me this story when I was little and now I'm sharing it with you.
Once upon a time or, as they say in France, il était une fois there was a king who had twelve beautiful daughters.
But I'm sorry to have to tell you that over time they became as proud as peacocks and with hearts as cold as snow.
They all slept together in one long bedroom with 12 cast iron beds all in a row.
Every night the doors to their room were closed, locked and bolted.
But every morning, their beautiful satin shoes were quite worn out.
When their father asked them what they did each night to get their shoes in such a state, they rolled their eyes and laughed.
Daddy, we slept soundly all night and we didn't hear a thing.
It must be magic.
The king was not happy.
He announced that whoever solved the mystery of the ruined shoes could marry one of his beautiful daughters and join his royal family in their castle on the hill.
Well, imagine!
All those young men who dreamed of becoming part of the royal family.
For days there was a line of hopeful men snaking down the long, twisting path to the castle on the hill.
They waited, watching by the door of the princess's room.
But by morning all those hopeful young men had vanished and no one could work out what had happened to them.
And every morning, by the foot of each iron bed, sat a pair of spoiled satin dancing shoes, quite worn out.
Now, in a village not far from the king's palace lived a young man called Jacques.
He was poor, but he worked very hard on the local farm and found that he had a gift for growing things.
Oats and beets and barley, grapes and pears and plums, whatever he planted seemed to bloom and grow.
Lots of girls in his village had their eye on him, but Jacques was not interested.
He kept his eyes on the beauty of the earth and the flowers and the trees.
He was waiting.
You see, Jacques was a dreamer, and one hot day, when he'd been working in the fields, he dozed off under a cherry tree and he'd had a beautiful dream.
He dreamed of a lady with hair which shone like the moon and a face as wrinkled as a winter apple, who told him to go to the castle on the hill where he would meet and marry a princess.
When Jacques told his friends about his dream, they shrieked with laughter.
You, a simple farm worker with earth-blackened nails and tangled hair, marry a princess.
Oh, Jacques, you are a silly goose.
But Jacques kept having that dream.
And one day he decided he had nothing to lose.
He set off up the long, twisting path to the castle on the hill with nothing but the clothes on his back and hope in his heart.
And he got a job in the royal gardens.
His first task was to make a bouquet of flowers every day for each of the twelve princesses.
Well, his flowers smelled like the fruits in paradise and were all the colours of a summer's day.
The princesses took the flowers without as much as a thank you or a smile.
All except, that is, for the youngest princess, Sylvie, who looked at him shyly.
Jacques' soft brown eyes looked eagerly into hers.
And that did it for Jacques.
He knew the story of the worn-out shoes and he knew that all the brave young men who'd tried to solve the mystery had disappeared.
But Jacques had looked into a princess's blue eyes and the hope in his heart was blooming.
And then Jacques had another dream.
Once again, the lady with silver hair appeared and in his dream she gave Jacques some cherry stones.
She told him to plant, water and care for them until they grew into trees bursting with blossom.
Wish for whatever you like and they will grant your wish, she told him.
Jacques thanked the lady and when he awoke he found he was clutching two cherry stones.
He planted them in pots of rich earth and in no time at all they grew as tall as his shoulders and started to bloom.
One day he stood up after watering them and said My lovely cherry trees I've planted, watered and cared for you.
And now, would you give me a cloak that I might become invisible?
Well, that night Jacques slept under the trees, and when he awoke, there next to him was a velvet cloak the colour of midnight, with all the stars from the night sky upon it.
That evening when the princesses went to their room, he put on his cape and followed them and hid under a bed.
He heard the youngest princess laughing and singing in a voice like liquid gold.
Sisters come without a sound, twirling, whirling all around.
Right foot first, left foot then, round about and back again.
And when Jacques dared to peep out from under the bed, he saw the sisters, dressed in shimmering silk, holding their bouquets of flowers from the royal garden and tapping their feet impatiently.
Come, sisters, cried the oldest princess.
Time to dance in the land of the midnight sun.
Then the oldest princess clapped her hands and a trapdoor under her bed creaked open.
The girls hurried down a winding staircase.
Jacques threw on his magic cloak and eagerly followed.
In his hurry to catch up, he trod on Princess Sylvie's dress.
She cried out, Help!
Someone is behind me, holding on to my dress!
Don't be daft, said her eldest sister.
Why are you always so anxious?
Your dress has probably just caught on a nail.
Once at the bottom of the staircase, they came out into a beautiful forest with leaves of silver which sparkled like summer rain.
Looking for evidence to prove he'd been to this enchanted place.
Quick-minded Jacques snapped off a twig.
Crack!
What was that? cried Sylvie.
Something is not right.
I'm sure of it.
Hush, you silly baby.
It was nothing, said her eldest sister, probably just an owl screeching.
Next, they came to a grove of trees with golden leaves that shone like the sun.
Quick-minded Jack snapped off a twig.
Crack!
What was that? cried Sylvie.
Something is not right.
I'm sure of it.
You daft dormouse, it was nothing, said her eldest sister.
Probably just a fox barking.
From there, they came upon another grove of trees with leaves which sparkled with diamonds.
Quick-minded Jack snapped off a twig.
Crack!
What was that? cried Sylvie.
Something is not right.
I'm sure of it.
Hush your bleating, you silly goat.
It's nothing, replied her sister.
Probably our prince is waiting for us down at the lake.
And soon they came to the edge of the lake, where twelve princes were indeed waiting in twelve little boats which bobbed up and down.
Jacques slipped into the last boat with Princess Sylvie.
This boat seems very heavy tonight, said the youngest prince as he strained to row to the brightly lit palace on the far side of the lake.
Music was drifting across the water as they reached the palace.
The sisters made their way up to the ballroom and Sylvie sang as she skipped up the staircase.
Sisters come without a sound, twirling, whirling all around.
Right foot first, left foot then, round about and back again.
The twelve sisters danced with the princes all night, twirling and swirling, until the soles of their shoes were quite worn through and they could dance no more.
An eerie midnight sun gleamed across the water and the young men rowed them back across the lake.
Jacques was a little envious of them, but if he'd only known the secret he would not have been so jealous.
The fact is that these princes were all the young men who had tried to learn the mystery of the worn-out shoes and win the hand of a princess.
But once they arrived at the ballroom, the princesses had offered them a goblet of magic drink, and now they were destined to dance every night, again and again and again, forgetting everything of their former lives except for the love of dancing.
The princesses left the young men at the lakeside, promising to return the next night, and Jacques hurried up the stairs before them, took off his cloak and returned to his work in the garden.
The following day, when putting together their bouquets, Jacques slipped a twig of sparkling diamonds into Sylvie's.
When he gave it to her, she looked and was shocked.
Where did this come from? she asked him.
From the land of the midnight sun, he replied.
Sylvie's eyes grew wide.
How do you know about that?
I followed you, replied Jack.
And are you going to tell our secret and demand to marry me, she asked, horrified.
Jack looked at her sadly.
No, he said.
Not unless you want me to, Sylvie.
Sylvie looked at the floor and said nothing.
But poor Jacques, he couldn't resist watching Sylvie dancing again, and so the next night he slipped on his invisibility cloak and followed her silently as she once again called her sisters down to the enchanted land.
Sisters come without a sound, twirling, whirling all around.
Right foot first, left foot then, round about and back again.
Once again, he followed them across the lake to the palace and watched them dancing merrily all night long.
On their way back he overheard Sylvie telling her older sister about Jacques and how he knew their secret.
What?
That dirty gardening boy, scoffed the eldest sister.
You can't marry him, Sylvie.
We must get rid of him.
Sylvie stayed quiet and her sister came up with a plan.
They would invite Jacques to the ball and, after dancing in the palace, they would offer him the magic drink and enchant him like they had all the other young men before him.
Now Jacques was listening to all this hidden under his cloak, and he decided he could stand it no longer.
He longed to join Sylvie and dance with her in person and could not remain simply an invisible onlooker.
So he decided that he would present himself to the king, attend the ball in person, dance with Sylvie and take the magic drink.
The following day he went back to his cherry tree and said My lovely cherry trees, I've planted and watered and cared for you.
Will you give me an outfit fit for a prince?
And in a twinkling, he was dressed in a fine outfit of green and blue velvet.
Then he went to the king and asked if he might be allowed to try and discover the secret of the worn-out shoes.
The king agreed and Jacques was given a meal and shown to the door of the girls' room.
When he heard Princess Sylvie singing her song and the creak of the trapdoor opening eh, He followed them down the stairs and across the lake to the palace.
He danced with each of the princesses in turn and finally, at long last, he was able to take Princess Sylvie in his arms and dance with her.
They twirled and swirled and pranced and danced up and down all night long.
And then it was time for them to eat and drink before returning to the castle.
The oldest sister poured some purple drink into a golden goblet and held it out to Jacques.
Gazing over at Princess Sylvie, he lifted the goblet to his lips.
Stop, shouted Sylvie.
Don't drink it.
I can't bear the thought of you stuck down here dancing forever and ever.
Jack put down the cup and ran across to Sylvie's side.
He looked into her eyes and a solitary silver tear of joy slid down his cheek as he gently took her hand.
Suddenly there was a loud cracking and all the princes cheered, for Jacques had broken the enchantment and they all returned to the castle, arm in arm with the twelve now smiling princesses.
Jacques went straight to the king and showed him the twigs of gold, silver and diamond and explained the secret of the worn-out shoes.
Well.
The old king was over the moon.
The mystery had been solved.
And he had his kind, delightful daughters back.
So, Sylvie and Jacques were married.
And there was much feasting and merriment.
And over time...
Jacques taught Sylvie all that he knew about the beauty of growing things.
And Sylvie taught Jacques all she knew about singing and dancing.
And as time passed, their lives filled with children who loved gardening, songs and dancing.
And I'm pleased to be able to tell you that they all lived happily ever after after, with a skip in their step and with hope in their hearts.
The end.
Oh, what a happy story.
I do like the image of all those worn-out dancing shoes at the bottom of the princesses' beds every morning.
If you were going to draw a picture of that story, I wonder what scene you'd draw.
Maybe the twelve princesses dancing until dawn in the land of the midnight sun?
Or would you draw Jacques dressed as a prince in blue and green velvet, tiptoeing behind the princesses?
I wonder if you could learn the song.
It's an old folk song from Germany and you know I do love a good song.
Send your pictures via our website to supergreatkidsstoriescom and we can share them with other story lovers on our website.
Picture gallery.
Or you could send them to our Facebook page facebookcom.
Forward slash supergreatkidsstoriescom.
And now it's time to fly around the world with StoryOwl to say hello and a big thank you to the owlets who've recently hopped into our nest and joined our storytelling club.
We start here in London to say hello to Owlets Julian, who is six, and Isaac, who is three.
They often listen on long car journeys up to Yorkshire to visit their grandma and grandad.
Julian's favourite story is The Beast of Bungie, and Isaac loves Troll Ale, especially the sound effects.
Ahem!
Staying in the UK, let's hop over to Buckingham, where Chloe listens every night at bedtime.
She loves the Anansi stories and the Super Great Kids Stories book that she got for Christmas.
A very long flight now all the way around the world to New Zealand to greet Athena, who is seven and lives in Wellington.
She recently became an owlet thanks to her grandparents in England.
She listens whenever she can, especially on the way to and from school.
Her current favourites are...
The Ghost of the Bloody Finger, Mama Draga and Anything by Jason Buck.
Her one-year-old brother Luke particularly enjoys The Wide-Mouthed Frog.
Across now to Sydney in Australia, where Zirsha, who's nine, and four-year-old Zuri love listening on the way to swimming every Saturday morning.
Zirsha's favourites are The Bellybutton Monster, the Baba Yaga stories and the Ghost of the Bloody Finger.
And Zuri's favourites are Ashpet and The Boy Who Drew Cats.
Let's head east all the way over the Pacific Ocean and keep going halfway across the US to Chicago to say hello to Maya, who is five and a half and has been listening since she was three.
She can't pick a favourite story, but she loves all the trickster ones, especially those with a Nancy.
Maya's mum, Raya, really likes the old woman up the hill.
Yes, that is a very good one.
I agree.
Very funny.
Up now to Alberta, Canada to greet Ramona, who's six and a half and lives in Edmonton.
Ramona's looking forward to hearing more how and why stories and a few scary but not too scary ones.
Her favourites include The Weeping Willow.
Ramona likes to share her stories with her little brother, Casper, who is two and a half.
Well, that's a very nice thing to do, Ramona.
Well done, you.
And let's stay hovering over Edmonton, because Jamie, who's six, and four-year-old Imoen also live there.
Jamie's favourite story is How snakes got their poison.
And Imoen's is the mermaid's gift.
And they both love the ghost of the bloody finger.
South again to the US.
And hello to Wolfie, that ancient creature living in San Antonio, Texas.
Wolfie listens every night at bedtime and has just celebrated his seventh birthday.
I hope you had a good happening day, Wolfie.
We're heading a long way northwest now to Washington State, to say to Ivy B, who is four and lives in Olympia
She especially likes The Hairy Toe and all of the Anansi stories.
And finally, let's go all the way east, across the US to Kentucky, to greet Owlet Lucy D, who is five and lives on a small farm outside Port Royal.
She loves to listen to stories, especially in the evenings while she makes beautiful art.
Her favourites include Anansia No.
5, The Wide-Mouthed Frog and The Boy and the Snow Wolf.
Just before Christmas she was in the car with her mum listening to the owl girls and the witch as they drove after dark when they saw a great horned owl.
What a magical experience.
Wow, that gave me goosebumps.
And...
Hello to some story fans now who came to our online show on Sunday.
Hello to Booker from Boise Idaho, and Becky, Liliana and Maya from Aberdeenshire in Scotland and Connie and Robin from Nottingham.
Thank you.
Thanks to all of you who came.
And our Picture of the Week goes to eight-year-old Violet from Oregon in the US, who drew a beautiful picture of the Cinderella-style story Ashpet, which is set in the Appalachian Mountains.
We love the way you've drawn Ashpet wearing a red dress and matching shoes, sitting at a picnic with the doctor's son.
It looks like a perfect setting in your picture, with the bees buzzing and the trees smiling down and the sun shining.
A lovely picture of a great story.
Thanks, Violet.
If you want to see that picture and others, go to our website supergreatkidsstoriescom and click on the tab Artwork and Photos.
Or go to our Facebook page, facebook.com forward slash supergreatkidstories.
And if you follow us on Instagram you can see our picture gallery there at supergreatkids underscore art.
That's it for this week.
Thanks to all outlets for your super great support.
It's because of you that we can keep finding new storytellers in different countries.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Depending on your level of subscription, you'll have access to at least 45 Super Great Scary Stories and over 60 bonus stories.
Plus, you'll get access to our Super Great Kids Stories Express with short introductions, no adverts, purely story.
Great for listening to stories back to back.
Visit our website for more details, supergreatkidsstories.com.
And finally...
We wanted to say a very big thank you to those of you who bought a copy of our book and to those of you who've reviewed it online.
Thank you very much.
Keep telling your stories and singing your songs.
Happy Valentine's Day and a happy Pancake Day and a happy start to the Lunar New Year if you're celebrating.
This podcast was produced at Wardour Studios in fabulous Fitzrovia in London.
