Hi, Rebecca Sheer here.
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And now on with the story!
WBUR Podcasts Boston The Circle Around episode you're about to hear is one of two recorded live at Town Hall, Seattle, in Seattle, Washington on June 23, 2024.
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Think about a time you did a chore.
Maybe you cleaned your room or cleared the table or raked some leaves.
Chores may not always be our favorite thing, but we do them because they're good for us and for the people we love.
Today we'll meet two siblings who learn just how important and how unusual a certain chore can be.
I'm Rebecca Sheer and welcome to Circle Around Live at Town Hall, Seattle, in Seattle, Washington.
Today our story is called Granny Snowstorm.
It was inspired by tales from the Eastern European country of Ukraine.
Joining me on stage is a trio of talented actors, Zeki Hamid, Alyssa Keen, and Diana Apang, and providing musical accompaniment is the one and only Erickson Malonis.
So Circle Around everyone for Granny Snowstorm.
Olga and her brother Boris lived in a peaceful village on a farm they inherited from their parents.
Although the siblings had grown up together, the two couldn't have been more different.
Olga was sweet and friendly.
Greetings everyone. Are you excited about today's story?
Yes? Boris on the other hand.
Oh for crying out loud Olga.
Can you quit your yapping?
We'll never find out what happens in this story if you keep chit chatting.
Olga was a hard worker eager to jump into her chores.
The sun is up Boris, time to plow the fields and milk the cows.
Boris was a loafer. He preferred to laze the day away.
It's time for you to plow the fields and milk the cows.
I'm sleeping in. One chilly, drizzly day toward the end of autumn.
Olga took a break from chores to join Boris at the kitchen table.
It was long past noon, but he had just rolled out of bed to eat a late breakfast.
Boris, if you go outside today, you'd better bundle up.
It's so bitter and blustery.
Winter will be here any day now.
Winter? I hate winter. All that snow and cold.
The whole season's a nuisance if you ask me.
Well I think it's fun. I love it when Granny Snowstorm does her thing.
Granny Snowstorm? You mean the so-called spirit who uses her supernatural powers to bring winter?
I never believe the story's mom and dad used to tell us about her.
Well I did, and I still do.
Granny Snowstorm is amazing.
She lets us go sledding and flow snowballs, and did you know that the snow she brings is actually good for our crops?
The more it snows during wintertime, the better the harvest the following year.
Um, that makes zero sense.
Don't you remember what mom and dad taught us back in the day?
A blanket of snow is like a layer of mulch.
It protects the soil from harsh winds and freezing temperatures.
And it helps the ground absorb more nutrients.
Some people call it the poor man's fertilizer.
Look, sis, this is utterly fascinating, but I'm in the middle of absorbing my own nutrients right now.
Can you let me finish my breakfast in peace?
Fine, but would you do me a favor?
I thought we'd have some nice hot soup for dinner tonight.
If we put it on the stove now, it can simmer for a good long while.
Can you please go to the well and fetch a bucket of water?
Boris flash Olga a look as sharp as a kitchen cleaver.
You want me to go to the well and fetch a bucket of water?
No way. You're the one who does all the work around here.
Maybe because you never helped me out.
Well, maybe because I don't want to.
Well, maybe you should.
Well, maybe I'm sick of my sister ordering me about when I'm a full grown man.
And maybe I'm sick of my full grown brother acting like someone.
Okay, okay, Olga Boris, can we cool it please?
I know having a sibling can be challenging, but we need to keep the story moving.
Fine, but only if Olga is the one who fetches the water from the well.
Actually, hang on. That happens to be exactly the way it's written.
Yes. So Olga pulled on her coat and stepped out into the cold.
Rain drops slid down her neck and puddles splashed on her boots as she trudged across the farm yard.
Winter is definitely around the corner.
It's just a matter of time before these raindrops turn into snowflakes.
Standing beside the well, Olga lifted the rope to lower the bucket.
But once it was full of water, she tugged the rope to bring the bucket back up again.
But then something happened that she never, ever expected.
The rope snapped and the untethered bucket went plummeting down the well like a stone.
Oh, no! What's more, a sudden gust of wind came rushing across the farm yard.
The gale was so strong, so powerful it lifted Olga right off her feet and sent her tumbling down the well too.
Oh! Down, down, down, she fell, bracing herself for a big splash and even bigger crash.
And yet, when she reached the bottom, it was as if she had landed on a plush pillow.
What's more, the well was dry.
It was also very dark. Boris, can you hear me?
I fell in down the well and I kicked it out.
Olga's eyes darted this way and that as she looked for something, anything to help her out.
And as she squinted in the darkness, that's when she discovered two remarkable things.
First, her bucket seemed to have disappeared.
And second, there was a little door built right into the well's wall.
And when she opened it, what she saw on the other side made her jaw drop.
This is impossible. Impossible!
Where is it? What do you think Olga spied on the other side of the door?
We'll find out what it was after a quick break.
Before we return to our story, some exciting news.
Strictly Round Live is going coast to coast with upcoming events in New York and Alaska.
From September 13 to the 15th, Eric Shimalonis and I will be at the Alaska World Arts Festival in Homer with live performances of circle round stories and all ages storytelling workshop.
On December 8, we're recording two new episodes live at Symphony Space in New York City.
For more info and for tickets to our upcoming happenings, visit wbur.org-circle-round and click on events.
I'm Rebecca Sheer and welcome back to Circle Round Live at Town Hall, Seattle and Seattle, Washington.
Today our story is called Granny Snowstorm.
Before the break, it was a rainy chilly day in late autumn when Olga's bucket fell down the well and she fell after it.
At the bottom of the well, she found a little door leading to an astonishing sight.
It's a garden and it's in bloom.
Indeed. While the world above was cold and drizzly, the garden was warm and sunny.
A soft breeze ruffled Olga's hair as she wandered past beds of roses and pianies, lilacs and sunflowers.
Beyond the flowers were fruit trees.
Their elegant branches laden with ripe shiny apples, cherries and pairs.
That fruit looks delicious.
I'm tempted to have a bite, but I mustn't take what isn't mine.
As Olga marveled at the beauty around her, she suddenly heard a voice.
Who walks about my garden looking at my flowers?
Who walks about my garden looking at my fruit?
Olga spun around and saw a woman, an old woman dressed all in white, sparkling white gown, flowing white scarf, delicate white slippers.
Her hair was white too and cascaded down her back like a waterfall.
All at once, Olga knew exactly who she was.
Granny, snowstorm, it's you.
So you are real. As real as the bucket that came floating down into my world, just now, I assume it belongs to you.
It does belong to me. I dropped it down the well by accident, and next thing I knew I was here.
What is your name, dear?
Olga. Olga. I'd be happy to give your bucket back, but first, how would you like to work for me?
I could use the help. Olga smiled.
Honestly, I would love to work for you, Granny Snowstorm.
This place is amazing, and it would be an honor, but I should get back to my brother.
He's helpless on the farm without me.
Something tells me your brother can wait.
So please, follow me. I have a job for you.
Olga followed Granny Snowstorm into a beautiful white house.
They walked down a long hallway and into a bedroom.
A large mirror hung on the wall.
In the corner was a four-postured bed with a big feathery mattress.
Olga, this bed is mine. I'm no spring chicken, and these creepy old bones need something extra soft to sleep on.
So I want you to take the mattress off this bed and shake it.
Shake it with all your might until it's nice and fluffy.
I'll come fetch you in just a bit.
As Granny Snowstorm shuffled off down the hall, Olga reached for the mattress, but the moment she took hold of it.
This mattress, it's so cold, it's as cold as ice.
I thought it was made of feathers, but it's actually made of snow.
Olga's fingers were stinging with cold and turning blue, but knowing she had a job to do, she got to work.
She grabbed the mattress and shook it up and down side to side harder and harder and harder.
And as she did, do you know what happened?
It began to snow right there in the room.
A flurry of flakes went whirling and swirling about.
The harder I shake the mattress, the more snow there seems to be.
This is amazing. And look!
Olga's gaze fell upon the mirror on the wall.
I'm not seeing my reflection in that looking glass.
I'm seeing my village. Snowflakes are cascading like feathers out of the sky, blanketing every house, every street, every field, and every tree in a frosty layer of white.
And that's when Olga realized by shaking Granny Snowstorm's snowy mattress.
I've helped bring winter and look how happy the villagers are.
The children are laughing and packing snowballs and catching snowflakes on their tongues.
Families are sledding and making snow angels.
And the farmers, they seem extra pleased.
They know that a snowy winter means a successful harvest.
Ah, so you know about the poor man's fertilizer.
Olga swung round as Granny Snowstorm returned.
I know all about it. My parents taught me when I was little.
The harder the snow, the greener things grow.
They used to say. Ooh, I like that.
And I love the job you've done.
So come, Olga. Let's enjoy some dinner.
Then you can help me again tomorrow.
Weeks went by each and every day.
Olga went to Granny Snowstorm's bedroom and gave the mattress a good strong shake.
And each and every day she saw in the mirror how the winchery wonderland she created brought joy to the villagers.
Well, maybe not all the villagers.
One of the villagers in the looking glass were a constant frown.
His eyes dark and sullen beneath a furrowed brow.
Any guesses who it was? Any guesses?
That's right. Olga's brother Boris.
He looked even more miserable than usual.
So that very day, Olga pulled Granny Snowstorm aside.
You've been so wonderful to me, but I must go home to my brother.
Don't get me wrong. He can be a total pain in the neck.
But when my parents got sick, I promised them I'd stick by him no matter what.
I understand my dear and I shall miss you.
But you mustn't leave empty handed.
The old woman took Olga's hand and led her to the kitchen.
She opened a closet and there was Olga's bucket filled to the brim with gold coins.
Take these coins as your payment, Olga.
You worked hard and willingly and you deserve them.
Thank you, Granny Snowstorm.
I'll never forget your kindness.
But how do I get home? The same way you came.
Go back through the door in the well and up you'll go.
Granny Snowstorm was right.
The moment Olga stepped through the door, a billow of air blew her up, up, up.
Until she was back in her snow-covered farm yard.
It was well past noon when she ran into the farmhouse.
But guess who was still curled up in beds?
Neusing away. Boris. Boris!
Boris stretched and rubbed his eyes.
Olga, is that you? What have you been?
You abandoned me. It's a long story and I didn't mean to abandon you, but check out what I've got.
At the site of Olga's bucket, Boris's blurry eyes became alert.
Where did you get these coins?
Believe it or not, they came from Granny Snowstorm.
Come on. You know I never believe Mom and Dad's stories.
But I'm telling you, Boris.
Granny Snowstorm is real and she gave me these gold coins.
But what about four? Olga sat down on the bed and told Boris all about the fallen bucket, the magnificent garden, and Granny Snowstorm's proposal.
She said she'd give back my bucket if I shook her mattress.
So I did day after day. And after a while, she returned the bucket and it was full of gold.
But that's all Boris heard.
She jumped out of bed, bolted through the door and sprinted to the farm yard in his bare feet.
Oh man, it's freezing out here.
But who cares about the cold when I'm about to get cold hard cash?
Boris rummaged around the barn for a bucket, then hurled it over the edge of the well.
After that, he hurled himself over the edge of the well.
Cannonball! When he reached the bottom, he threw open the door and burst into the garden.
After stomping and trampling across the flower vets, he yanked an apple from a tree and took a bite.
Then he helped himself to appear.
He was about to seize a handful of cherries when all of a sudden, who walks about my garden trampling my flowers?
Who walks about my garden gobbling my fruit?
Boris glanced up and there was Granny Snowstorm.
Since you asked, my name is Boris.
I dropped my bucket and I want it back.
My sister Olga told me you'll return it if I shake your mattress.
A knowing smile crossed Granny Snowstorm's face.
Is that what she told you?
Then of course, you'll find the mattress in the bedroom at the end of the hall.
Granny Snowstorm gestured toward the house.
Without missing a beat, Boris raced through the front door and into the bedroom.
But when he grabbed the mattress, yikes!
Olga didn't tell me this mattress would be ice cold.
But I'd better shake it if I want my bucket of gold.
So Boris gave the mattress a half-hearted shake.
Then dropped it back on the bed.
He did the same thing the next day.
And the next day. And the next.
Until one day, he happened to notice something that he hadn't before.
The mirror on the wall. Whoa!
That must be the craziest mirror I've ever seen.
Instead of the reflection of the room, I'm seeing my village.
The snow is gone, but there's still frost in the air.
And the people are up to their ankles in water and mud.
I can hear them grumbling about the weather.
Especially the farmers.
Something about the snow melting too soon.
So the harvest will be poor.
Whatever, not my problem.
I'm about to get rich! Boris dashed out to the garden where Granny Snowstorm was pruning some fruit trees.
Granny Snowstorm, I'm done working for you.
I've come to receive my payment.
So you want your payment, do you?
Come with me! There was a glint in the old woman's eye as she handed Boris his bucket and guided him into a shed.
Though it was small, it was chuckful of treasures, piles of gold, heaps of silver, chests brimming with diamonds, sapphires and other sparkling gems.
You may help yourself to whatever you'd like, Boris.
Divided it can fit inside your bucket.
Boris scurried around the shed with delight, weighing the gold in his hands, trying on silver necklaces and diamond-encrusted crowns.
But he selected none of them.
Instead, he pointed to a glimmering, shimmering pearl in the corner.
It was as round and as large as a melon.
That pearl, that really big shiny one, that's what I want as my payment.
A fine choice, Boris, a most appropriate payment for the work you've done.
Boris didn't even say thank you.
The moment Granny plunked the pearl into his bucket, he high-tailed it out of the shed and into the well.
When he floated up to the surface, he found Olga working in the farm yard with mud up to her knee.
Olga, you must see the treasure I got from Granny's snowstorm.
He plunged his hand into the bucket and drew out the pearl, but to his dismay.
The gleaming sphere immediately began to melt.
What? I see water streamed through Boris's fingers and poured onto the ground as the pearl shrank smaller.
No! And smaller. It can't be!
Until it last. Oh! It was gone.
For the pearl, you see, wasn't actually a pearl.
It was, you guessed it, a snowball.
I'm happy to say the snowball wasn't the only thing that melted that day.
After a little time and a lot of self-reflection, Boris's heart melted to.
He became kinder, friendlier, and much more willing to help Olga with chores around the farm.
And as winter turned to spring, and spring turned to summer, and summer turned to fall.
The sibling thought about Granny's snowstorm, shaking her feather mattress to make a winter wonderland of the world.
Now it's your turn. What is winter like where you live?
Is it snowy and cold? Perhaps it's the opposite, and your part of the world is sunny and warm come winter time.
Whatever the case, draw a picture of yourself enjoying your favorite winter time activities.
Share your picture with someone you have fun with, and then if you'd like, share it with us.
Grown ups, e-mail a photo of your CircleRound fan and their artwork to CircleRound at WBUR.org.
We may feature it in a future edition of The Lion's Roar, the monthly newsletter for members of the CircleRound Club.
More on this super fun, super fun opportunity in just a bit.
First, this week's story, Granny Snowstorm, was adapted by me Rebecca Sheer.
It was edited by Dean Russell.
Eric Shimmelownes composed our original music and played it live on the piano.
You can learn more about this keyboard instrument and see a photo of Eric playing one on our website, WBUR.org slash CircleRound.
CircleRound's artist is Sabina Hahn.
Want to color while you listen?
Sabina has created a black and white coloring page for all 250 plus CircleRound stories, and you can print them out and color them in.
Grown ups visit our website, WBUR.org slash CircleRound.
It click on coloring pages.
Special thanks to our actors in Seattle, Zeki Hamid, Alyssa Keane, and Diana Apang, and a big CircleRound of thanks to the staff at Town Hall, Seattle.
And to WBUR's Andrea Omira, Tina Safard, and Deb Taylor.
Looking for more ways to CircleRound with us?
Join the CircleRound Club!
You can support your favorite public radio podcast and get all sorts of fun stuff, including, add free episodes, bonus bedtime stories, exclusive CircleRound swag, even a personalized birthday message from me.
Grown ups visit our website, WBUR.org slash CircleRound, and click CircleRound Club.
One more thing, Grown ups, if you enjoy CircleRound, please write us a five-star review on your favorite podcast app.
It'll help us keep CircleRound with you for years to come.
CircleRound is a production of WBUR, Boston's NPR News Station.
I'm Rebecca Sheer. Thanks for CircleRound with us.
Now that you've made it to the end of this CircleRound episode, we want to know what's your favorite CircleRound story.
Thousands of fans, just like you, have been telling us about the CircleRound stories they like best.
Take a listen. Maybe one of their favorites is one of yours, too.
My name is Ruth, and I'm so single, Paul.
And my favorite CircleRound story is Fiona and the Ferris.
I like the pot when the fairy fly around these circles.
I'm Alice, I'm from Pieda Bar, Ontario.
And I like to show the way they're blizzard.
I like the pot where you are.
This cut-chow hair is doing the cast-ocated.
My name is Alma and I live in all of your ten methods, two sets.
And I like the one of the sun and the horse of the different color.
I like the pot where I'll yarn up these suns, and when the horses come to you.
My name is Margot and I live in Washington, DC.
And my favorite CircleRound story is the bright yellow hat.
My favorite part is when the flowers talk to the girl.
Hi, my name is Gabriela and I live from California.
And my favorite CircleRound story is the long Christmas thread.
My favorite part is with the mouse friends all the week.
My name is Alan. I'm 167th.
And my favorite is the second round is the snowy.
My favorite part is when they get the shunoko back.
Thank you, Rebecca. Did someone mention a story you've missed?
Not to worry. Grownups, you can find all of our CircleRound stories.
Plus links to the CircleRound Club, picture books, coloring pages, and OSO much more on our website, www.wbuer.org slash CircleRound.
