Speaker 1: Hello, and welcome back to Sleepy Stories. I'm your host, Lucy,
and my friends and I will be reading you a
sleepy bedtime story every week to relax you and to
help you to drift off into a RESTful sleep. From
time to time, we will also read you a relaxing,
peaceful meditation that will take you somewhere beautiful and calming.
Once we have read the stories, we will then read
them a second time, but this time they will be
read even slower. This will help you to relax even more.
Before we begin, I would like you to close your
eyes and breathe in and out nice and deeply. Take
a few seconds to inhale, and then hold your breath
for a few seconds more, and then release and breathe out.
Do this a few times if you need to. While
you listen to the music and you listen to my voice,
give yourself time to let your body relax and your
mind settle. It's important that we allow time for us
to feel safe, cozy, and completely at ease. And now
it's time for this week's story.
Speaker 2: Long ago, in a colorful village nestled beside the banks
of a great river in India, there lived a young
boy named Havevenda. The village was famous for many things.
Its mango orchards stretched towards the horizon. Its markets overflowed
with spices and bright fabrics. Its temples glowed golden in
the morning sun. But above all else, the village was
known for a legend, a legend about a magic contest.
Every fifty years, According to the stories, a mysterious traveler
would arrive carrying a silver chest. Inside the chest were
three magical prizes. The traveler would then announce a contest.
The winner could choose one prize, the second place winner
could choose another. The final prize would go to the
third place winner. For generations, nobody knew whether the story
was true. Some believed it was merely a tale told
by grandparents. Others insisted it had happened many times before.
Haavinda loved hearing the legend. Whenever the elders gathered beneath
the banyan tree in the village square, he would sit
nearby and listen. He imagined what prizes might be hidden
inside the silver chest. A jewel that granted endless wealth,
a carpet that could fly, a lamp containing a friendly spirit.
The possibilities seemed endless. One summer afternoon, when Haavenda was
fifteen years old, something extraordinary happened. A stranger appeared. He
arrived walking along the river road. His robes shimmered silver
in the sunlight. His beard was white, and beside him
rolled a silver chest. The entire village fell silent. The
old stories were true. Word spread quickly. People abandoned market stalls,
farmers left their fields, children raced through the streets. Within
an hour, the entire village had gathered in the square.
The stranger climbed onto the stone platform beneath the Banyan tree.
Then he opened the chest. Gasps filled the air. Inside
rested three objects, a golden feather, a crystal lotus, and
a small brass key. No one understood what they did,
yet all three glowed softly. The stranger smiled. Then he
announced the contest. The winner will not be the strongest.
The villagers looked puzzled. The winner will not be the richest.
More puzzled looks followed. The winner will not be the cleverest.
Now nobody understood all. The stranger closed the chest. The
winner shall be the person who brings me the greatest
treasure in the village excited. Murmurs spread through the crowd.
The greatest treasure, surely that meant something valuable. Immediately, the
villagers began making plans. Some rushed home to gather jewelry.
Others collected rare coins. One merchant prepared a chest filled
with precious gems. Hervinda felt excited too, Yet something about
the challenge troubled him. If the contest was magical, perhaps
the answer was not as simple as everyone believed. That evening,
as the sun set beyond the river, Hervenda sat beneath
a mango tree and thought carefully. What truly was the
greatest treasure in the village. The answer seemed obvious, and
yet the stranger had specifically said the winner would not
be the richest, strongest, or cleverest. Perhaps the contest was
testing something else entirely. The following morning, the competition began.
Villagers lined up before the silver chest. One by one,
they presented their treasures gold necklaces, rare pearls, silk garments,
ancient coins. The stranger thanked each person politely, but he
never appeared impressed. Hours passed still no winner was chosen.
The crowd grew restless, then Just before sunset, have Vin
stepped forward, and in his hands was something nobody expected.
He carried no gold, no jewels, no silver, no treasure chest,
only a small clay pot. The villagers began whispering, some laughed,
others shook their heads. Surely Havinda had misunderstood the challenge.
Yet the stranger smiled the moment he saw the pot,
and for the first time all day, his eyes sparkled
with interest. The contest, it seemed, was about to take
a very unexpected turn. He villagers stared as Havenda approached
the silver chest. The small clay pot looked very ordinary.
Its surface was worn, its shape was simple. Compared to
the piles of gold and jewels that surrounded it. It
seemed completely worthless. Several people laughed quietly. One merchant shook
his head. Another muttered that the contest was already over.
But the mysterious traveler continued smiling. Hevinda, he said, tell
me about your treasure. The boy carefully held up the
clay pot. It contains water. The crowd burst into laughter.
Water After an entire day of rare jewels, gold coins,
and precious gems, the boy had brought water. Yet Haavender
remained calm. The traveler nodded for him to continue. This
water comes from the village. Well, The boy looked around
at the people gathered beneath the banyan tree. Every family
uses it. He pointed towards the nearby fields. It waters
our crops. He pointed towards the houses. It helps us
cook our food. He pointed towards the children. It helps
us grow. The crowd slowly became quieter. Without gold, we
can still live, the boy continued. Without jewels, we can
still live. Without silk, we can still live. He lifted
the clay pots slightly higher. But without water, none of
us could survive. Silence settled across the square. The traveler's
smile widened. For a moment, nobody spoke. Even the merchants,
who had brought their finest treasures looked thoughtful at life, asked.
The traveler stood, the winner has been found. A murmur
passed through the crowd. The traveler walked towards Haavenda. You
understood the true purpose of the contest. He turned towards
the villagers. Many people spend their lives searching for valuable things.
His voice carried across the square. But wisdom comes from
recognizing what is truly valuable. The crowd listened carefully. The
greatest treasures are often the ones we see every day.
The traveler lifted the clay, pot, water, friendship, family, kindness.
These things are worth far more than gold. The villagers nodded.
Many lowered their eyes as they consider his words. The
traveler then opened the silver chest once more, Golden light
spilled from within. The three magical prizes glowed brighter than before,
the golden feather, the crystal lotus, the brass key. As
the winner, Haavinder was invited to choose first. The boys
studied the objects carefully. The feather shimmered like sunlight. The
lotus sparkled like crystal ice. The key gleamed softly. What
do they do, he asked? The traveler smiled. The feather
grants success, the lotus grants wisdom. The key unlocks hidden opportunities.
The villagers gasped. All three seemed wonderful at Haavender surprised
everyone once again. He thought quietly for several moments. Then
he pointed to the crystal lotus. I choose wisdom. The
traveler nodded approvingly. A wise choice, the crystal lotus floated
gently into Havender's hands. At once, it dissolved into countless
points of silver light. The lights swirled around him like fireflies,
then they vanished. The boy felt no different, yet somehow
he knew he would never look at the world in
quite the same way again. The second prize went to
a farmer who had brought a basket of seeds. The
traveler explained that the seeds represented the future. The farmer
chose the brass key. The final prize went to an
elderly teacher who had spent her life helping village children
learn to read. She received the golden feather. As evening approached,
the traveler closed the silver chest. The villagers gathered around him.
They wished to ask questions, where had he come from,
how had the magic worked? Would he ever return? But
when they looked around, they realized something astonishing. The traveler
had vanished. Only the silver chest remained, Yet moments later,
the chest itself dissolved into sparkling light. Then it too disappeared.
For many years, people spoke about the magic contest. Children
who had witnessed it eventually grew old. Their grandchildren listened
to the story beneath the same banyan tree. And whenever
someone asked what the greatest treasure in the village truly was,
the answer was always the same. Not gold, not jewels,
not wealth, but the simple gifts that make life possible.
Fresh water, good friends, loving families, and grateful hearts. As
for Hervinda, he became one of the wisest men in
the region. People traveled great distances seeking his advice. Yet
whenever they asked how he had gained such wisdom, he
would simply smile. Then he would tell them about a
clay pot filled with water, and the day he learned
that the most valuable treasures are often the ones hiding
in plain sight. For those who learned to appreciate simple
blessings discover a kind of wealth that can never be stolen, lost,
or spent, and that perhaps is the greatest magic of all.
Long ago, in a colorful village, nestled beside the banks
of a great river in India, there lived a young
boy named Havevenda. The village was famous for many things.
Its mango orchards stretched towards the horizon, its markets overflowed
with spices and bright fabrics. Its temples glowed golden in
the morning sun. But above all else, the village was
known for a legend about a magic contest. Every fifty years.
According to the stories, a mysterious traveler would arrive carrying
a silver chest. Inside the chest were three magical prizes.
The traveler would then announce a contest. The winner could
choose one prize, the second place winner could choose another.
The final prize would go to the third place winner.
For generations, nobody knew whether the story was true. Some
believed it was merely a tale told by grandparents. Others
insisted it had happened many times before. Haavinda loved hearing
the legend. Whenever the elders gathered beneath the banyan tree
in the village square, he would sit nearby and listen.
He imagined what prizes might be hidden inside the silver chest.
A jewel that granted endless wealth, a carpet that could fly,
a lamp containing a friendly spirit. The possibilities seemed endless.
One summer afternoon, when Haavenda was fifteen years old, something
extraordinary happened. A stranger appeared. He arrived walking along the
river road. His robes shimmered silver in the sunlight. His
beard was white, and beside him rolled a silver chest.
The entire village fell silent. The old stories were true.
Word spread quickly. People abandoned market stalls, farmers left their fields.
Children raced through the streets. Within an hour, the entire
village had gathered in the square. The stranger climbed onto
the stone platform beneath the banyan tree. Then he opened
the chest. Gasps filled the air. Inside rested three objects,
a golden feather, a crystal lotus, and a small brass key.
No one understood what they did, yet all three glowed softly.
The stranger smiled. Then he announced the contest. The winner
will not be the strongest. The villagers looked puzzled. The
winner will not be the richest. More puzzled looks followed.
The winner will not be the cleverest. Now nobody understood
at all. The stranger closed the chest. The winner shall
be the the person who brings me the greatest treasure
in the village. Excited murmurs spread through the crowd. The
greatest treasure, surely that meant something valuable. Immediately the villagers
began making plans. Some rushed home to gather jewelry. Others
collected rare coins. One merchant prepared a chest filled with
precious gems. Hervinda felt excited too, Yet something about the
challenge troubled him. If the contest was magical, perhaps the
answer was not as simple as everyone believed. That evening,
as the sun set beyond the river, Hervenda sat beneath
a mango tree and thought carefully, what truly was the
greatest treasure in the village. The answer seemed obvious, and
yet the stranger had specifically said the winner would not
be the richest, strongest, or cleverest. Perhaps the contest was
testing something else entirely. The following morning, the competition began.
Villagers lined up before the silver chest. One by one,
they presented their treasures, gold necklaces, rare pearls, silk garments,
ancient coins. The stranger thanked each person politely, but he
never appeared impressed. Hours passed still no winner was chosen.
The crowd grew restless. Then, just before sunset, Hervinda stepped forward,
and in his hands was something nobody expected. He carried
no gold, no jewels, no silver, no treasure chest, only
a small clay pot. The villagers began whispering. Some laughed,
others shook their heads. Surely Havinda had misunderstood the challenge,
Yet the stranger smiled the moment he saw the pot,
and for the first time all day, his eyes sparkled
with interest. The contest, it seemed, was about to take
a very unexpected turn. He villagers stared as Havenda approached
the silver chest. The small clay pot looked very ordinary.
Its surface was worn, its shape was simple. Compared to
the piles of gold and jewels that surrounded it, it
seemed completely worseless. Several people laughed quietly. One merchant shook
his head. Another muttered that the contest was already over,
But the mysterious traveler continued smiling. Heavinda, he said, tell
me about your treasure. The boy carefully held up the
clay pot. It contains water. The crowd burst into laughter. Water.
After an entire day of rare jewels, gold coins, and
precious gems, the boy had brought water, Yet Haavender remained calm.
The traveler nodded for him to continue. This water comes
from the village well. The boy looked around at the
people gathered beneath the banyan tree. Every family uses it.
He pointed towards the nearby fields. It waters our crops,
He pointed towards the houses. It helps us cook our food.
He pointed towards the children. It helps us grow. The
crowd slowly became quieter. Without gold, we can still live,
the boy continued. Without jewels, we can still live. Without silk,
we can still live. He lifted the clay pots slightly higher.
But without water, none of us could survive. Silence settled
across the square. The traveler's smile widened. For a moment,
nobody spoke. Even the merchants, who had brought their finest
treasures looked thoughtful. At last, the traveler stood, the winner
has been found. A murmur passed through the crowd. The
traveler walked towards Haavender. You understood the true purpose of
the contest. He turned towards the villagers. Many people spend
their lives searching for valuable things, his voice carried across
the square. But wisdom comes from recognizing what is truly valuable.
The crowd listened carefully. The greatest treasures are often the
ones we see every day. The traveler lifted the clay
pot water, friendship, family, kindness. These things are worth far
more than gold. The villagers nodded. Many lowered their eyes
as they considered his words. The traveler then opened the
silver chest once more, Golden light spilled from within. The
three magical prizes glowed brighter than before, the golden feather,
the crystal lotus, the brass key. As the winner, Havinder
was invited to choose first. The boys studied the objects carefully.
The feather shimmered like sunlight. The lotus sparkled like crystal ice.
The key gleamed softly. What do they do, he asked.
The traveler smiled. The feather grant's success, the lotus grants wisdom.
The key unlocks hidden opportunities. The villagers gasped. All three
seemed wonderful, yet Havinder surprised everyone once again. He thought
quiet for several moments. Then he pointed to the crystal lotus.
I choose wisdom. The traveler nodded, approvingly. A wise choice.
The crystal lotus floated gently into Haavender's hands. At once,
it dissolved into countless points of silver light. The lights
swirled around him like fireflies, then they vanished. The boy
felt no different, yet somehow he knew he would never
look at the world in quite the same way again.
The second prize went to a farmer who had brought
a basket of seeds. The traveler explained that the seeds
represented the future. The farmer chose the brass key. The
final prize went to an elderly teacher who had spent
her life helping village children learned to read. She received
the golden feather. As evening approached, the traveler closed the
silver chest. The villagers gathered around him. They wished to
ask questions, where had he come from, how had the
magic worked? Would he ever return? But when they looked around,
they realized something astonishing. The traveler had vanished. Only the
silver chest remained, Yet moments later, the chest itself dissolved
into sparkling light. Then it too disappeared. For many years,
people spoke about the magic contest. Children who had witnessed
it eventually grew old. Their grandchildren listened to the story
beneath the same banyan tree, and whenever someone asked what
the greatest treasure in the village truly was, the answer
was always the same, Not gold, not jewels, not wealth,
but the simple gifts that make life possible. Fresh water,
good friends, loving families, and grateful hearts. As for Hevinda,
he became one of the wisest men in the region.
People traveled great distances seeking his advice. Yet whenever they
asked how he had gained such wisdom, he would simply smile.
Then he would tell them about a clay pot filled
with water, and the day he learned that the most
valuable treasures are often the ones hiding in plain sight.
For those who learned to appreciate simple blessings discover a
kind of wealth that can never be stolen, lost, or spent,
and that perhaps is the greatest magic of all. Long ago,
in a colorful village nestled beside the banks of a
great river in India, there lived a young boy named Havevenda.
The village was famous for many things. Its mango orchards
stretched towards the horizon, its markets overflowed with spices and
bright fabrics. Its temples glowed golden in the morning sun.
Of all else, the village was known for a legend,
a legend about a magic contest every fifty years. According
to the stories, a mysterious traveler would arrive carrying a
silver chest. Inside the chest were three magical prizes. The
traveler would then announce a contest. The winner could choose
one prize, the second place winner could choose another. The
final prize would go to the third place winner. For generations,
nobody knew whether the story was true. Some believed it
was merely a tale told by grandparents. Others insisted it
had happened many times before. Haavinda loved hearing the legend.
Whenever the elders gathered beneath the banyan tree in the
village square, he would sit near by and listen. He
imagined what prizes might be hidden inside the silver chest.
A jewel that granted endless wealth, a carpet that could fly,
a lamp containing a friendly spirit. The possibilities seemed endless.
One summer afternoon, when Haavenda was fifteen years old, something
extraordinary happened. A stranger appeared. He arrived walking along the
river road. His robes shimmered silver in the sunlight, his
beard was white, and beside him rolled a silver chest.
The entire village fell silent. The old stories were true.
Word spread quickly. People abandoned market stalls, farmers left their fields,
children raced through the street. Within an hour, the entire
village had gathered in the square. The stranger climbed onto
the stone platform beneath the banyan tree. Then he opened
the chest. Gasps filled the air. Inside rested three objects,
a golden feather, a crystal lotus, and a small brass key.
No one understood what they did, yet all three glowed softly.
The stranger smiled. Then he announced the contest. The winner
will not be the strongest. The villagers looked puzzled. The
winner will not be the richest. More puzzled looks followed.
The winner will not be the cleverest. Now nobody understood
at all. The stranger closed the chest. The winner shall
be the person who brings me the greatest treasure in
the village. Excited murmurs spread through the crowd. The greatest treasure.
Surely that meant something valuable. Immediately, the villagers began making plans.
Some rushed home to gather jewelry. Others collected rare coins.
One merchant prepared a chest filled with precious gems. Hervenda
felt excited too, Yet something about the challenge troubled him.
If the contest was magical, perhaps the answer was not
as simple as everyone believed. That evening, as the sun
set beyond the river, Hervenda sat beneath a mango tree
and thought carefully, what truly was the greatatest treasure in
the village. The answer seemed obvious, and yet the stranger
had specifically said the winner would not be the richest, strongest,
or cleverest. Perhaps the contest was testing something else entirely.
The following morning, the competition began. Villagers lined up before
the silver chest. One by one, they presented their treasures
gold necklaces, rare pearls, silk garments, ancient coins. The stranger
thanked each person politely, but he never appeared impressed. Hours
passed still no winner was chosen. The crowd grew restless. Then,
just before sunset, Hervinda stepped forward and in his hands
was something nobody expected. He carried no gold, no jewels,
no silver, no treasure chest, only a small clay pot.
The villagers began whispering, some laughed, others shook their heads.
Surely Havinda had misunderstood the challenge. Yet the stranger smiled
the moment he saw the pot and for the first
time all day, his eyes sparkled with interest. The contest,
it seemed, was about to take a very unexpected turn.
He villagers stared as Havenda approached the silver chest. The
small clay pot looked very ordinary. Its surface was worn,
its shape was simple. Compared to the piles of gold
and jewels that surrounded it. It seemed completely worthless. Several
people laughed quietly. One merchant shook his head. Another muttered
that the contest was already over, but the mysterious traveler
continued smiling. Heavinda, he said, tell me about your treasure.
The boy carefully held up the clay pot. It contains water.
The crowd burst into laughter. Water after an entire day
of rare jewels, gold coins, and precious gems, the boy
had brought water. Yet Tavender remained calm. The traveler nodded
for him to continue. This water comes from the village. Well.
The boy looked around at the people gathered beneath the
banyan tree. Every family uses it, he pointed, towards the
nearby fields. It waters our crops, he pointed towards the houses.
It helps us cook our food. He pointed towards the children.
It helps us grow. The crowd slowly became quieter. Without gold,
we can still live, the boy continued. Without jewels, we
can still live. Without silk, we can still live. He
lifted the clay pots slightly higher. But without water, none
of us could survive. Silence settled across the square. The
traveler's smile widened. For a moment, nobody spoke. Even the merchants,
who had brought their finest treasures looked thoughtful. At last,
the traveler stood, the winner has been found. A murmur
passed through the crowd. The traveler walked towards Haavender. You
understood the true purpose of the contest. He turned towards
the villagers. Many people spend their lives searching for valuable things,
his voice carried across the square. But wisdom comes from
recognizing what is truly valuable. The crowd listened carefully. The
greatest treasures are often the ones we see every day.
The traveler lifted the clay pot, water, friendship, family, kindness.
These things are worth far more than gold. The villagers nodded.
Many lowered their eyes as they considered his work. Birds.
The traveler then opened the silver chest. Once more, golden
light spilled from within. The three magical prizes glowed brighter
than before, the golden feather, the crystal lotus, the brass key.
As the winner, Haavender was invited to choose first. The
boys studied the objects carefully. The feather shimmered like sunlight.
The lotus sparkled like crystal ice. The key gleamed softly.
What do they do, he asked? The traveler smiled. The
feather grants success, the lotus grants wisdom. The key unlocks
hidden opportunities. The villagers gasped. All three seemed wonderful, yet,
having surprised everyone once again, he thought quietly for several moments.
Then he pointed to the crystal lotus. I choose wisdom.
The traveler nodded approvingly. A wise choice. The crystal lotus
floated gently into Haavender's hands. At once, it dissolved into
countless points of silver light. The lights swirled around him
like fireflies, then they vanished. The boy felt no different,
yet somehow he knew he would never look at the
world in quite the same way again. The second prize
went to a farmer who had brought a basket of seeds.
The traveler explained that the seeds represented the future. The
farmer chose the brass key. The final prize went to
an elderly teacher who had spent her life helping village
children learn to read. She received the golden feather. As
evening approached, the traveler closed the silver chest. The villagers
gathered around him. They wished to ask questions where had
he come from, how had the magic worked? Would he
ever return? But when they looked around, they realized something astonishing.
The traveler had vanished. Only the silver chest remained, Yet
moments later, the chest itself dissolved into sparkling light. Then
it too disappeared. For many years, people spoke about the
magic contest. Children who had witnessed it eventually grew old.
Their grandchildren listened to the story beneath the same banyan tree,
and whenever someone asked what the greatest treasure in the
village truly was, the answer was always the same. Not gold,
not jewels, not wealth, but the simple gifts that make
life possible. Fresh water, good friends, loving families, and grateful hearts.
As for Havinda, he became one of the wisest men
in the region, people traveled great distances seeking his advice,
Yet whenever they asked how he had gained such wisdom,
he would simply smile. Then he would tell them about
a clay pot filled with water, and the day he
learned that the most valuable treasures are often the ones
hiding in place. Insight for those who learn to appreciate
simple blessings discover a kind of wealth that can never
be stolen, lost, or spent, and that perhaps is the
greatest magic of all.
Speaker 1: And it.
Speaker 3: I think.
Speaker 1: B it
Speaker 3: Is u