My Bedtime Anytime Storybook - ebook

CONTENTS

A Note to Parents and Teachers

Joyful Noise for Girls and Boys

Puddles and His Problem

Stripes and Spots

The Big Red Ball

The Bear Who Squeaked

The Best Butterfly Catcher in the World

Who Will Help the Kitty?

Surprise!

The Biggest Red Balloon

A Bag of Clothes

The Magic Lamp

Bru ‘s Bad Day

Apples for Sale

Bru’s Barrels

Ring Those Bells!

A Bicycle for Us All

McWhiskers’s Pet Cat

Why Am I Blue?

The Flying Bear

Too Much Fun Food

Being Good or Doing Good?

The Old Hat

The Honey Tree

Someone’s in My House

The Hollow Log

The Other Guy in the Mirror

Lost in the ForestDozens of Honey Pots

Can You Crow Like Me?

A New Someone

Lazy Syd Squirrel

Accidents Do Happen

Ten Times Better

Who Can Build This Bridge?

You Can’t Catch My Ball

Six Doors

Friends Are Friendly

The Old Hat

Big, Ugly, Scary Footprints

A Box for Fox

Surprise Gifts

A Green Apple Tummyache

Gum

King for a Day

A Night in the Woods

Sweet Songs

A Moonlight Picnic

A Pail of Purple Paint

The Great Race

Who Stole Bru’s Gold Watch?

Joyful Noise

Joyful Noise

Index of LessonsA NOTE TO PARENTS ND TEACHERS

Welcome to a friendly little community that can exist only in your imagination, and in the imagination of your child. Here lives an unlikely little band of friends who come from every-where, yet nowhere.

McWhiskers is a talking, larger than-life-size mouse-a wise, insightful, fun-filled little fellow who keeps his larger friends on track

Tux is a penguin—away-from penguinland.

KaWally is a koala from lands down under some-where—how far down under, and under where, nobody knows.

PJ looks like a zebra, but unlike the ordinary zebras you know, he walks on two legs, not four, and like his friends, talks and thinks unzebralike thoughts.

Bru is a moody, grouchy-at-times but-lovable-at-all-times

bruin bear from somewhere north of nowhere. You can’t help loving him, even though he sometimes tests the patience of his friends. Bru isn’t bad. He is, well, almost human!

And then there is the world’s only blue hippo—big, lovable, cuddly (if you could get your arms around him) Puddles. He is a hippo like no other hippo. Although you and I aren’t blue hippos, we relate to so many of the things Puddles says and thinks which says you and I are either more like blue hippos that we want to admit, or Puddles is more like people than he wants to admit. We will leave it to your imagination to decide which is true.

In this special imaginary land the creatures are con-scious of their Creator, and oc-casionally burst into praise to Him. They are also conscious

of those values that are woven into the fabric of the best of hu-man character. If you encounter joy or wonder or imagination or delight, please do not be surprised. If you want to linger with these special friends and delight in their experiences, do not be surprised. If your child wants to walk In this special imaginary land the creatures are conscious of their Creator, and occasionally burst into praise to Him. They are also conscious of those values that are woven into the fabric of the best of human character. If you encounter joy or wonder or

imagination or delight, please do not be surprised. If you want to linger with these spe-cial friends and delight in their experiences, do not be sur-prised. If your child wants to walk back through the pages of this book again and again and make Bru, Puddles, McWhis-kers, Tux, KaWally and PJ his or her own special friends, do not be surprised.

So walk with us into that £unfilled, yet highly education-al land with its unlikely little community of friends who call themselves JOYFUL TM NOISE. One trip through this delightful land will never be enough.

—V. Gilbert Beers

CONTENTSuddles had a problem. It wasn’t really a big prob-lem. It certainly would not be a big problem for you. But Puddles thought it was a big problem. So if he thought it was a big problem, it really was a big problem to him.

“What shall I do?” Pud-dles asked himself. But of course Puddles couldn’t answer his own question. If he could, he wouldn’t have asked it in the first place, would he?

“Whatever shall I do?” Puddles asked again, not once, but many times.

Puddles decided that he

would ask some friends what to do. Perhaps they would know.

Puddles ran off to find his friend Bru. A big bruin bear ought to know what to do about anything. If the biggest bear he had ever met ( of course he hadn’t met any other big bears) couldn’t answer his ques-tion, who could?

Bru was sitting under a big tree, practicing on his horn. He was having so much fun that he didn’t even see Puddles. So Pud-dles stood politely, waiting for Bru to see him.

But Bru kept on prac-

CONTENTSticing on his horn. At last Puddles grew tired of wait-ing. He reached down and pulled Bru’s horn right out of his hands.

“What did you do that for?” Bru asked angrily. ‘’You interrupted my im-portant work!”

‘’Sorry, Bru,’’ said Pud-dles. “But I have a prob-lem. I thought you might have an answer.’’

“Of course I have an an-swer,” said Bru. “I’m the smartest bruin bear around here.” Puddles had to think about that. He really didn’t think there were any other bruin bears around there. But why argue with a friend, especially if you want that friend to help you.

“Well, what is your problem?” Bru asked im-patiently. ‘’Or do you want me to answer your ques-

tion before you ask it?”

Puddles didn’t know how to answer that, so he told Bru his problem.

“Someone did some-thing bad to a good friend,’’ said Puddles. “So what should the good friend do to the person who did something bad?”

“Huh?” Bru asked. “Say that again.’’

Puddles said it again. He even said it four times before Bru knew what he said.

Bru jumped up. He grabbed his horn from Puddles. He gave a pow-erful blast on it. The pow-erful blast almost knocked Puddles from his feet. “I’d blast that guy!” said Bru. “I’d blast him so hard he would never do something bad to me again. Do you hear me? Blast him!”

Puddles didn’t think that

was the answer he wanted. So he politely thanked Bru and hurried off to find an-other friend.

Bru sat down and be-gan practicing on his horn again.

Before long Puddles found PJ, taking an after-noon nap.

Puddles stood for a long time, waiting for PJ to wake up. But he didn’t. Pud-dles sup-posed ze-bras don’t wake up as easily as oth-er ani-mals. So Puddles decided to wake him.

“HEL-L-L-0-0-0!” Puddles shout-

CONTENTSOf course Puddles didn’t want to get into a fight with PJ. He wanted PJ to help him.

“I’m sorry, PJ,” said Pud-dles. “I’m really very sorry

to wake you. But I need your help.”

“Anything for you, old buddy,” said PJ. “What can I do for you?”

“Help me know what to

ed as loud as he could right into PJ’s left ear.

PJ jumped up. Puddles thought he almost flew up. PJ looked round angrily, as if he was ready to fight.

“Where is he?” he shouted. “Where did he go?”

“Who?” asked Puddles.

“Whoever woke me,” said PJ. “I’ll beat him up.”

do about my problem,” he said.

Then Puddles asked PJ the same question he had asked Bru.

“Someone did some-thing bad to a good friend,” said Puddles. “So what should the good friend do to the person who did something bad?”

“What’s the problem?” asked PJ. “People are al-ways doing bad things to me. I’d tell the good friend to forget it. It’s just tough luck You win a few and you lose a few, right? No problem. That’s just the way life is.”

But that didn’t seem like the right answer to Pud-dles either. So he thanked PJ and went off to look for another friend. When he looked back, PJ was al-ready taking his nap again.

Before long Puddles

found his friend McWhis-kers struggling to carry corn in a wheelbarrow.

“Afternoon, Puddles,” said McWhiskers. “What can I do for you?” McWhis-kers stopped working and shook hands with Puddles.

“You can help me with my problem,” said Pud-dles.

“Glad to help you, old friend,” said McWhiskers. “Tell me all about it.”

So Puddles told McWhiskers what he had asked his other two friends.

“Someone did some-thing bad to a good friend,” said Puddles. “So what should the good friend do to the person who did something bad?”

“That’s easy,” said Mc- Whiskers. “He should for-give his good friend.”

Puddles. “Is it that easy?”

CONTENTS“Of course,” said McWhiskers. “But of course the other guy should ask him to do it.”

“Whew!” said Puddles. “It’s really that easy? Then I’m asking you to forgive me. I told some friends you were a little squirt. But I don’t think that was very nice for me to do that. So will you forgive me?”

McWhiskers hated to be called a little squirt. If you can think of the nastiest, meanest thing that some-one could call you, you know how you would feel if someone called you that name. That’s how McWhis-kers felt about being called a little squirt.

“Little squirt, huh?” said McWhiskers. “You know how I hate for people to call me that, don’t you?”

“I do,” said Puddles.

“And I’m really very sorry. I’m even very, very sor-ry. But you also said you should forgive me if I ask you.”

“Then I guess I had better forgive you,” said McWhiskers. “And I do. But I’m sure you’ll nev-er call me that again, will you?”

“Never, little-,” Puddles caught himself before he said little squirt again. “Never, old friend.”

Then Puddles took off the whole afternoon to help his old friend McWhiskers move his corn.

CONTENTShy do I have to wear stripes?” PJ asked himself. “Look at Puddles and Bru and Mc-Whiskers and Tux and KaWally. Not one of them has stripes. It makes me look like I’m a referee.”

CONTENTS

PJ looked in the mir-ror. But he quickly looked away. He saw twice as many stripes now.

By this time PJ was beginning to have a pity party. He was feeling sorry for himself.

“There is nothing like a good snooze to make a ze-bra feel better,” PJ thought. “I’ll crawl behind this big bush and sleep where no-body will see me and my ugly stripes.”

PJ was almost asleep when he heard voices on the other side of the bush. He listened carefully. Pud-dles and Bru were whisper-ing.

“Did you get the paint?” Puddles asked.

“Yes,” said Bru. “It’s about as red as I could find. We can paint some won-derful red spots with it. But we’ll have to do it while he is sleeping. Won’t he be surprised when he wakes up?”PJ wasn’t sleeping now. He was wide awake.

“My friends!” PJ thought. “My very own friends. They’re going to paint red spots all over me while I’m sleeping.”

PJ looked at his black and white stripes. Then he thought about red spots. PJ thought how terrible the red spots would look. The black and white stripes looked better already.

“What shall I do?” PJ wondered. If he got up now, his friends would see him. Then they would know that he heard what they said. PJ decided that he would lie quietly until his friends left.

PJ didn’t have long to wait. In less than a minute Puddles and Bru walked off together, laughing. “Won’t he be surprised,” Bru said with a big laugh.

“I can’t wait to see him,”

said Puddles. Then both of them laughed again as if they had just heard a big joke.

PJ really felt sorry for himself now. Even worse, he didn’t trust his friends. So he tried to stay away from them. But it’s really hard to stay away from big friends like Puddles and Bru.

That night PJ didn’t want to go to sleep. He could hear Puddles and Bru chuck-ling and whis-pering. PJ tried to stay awake as long

as he could, but finally he couldn’t stay awake any longer.

Suddenly PJ heard a rooster crowing. He opened his eyes. The sun was up. It was morning. Then PJ quickly closed his eyes again.

“Oh, no!” PJ whispered

to himself. “I fell asleep. I just know that Puddles and Bru painted red spots all over me.”

PJ slowly opened his eyes again. Then he looked at himself. But was he ever surprised.

There were no red spots all over him. That wasn’t

CONTENTSeven one red spot. PJ saw nice black and white stripes all over him.

Then PJ heard McWhis-kers talking. He was really excited.

“Oh, thank you, thank

you, thank you,” McWhis-kers said. “I always wanted my little wagon painted with red spots. How did you know?”

“We only heard you say that a hundred times,” said

Bru. “Maybe even a hun-dred and one times.”

“And your little wagon did need some paint,” said Puddles. “It was getting quite ugly. So we bought the paint and painted it while you were sleeping.”

PJ peeked around the corner. There was McWhis-kers, pulling his little wag-on covered with red spots.

“I guess I worried about something that never hap-pened,” PJ said when he told Bru and Puddles what had happened.

“Didn’t you know? That what worry is,” said Bru. “But we do have enough red paint left to paint those red spots all over you if you wish.”

“No thanks,” said PJ. “I think black and white stripes are the most beauti-ful things in the world.”

What do you think? Would you rather see PJ

with his black and white stripes or red spots?

The next time you start to worry about something, you will remember PJ and his stripes, won’t you?

CONTENTS