Festividad de San Martín

Yo voy con mi farol y mi farolito conmigo...
Arriba brillan las estrellas y abajo brillamos nosotros.
Y si hace frío, nos vamos a casa con nuestro pequeño farol.

(canción de la festividad que se canta al realizar la caminata en la oscuridad de la noche)

Birthday Poem - 3 years

When I have said my evening prayer,
And my clothes are folded on the chair,
And mother switches off the light,
I’ll still be 2 years old tonight.

But, from the very break of day,
Before the children rise and play.
Before the darkness turns to gold
Tomorrow, I’ll be 3 years old.

3 Kisses when I wake,
3 Candles on my cake!

Books

Lighting a Lamp: A Diwali Story by Jonny Zucker.

Story of Divaali by Verma Jatinder

Alphabet Book by Famke Zonneveld

Diwali

Diwali is one of the most important festivals celebrated in India. It is celebrated on the darkest night of the year, which usually falls sometime in the beginning of November. Diwali, though, is the festival of lights.

All over India, homes are decorated with lights and earthenware lamps filled with oil. These lamps are called diyas. The name 'Diwali' is from the Sanskrit 'dipavali', which means 'row of lamps'. Diyas are lit in every house to banish the dark and welcome in good luck and good fortune.

People wear new clothes, meet their friends and relatives, eat good food, give each other sweets and gifts, decorate their houses with flowers and lights and Rangoli patterns, and set off fireworks.

In the evening, many people hold a small prayer or puja in their homes. They honour Ganesh, the god of wisdom and good luck, the one who removes all obstacles from life; and they worship Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity and good fortune. Lights are left burning all night, so that Lakshmi may feel welcome and enter.

Diwali is also the start of the New Year for many communities in India.
Diwali is a festival of joy, prosperity and good luck, and a celebration of the victory of good over evil - which is expressed through different stories in different parts of India.

More Diwali Stories

Number Poem

A poem to teach your child how to write numbers

Around we go!
To make a zero!

Start at the top then down you run
That's the way to make a one!

Around and back on a railroad track!
Choo, choo, choo!

Around a tree and around a tree,
That's the way to make a three!

Down and across and down once more,
That's the way to make a four!

Short neck, belly fat,
Mr. Five wears a hat.

Make a C then in you go,
That's the way to make six, you know!

Across the sky and down from heaven,
That's the way to make a seven!

Make an S but do not wait,
Go back up and close the gate. (8)

A hoop and a line,That makes a nine.

Storytime Verse

Said slowly and deliberately:

The moon is round
it has two eyes
two ears
but.... no sound.

And then there is a meaningful pause of silence before thestoryteller commences.

Candle Lighting Verse

Here is the spark of Father Sun's Light
May it keep us warm and bright

Summer Poem

What do you suppose?

1 bee sat on my nose.

He said, "I beg your pardon,I thought you were a garden!"

You can use your finger to be the bee that land on someone's nose.

Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse

Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse both lived in a house.

Titty Mouse went a-gleaning, and Tatty Mouse went a-gleaning.

So they both went a-gleaning.

Titty Mouse gleaned an ear of corn, and Tatty Mouse gleaned an ear of corn.

So they both gleaned an ear of corn.

Titty Mouse made a pudding, and Tatty Mouse made a pudding.

So they both made a pudding.

And Tatty Mouse put her pudding into the pot to boil.

But when Titty went to put hers in, the pot tumbled over, and scalded her to death, and Tatty sat down and wept.

Then the three-legged stool said, “Tatty, why do you weep?”

“Titty’s dead,” said Tatty, “and so I weep.”

“Then,” said the stool, “I’ll hop,” so the stool hopped.

Then a broom in the corner of the room said, “Stool, why do you hop?”

“Oh!” said the stool, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and so I hop.”

“Then,” said the broom, “I’ll sweep,” so the broom began to sweep.

Then said the door, “Broom, why do you sweep?”

“Oh!” said the broom, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and so I sweep.”

“Then,” said the door, “I’ll jar,” so the door jarred.

Then the window said, “Door, why do you jar?”

“Oh!” said the door, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, and so I jar.”

“Then,” said the window, “I’ll creak,” so the window creaked.

Now there was an old form outside the house, and when the window creaked, the form said, “Window, why do you creak?”

“Oh!” said the window, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and so I creak!”

“Then,” said the old form, “I’ll gallop round the house.” So the old form galloped round the house.

Now there was a fine large walnut tree growing by the cottage, and the tree said to the form, “Form, why do you gallop round the house?”

“Oh!” says the form, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, and so I gallop round the house.”

“Then,” said the walnut tree, “I’ll shed my leaves.” So the walnut tree shed all its beautiful green leaves.

Now there was a little bird perched on one of the boughs of the tree, and when all the leaves fell, it said, “Walnut tree, why do you shed your leaves?”

“Oh!” said the tree, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form gallops round the house, and so I shed my leaves.”

“Then,” said the little bird, “I’ll moult all my feathers,” so he moulted all his gay feathers.

Now there was a little girl walking below, carrying a jug of milk for her brothers’ and sisters’ supper, and when she saw the poor little bird moult all its feathers, she said, “Little bird, why do you moult all your feathers?”

“Oh!” said the little bird, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form gallops round the house, the walnut tree sheds its leaves, and so I moult all my feathers.”

“Then,” said the little girl, “I’ll spill the milk.” So she dropt the pitcher and spilt the milk.

Now there was an old man just by on the top of a ladder thatching a rick, and when he saw the little girl spill the milk, he said, “Little girl, what do you mean by spilling the milk? your little brothers and sisters must go without their suppers.”

Then said the little girl, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form gallops round the house, the walnut tree sheds all its leaves, the little bird moults all its feathers, and so I spill the milk.”

“Oh!” said the old man, “then I’ll tumble off the ladder and break my neck.”

So he tumbled off the ladder and broke his neck; and when the old man broke his neck, the great walnut tree fell down with a crash and upset the old form and house, and the house falling knocked the window out, and the window knocked the door down, and the door upset the broom, and the broom upset the stool, and poor little Tatty Mouse was buried beneath the ruins.

Juan el perezoso

Lazy Jack

Once upon a time there was a boy whose name was Jack, and he lived with his mother on a common. They were very poor, and the old woman got her living by spinning, but Jack was so lazy that he would do nothing but bask in the sun in the hot weather, and sit by the corner of the hearth in the winter-time. So they called him Lazy Jack. His mother could not get him to do anything for her, and at last told him, one Monday, that if he did not begin to work for his porridge she would turn him out to get his living as he could.

This roused Jack, and he went out and hired himself for the next day to a neighbouring farmer for a penny; but as he was coming home, never having had any money before, he lost it in passing over a brook.

“You stupid boy,” said his mother, “you should have put it in your pocket.”

“I’ll do so another time,” replied Jack.

Well, the next day, Jack went out again and hired himself to a cowkeeper, who gave him a jar of milk for his day’s work. Jack took the jar and put it into the large pocket of his jacket, spilling it all, long before he got home.

“Dear me!” said the old woman; “you should have carried it on your head.”

“I’ll do so another time,” said Jack.

So the following day, Jack hired himself again to a farmer, who agreed to give him a cream cheese for his services. In the evening Jack took the cheese, and went home with it on his head. By the time he got home the cheese was all spoilt, part of it being lost, and part matted with his hair.

“You stupid lout,” said his mother, “you should have carried it very carefully in your hands.”

“I’ll do so another time,” replied Jack.

Now the next day, Lazy Jack again went out, and hired himself to a baker, who would give him nothing for his work but a large tom-cat. Jack took the cat, and began carrying it very carefully in his hands, but in a short time pussy scratched him so much that he was compelled to let it go.

When he got home, his mother said to him, “You silly fellow, you should have tied it with a string, and dragged it along after you.”

“I’ll do so another time,” said Jack.

So on the following day, Jack hired himself to a butcher, who rewarded him by the handsome present of a shoulder of mutton. Jack took the mutton, tied it with a string, and trailed it along after him in the dirt, so that by the time he had got home the meat was completely spoilt. His mother was this time quite out of patience with him, for the next day was Sunday, and she was obliged to do with cabbage for her dinner.

“You ninney-hammer,” said she to her son, “you should have carried it on your shoulder.”

“I’ll do so another time,” replied Jack.

Well, on the Monday, Lazy Jack went once more and hired himself to a cattle-keeper, who gave him a donkey for his trouble. Now though Jack was strong he found it hard to hoist the donkey on his shoulders, but at last he did it, and began walking home slowly with his prize. Now it so happened that in the course of his journey he passed a house where a rich man lived with his only daughter, a beautiful girl, who was deaf and dumb. And she had never laughed in her life, and the doctors said she would never speak till somebody made her laugh. So the father had given out that any man who made her laugh would receive her hand in marriage. Now this young lady happened to be looking out of the window when Jack was passing by with the donkey on his shoulders; and the poor beast with its legs sticking up in the air was kicking violently and heehawing with all its might. Well, the sight was so comical that she burst out into a great fit of laughter, and immediately recovered her speech and hearing. Her father was overjoyed, and fulfilled his promise by marrying her to Lazy Jack, who was thus made a rich gentleman. They lived in a large house, and Jack’s mother lived with them in great happiness until she died.

Gachas dulces

Érase una vez una muchacha, tan pobre como piadosa, que vivía con su madre, y he aquí que llegaron a tal extremo en su miseria, que no tenían nada para comer. Un día en que la niña fue al bosque, encontróse con una vieja que, conociendo su apuro, le regaló un pucherito, al cual no tenía más que decir: "¡Pucherito, cuece!", para que se pusiera a cocer unas gachas dulces y sabrosísimas; y cuando se le decía: "¡Pucherito, párate!", dejaba de cocer.
La muchachita llevó el puchero a su madre, y así quedaron remediadas su pobreza y su hambre, pues tenían siempre gachas para hartarse. Un día en que la hija había salido, dijo la madre: "¡Pucherito, cuece!", y él se puso a cocer, y la mujer se hartó. Luego quiso hacer que cesara de cocer, pero he aquí que se le olvidó la fórmula mágica. Y así, cuece que cuece, hasta que las gachas llegaron al borde y cayeron fuera; y siguieron cuece que cuece, llenando toda la cocina y la casa, y luego la casa de al lado y la calle, como si quisieran saciar el hambre del mundo entero.
El apuro era angustioso, pero nadie sabía encontrar remedio. Al fin, cuando ya no quedaba más que una casa sin inundar, volvió la hija y dijo: "¡Pucherito, párate!", y el puchero paró de cocer. Mas todo aquel que quiso entrar en la ciudad, hubo de abrirse camino a fuerza de tragar gachas.

Sweet Porridge

There was a poor but good little girl who lived alone with her mother, and they no longer had anything to eat. So the child went into the forest, and there an aged woman met her who was aware of her sorrow, and presented her with a little pot, which when she said, "Cook, little pot, cook," would cook good, sweet porridge, and when she said, "Stop, little pot," it ceased to cook. The girl took the pot home to her mother, and now they were freed from their poverty and hunger, and ate sweet porridge as often as they chose. Once on a time when the girl had gone out, her mother said, "Cook, little pot, cook." And it did cook and she ate till she was satisfied, and then she wanted the pot to stop cooking, but did not know the word. So it went on cooking and the porridge rose over the edge, and still it cooked on until the kitchen and whole house were full, and then the next house, and then the whole street, just as if it wanted to satisfy the hunger of the whole world, and there was the greatest distress, but no one knew how to stop it. At last when only one single house remained, the child came home and just said, "Stop, little pot," and it stopped and gave up cooking, and whosoever wished to return to the town had to eat his way back.