Marilyn A. Kinsella          HOME

 March, 2004       Volume1          Issue 2

    Calendar:                               

       MARCH

*1-5 Adirondack College - NY

*6 Crandall Public Library-NY

*12 Madison County Teacher's Institute - Edw., IL

*13 Prairie Center Storytelling Day - Schaumburg, IL

*13 Illinois Storytelling Inc - committee meeting - Schaumburg, IL

*18 Showcase-Bloomington, IL

*19-21 Sharing the Fire - Boston, MS

*24 Carl Sandburg College - Carthage, IL

*25 Lewis and Clark College - Godfrey, IL

     APRIL

*2 Nashville Grade Schools

*2 Tan-Tar-a Resort - Showcase

*14 Workshop for Media Specialist - KC, MO

*15-16 Festival Performer for KC Story Celebration

*17 Young Author's Conference Presenter - Edwardsville, IL

*27 Storytelling at the Crossville Schools, IL

*29-30 Shrine of Our Lady of the Snow's Earth Days

     MAY

*1-2 OOPS Conference - workshop presenter Chesterfield, OH

*5 Chamber Luncheon Speaker - Fairview Hgts, IL

*6-8 St.Louis Storytelling Under the Arch Presenter and coordinator of the Youth Concert

*13 IL Arts Council showcase - Peoria, IL

*14 Possible Stories 'n Stones - West Part, Iowa

     JUNE

*5 All day workshop for CHASI on literacy - Alton, IL

*8 Stories 'n Stones - 12:30 Christopher Pubic Library Christopher, IL

*10 Stories 'n Stones - 2:00 Daniel Boone Branch, StL, MO

*12 Dillard Days, Dillard Mill, MO

*15 Stories 'n Stones - 2:00 Jacksonville Public Library - Jacksonville, IL

*16 Stories 'n Stones - 2:00 Thornhill Branch, StL, MO

*17 Stories 'n Stones - 1:00 Latzer Public Library, Highland, IL

*18 Stories at Pleasant Ridge Park - 9:30 Fairview Heights, IL

*22 Stories 'n Stones - 10:00 Galesburg Public Library - Galesburg, IL

*23 The Piasa Puppet Show and Stories -1:00 Latzer Public Library - Highland, IL

*24 Stories 'n Stones 2:00 Rock Road Branch, StL, MO

*28- July 1 Tour of 7 libraries in Lawrence County, IL Times and dates TBA

 Purple Green and Yellow   

My trip to New Orleans was a totally new and adventuresome time. It was a  fun-filled week. I wrote to my cyber story-family on Storytell and gave them a thumbnail sketch of my whirlwind week in New Orleans:

Did you miss me as much as I missed you? I've been off line for the last 2 weeks. Ah, poor me. I had to leave the snow and ice to go spend a week in New Orleans. I had a great time. Our own Angela Davis invited me down to spend a working vacation with her. It was a whirlwind week. In fact the first night the wind did whirl, but after that blue skies! I visited 4 schools, the Children's Castle, and did a workshop with Angela. In between we saw the French Quarters, the Mardi Gras Museum, and took a street tour of New Orleans. At the Children's museum I had a session called Purple, Green and Yellow and told Munsch stories. When I got to New Orleans everything was decorated in Purple, Green and Yellow! Wow, do they know how to welcome someone, or what! What a surprise to be at the famous Cafe De Monde (sp?) and pick up a paper with my name and program listed at the Children's Castle! I won't even tell you about the delicious seafood, French pastries and jambalaya (sp?) that we consumed. New Orleans is a feast for the eyes as well as for the food. One night Angela cooked and shared her Cajun, down-home-cookin' secrets with me.

One day, I visited Lafayette for a day of telling. I traveled over the bayou to reach the heart of Acadian country. I loved just listening to the town folk talk with their colorful Cajun dialect. At St. Pius School they had an International Symposium. The gym was transformed into the seven continents. This was all the parents doing. It was too remarkable for words. I told stories from around the world on a magic carpet ride to 4 year olds and 4-6th grades. Through the stories we visited West Africa, Ireland, Germany and Sweden. They were excellent audiences.

  Marilyn doing workshop for SELA

Then, the creme de la creme, the icing on my King's cake...our Dianne de Las Casas opened her home for their storytelling group to have me do a workshop for them. Dianne is not only an excellent teller, she is a gourmet cook!  This group is a spontaneous, creative, fun-loving group called SELA. Our little joke was Kinsella was a SELA!  All I had to do was throw some seeds out there and their creative minds grew as fast as Jack's fabled bean stalk! Samantha (my gorilla puppet) was even given a new dress and a tiara, no less, for her appearance at the Children's Palace the next day.

I've been reticent about Samantha, but she shone in New Orleans. So, she's going to be a part of my storytelling for my younger listeners from now on. Angela gave me some excellent advice. The first time I brought her out for a large group of pre-schoolers, I put her away behind a piano, so the children wouldn't be distracted. WRONG! They kept asking for her over and over. Angela said to keep her out, have a teacher hold her, and have Samantha model good listening skills. The next time I did just that. It was great. The little ones just accepted her as one of the audience.

       Friend and Fellow teller      Angela Davis, the Yarnspinner

The cooking secrets and the trick with Samantha was just one of the many, many gifts that Angela shared with me while I was there. She literally opened her home and heart to me. Samantha may have modeled good listening skills, but Angela modeled for me what it takes to bring my storytelling to the next level. I came home with a renewed... positive...look at my storytelling.

I hope to write a full report in the coming weeks, but for now...I'm still basking in shades of purple green and yellow! Marilyn

      The Workshop for SELA

I mentioned in my letter that I did a workshop for SELA. This group was so creative that the seeds I was dropping were growing before they touched the ground. The workshop was on adding power language to a story. Many of you know the story about a peddler who has a dream of someone telling him where some riches are. The only catch he has to go to a bridge to find out. When he has the dream 3 times, he knows he must go. He waits for 3 days but no one comes until the very end. A man berates him for being a fool and tells him that he too had a dream about a crossroads and an apple tree and digging under the tree to find treasure. Of course the peddler recognizes his own home at the crossroads. When he returns he finds the treasure.

It is a beautiful story and speaks to the person who follows his dream. We did some writing exercises and then I took some of the their ideas and wrote a new version. It was challenging, because I wanted the story to go a certain way or have certain images, but that's not what the group gave me to work with. Even so, I think the story came out great. Here is the version. The parts highlighted in yellow were words, phrases, even paragraphs that I used from the workshop. I call the story "The Peddler of Dreams." The story is in the next column.

              Teacher/Teller

*If you click on to the title above it will take to a page of handouts that I use in a variety of workshops that I offer. For more information about the workshops, availability, and prices please email: Marilyn Periodically, I will add more.

*A new page teachers will find of interest is:                                   Along the Expedition Trail Study Guide

    The Peddler of Dreams

A lonely old peddler lived several miles out of town at a crossroads. But, oh that house had seen better days. Its cracked facade, decaying porch, and musty air reflected the life of the peddler. Neither sounds of laughter nor shouts of anger penetrated his thick wall of complacency. The sound of his own shallow breathing was his only company.

Thank goodness winter was almost over. In just a few weeks, he’d be back on the highways and byways with his peddler’s pack slung over his shoulder. He smiled as thought of the children crying out with joy, “The Peddler Man!” The Peddler Man is coming!” And, the country folks would drop whatever they were doing to see what he had hidden away in the folds of his pack. He was a modest salesman, a peddler of special goods, traveling the countryside offering bargains… a bolt of calico for mama, a pretty ribbon for Mary’s hair, some tonic for papa, or a new knife for Jack. But, the most special time of all was the fall, when his sack was filled with red, shiny apples.

Ah, those apples. His neighbors said there must be some magic for that tree to grow such delicious apples. The peddler harvested the apples so others could make pies and cakes and apple-cinnamon candy. As he sold his apples, the children gathered around, for he told them stories about the hidden star deep at the heart of each and every apple. He pressed those apples to make a good strong cider. The men folk like to sit around his table and toast to happier days as they sipped the cider to keep him warm on cold winter nights

The apple tree was a constant source of pleasure - in the spring tiny, white flowers burst forth and filled his home with a delicious scent of apple blossoms; in the summer its shade gave him a cool place to rest; in the fall its branches hung low with the ripe red apples. When a cool breeze blew across the freshly picked apples, it never failed to invoke a dream the peddler had.

 In his dream he was a rich man. And, when he awoke, he smiled and thought…Ah twas, but a dream!

Yes, that apple tree was always a treasure ready of the picking! But, now it was winter, and its skeletal arms lay barren - no blossoms, no shade, no apples – just some initials of broken promises carved into its trunk.

As the tree had grown old, so had the peddler. His back was bent over from years of carrying that sack. His face was etched with deep craggy lines and his feet were as gnarly as the roots of the old tree.

One cold, winter evening, the peddler found a jar of cider hidden away in the cellar. He started a fire and poured himself a goodly portion of the cider. As he sipped the cup of the hot spicy drink, his head nodded, and he fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, he remembered he had a dream – a vivid dream. He found himself in the middle of a rickety, wooden bridge that led into town. He had been there many times in his youth, but this time he was just standing there like he was waiting for someone. Then, a stranger came up to him, and they started to talk. Just as the man was ready to tell him something very important, he awoke.

He probably would have forgotten about that dream, but the next evening the very same thing happened. He sipped some cider and fell into a deep sleep. Again he met the stranger on the bridge. This time the stranger told him about a treasure, but, when he was about to ask about what kind of treasure, he awoke.

Then, on the third night, he had the dream again. This time the stranger was just about to tell him where to find the treasure, when he felt himself being pulled away from the bridge and into his chair in front of the fire. The peddler man was sure that this was not just a dream. Perhaps, he should make that long journey into town and stand at the very bridge.

 A fortnight later he arrived at the bridge. He saw many strangers, but none who talked to him. If truth be known, they averted their eyes and walked a little faster as they passed him on the bridge. They thought…who is this strange man and what is doing here…just standing and waiting….waiting for what!  And, they hurriedly walked on.

Now, unbeknownst to the peddler, there was someone watching him. At the other end of the bridge there was an inn. The innkeeper was an observant man who couldn’t help but notice an old man standing on the bridge. He was there in the morning, when he opened up, and still there, when he locked up for the night. Why, it seemed as if this man didn’t leave his post. Being a seeker, a collector of information, he decided to go and find out what this man of odd habit was about.

So, on the third day, his curiosity got the best of him. He tired of waiting and watching and went to get some answers, “Old man, I’ve been working at the pub for the past three days. I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been standing in the same place - like you were waiting for something or someone. What, pray tell, are you doin’ here?”

The peddler just smiled, “Ah, it was but a dream I had - for three nights in a row! It was the same dream, I tell ya.’  And, in this dream, I was told to come here, and I’d meet a stranger, and that stranger would tell me where some treasure was hidden.”

With that the innkeeper threw back his head and laughed and laughed, “Are you daft, man?” he chortled. “ Why I myself had a dream – for three nights in a row… I went traveling down this very road that leads out of town. Oh, in my dream, I traveled a far piece, I tell ya’ that.. I stopped at a crossroads for a spot of cider. As I was leaving, I saw a shovel leaning up against the trunk of an apple tree. I took that shovel and, for some reason, I dug and dug. Oh, I found a treasure all right and, do want to know what the treasure was? Gold! But, I knew it was fool’s gold for only a fool would go off on some wild goose chase to follow one’s dreams!”

The peddler just smiled and said, “You know…you’re right. What was I thinking? I’m just a fool – and an old fool to boot.”

But as the peddler made his way back home he mused…it was no accident, the coincidences of today. The wise man, he thought, learns from the things that happen to him. Wisdom comes to those who slow down and pay close attention.

He went over the dream of the innkeeper – the tree, the shovel…the treasure. Could it be that the treasure was there all the time – in his own backyard? And then, it was like a candle was lit inside him. He knew before he picked up the shovel, that the treasure wasn’t what was inside a dirt-encrusted, metal box. It was the treasure that the tree had shared for so many years. It was smell of apples and cinnamon; it was the look in the children’s eyes as he told them stories; it was the camaraderie of old friends. And for the first time, the peddler realized that the tree had made his dream come true – for he was truly a rich man indeed.