The Storyteller | Ep. 326

Documentary filmmaker, explorer, and author Tahir Shah once said: “Stories are a communal currency of humanity.”

In other words: storytelling and sharing tales are something we all have in common.

And this week’s tale is about stories, and the magical ways they bring us together.

Our story is called “The Storyteller.” Versions come from the Azores: a chain of volcanic islands in the North Atlantic Sea, over 900 miles off the coast of Portugal.

Voices in this episode include: Ryan Dalusung, Joe Hernandez, Dawn Ursula, and Rebecca Sheir.

You also heard former Circle Round guest stars Fortune Feimster and Tom Papa from our 2023 episode, “Amos and the Ogre,” Christina Anthony and Lindsay Mendez from our 2021 episode, “The Horse of a Different Color,” and Aparna Nancherla from one of our most beloved Circle Round stories of all time, our 2019 episode, “The Three-Legged Pot.”

Our special guest star in this week’s episode was Maria-Christina Oliveras: an award-winning film, television, and theater actress who stars in the Tony-Award-nominated comedy, “The Balusters,” currently playing at New York City’s Samuel J. Friedman Theatre.

This episode was adapted for Circle Round by Rebecca Sheir. It was edited by Dean Russell. Original music and sound design is by Eric Shimelonis. Our artist is Sabina Hahn.

GROWN-UPS! PRINT THIS so everyone can color while listening. We’re also keeping an album so please share your picture on Facebook and Instagram, and tag it with #CircleRoundPodcast. To access all the coloring pages for past episodes click HERE. Our resident artist is Sabina Hahn and you can learn more about her HERE.

Now It’s Your Turn

Telling stories is a blast. To give you ideas for your own story, you can use a story box!

Musical Spotlight: Portuguese guitar

The pear-shaped plucked string instrument known as the Portuguese guitar (“guitarra portuguesa” in Portuguese) has twelve steel strings, strung in six courses of two.

The Portuguese guitar differs from other guitars in several ways: it’s smaller, it’s shaped like a pear, and it has a violin-like bridge which is not rigidly fixed to the soundboard. These distinctive characteristics stem from the fact that the Portuguese guitar is actually a cittern: a close cousin of the guitar.

Because of its relatively inexpensive price and ease of play, the cittern was popular in Europe during the Renaissance. A specific cittern, the English guitar, is thought to be the direct ancestor of the modern Portuguese guitar!

The Portuguese guitar is widely used in Portuguese traditional music, especially the genre known as fado. You can also hear Eric Shimelonis play the Portuguese guitar in our episode, “In the Wolf’s Mouth.”

Script:

NARRATOR (host Rebecca Sheir): Princess Cecilia lived with her father, the king, in a resplendent palace by the sea.

The princess wore the most fabulous clothes, ate the most sumptuous foods, and attended the most lavish parties, banquets, and balls.

She also owned the most beautiful jewels: an extravagant set of rings. She had inherited the rings from her mother: a wise, benevolent queen whose recent passing left Cecilia and her father all alone.

The princess kept her mother’s rings in an opal box. And each morning, before breakfast, Cecilia would go out to her balcony, open the box, and admire the treasures inside.

PRINCESS: Oh! See how Mother's sapphire ring sparkles in the sun! And how her diamond ring dazzles! The ruby ring is radiant! The gold ring is glistening! And that twinkle in the topaz? It reminds me of the twinkle in Mother's eyes!

NARRATOR: One morning, when Princess Cecilia went out to her balcony, she found she had a surprise visitor. Crouched in a flower box on the railing was a fluffy, fuzzy, chocolate-brown bunny!

PRINCESS: Good morning, my pointy-eared friend! How did you get all the way up to my balcony? Since when do bunnies fly?

NARRATOR: The bunny sprang off its hind legs and onto Cecilia’s lap.

PRINCESS: (giggling) Oh my goodness! Aren’t you adorable?! (beat) I wonder.… Are you hungry, bunny? Would you like something to eat?

NARRATOR: The bunny gave its whiskers a wiggle.

PRINCESS: I’ll take that as a ‘yes’! (beat) Wait here, bunny. I’ll fetch some food. And then maybe you and I could play? Tag might be fun… or hide-and-go seek? Anyway, I’ll be right back!

NARRATOR: Cecilia put the bunny down, then hurried to the kitchen to grab some greens. But when she returned, the chocolate-brown bunny was gone… and so was her opal box of rings!

PRINCESS: Oh no! Did that bunny steal my rings? It can’t be!

NARRATOR: She raced to the railing and peered down at the garden. But there was no bunny or box to be seen.

PRINCESS: I can’t believe this! That bunny betrayed me! (beat) I’ll never forgive myself for losing Mother’s rings – and neither will Father! I promised him I'd keep the rings safe… and I’ve broken my promise!

NARRATOR: Princess Cecilia felt her heart plunge. A lump formed in her throat.

PRINCESS: (near tears) I mustn’t tell anyone the rings are gone! From this day forward, I’ll keep Mother’s missing rings a secret! I shan’t breathe a word!

NARRATOR: The princess stayed true to her vow. But the longer she stayed silent, the sadder she became. She was already grieving the loss of her mother. Now she was grieving the loss of her mother's rings, too.

The king noticed a change in his daughter’s demeanor. Though she insisted nothing was wrong, he knew better. So he called for his chief advisor – his most trusted counselor – and asked for advice.

KING: Chief advisor. Surely you’ve noticed how melancholy Cecilia has been lately. How do you think we might cheer her up?

CHIEF ADVISOR: That’s a good question, Your Majesty. (beat) Tell me: the princess has always loved stories… has she not?

KING: Indeed she has! (beat) When her mother was alive, she told Cecilia a different story every night! The queen had a real knack for spinning yarns — unlike me. I’m more likely to tangle up a yarn than spin one!

CHIEF ADVISOR: Well then… I propose we invite all the kingdom’s storytellers to the palace. We ask each one to tell the princess a story. Surely one of their tales will make her smile!

KING: What a fine idea! We shall summon the kingdom’s storytellers at once!

NARRATOR: It so happens that among the kingdom’s storytellers was an aged woman. Swirling inside her snowy-white head were the most enchanting stories you ever did hear! But now that she was older, her memory was fading and she found it harder and harder to remember her tales.

STORYTELLER: Perhaps I can come up with a new tale and bring that to the princess! It’s a long trip from my village to the palace. Surely I can weave a new yarn along the way!

NARRATOR: The storyteller took up her walking stick and set out on her journey. The trip was pleasant as she hobbled past rushing rivers and across fields lush with grass.

But she didn’t find anything story-worthy… until she climbed to the top of a tree-covered hill. For there… lurking outside a dark, stony cave… was an OGRE!

STORYTELLER: (GASP!) Oh my!

NARRATOR: The storyteller clutched her walking stick and scooted behind a tree. Just then, a man came bounding up the hill. He was dressed in a tunic, work boots, and an apron that said “Amos the Cheesemaker.” He approached the cave, where the hulking ogre fixed him with beady eyes.

OGRE: Welcome back, little person! Ready to have your butt kicked?

AMOS: I’m ready to compete, if that’s what you mean! The first contest is stone throwing. Would you like to go first?

OGRE: Absolutely! Watch this!

NARRATOR: The ogre bent down and lifted up a stone the size of a pumpkin. She clutched it in her hand, cocked back her arm, then hurled the stone into the air.

OGRE: (ad-lib stone-throwing efforting sound)

[SOT: stone flying through air] 

NARRATOR: It whizzed over the trees and past the village, before landing in a distant river. The river was so far off, the storyteller couldn’t even hear the splash.

OGRE: Ha! That stone must have traveled miles and miles! There’s no way you can throw a stone farther than that, little person!

NARRATOR: Amos didn’t say a word. He just knelt down as if reaching for another stone on the ground. But instead, do you know what he actually did? Secretly, he took a little gray bird out of his coat sleeve.

AMOS: (whispering to bird so ogre won’t hear) Okay, little friend. Let’s see what you can do!

NARRATOR: Amos wrapped his fingers around the bird. Then he pulled back his arm and flung it forward, as if tossing a stone into the air.

AMOS: (ad-lib stone-throwing efforting sound)

NARRATOR: As Amos made his throw, he opened his fingers and released the bird. The surprised creature flapped its wings and took off toward the sky. It flew higher and higher, before vanishing above the clouds.

The ogre was thunderstruck. After all, as far as her beady eyes could see, Amos had just lofted an actual stone all the way to space!

OGRE: Human! You threw that stone so far, it might never come back down again!

AMOS: Perhaps! Perhaps.

NARRATOR: The storyteller couldn’t help but giggle from behind her tree.

STORYTELLER: (giggling) Goodness me! From what I can tell, that clever cheesemaker – Amos – challenged the ogre to a strength contest! Then he tricked her into believing that SHE is nowhere near as mighty as HE! (laugh) This will make a remarkable story to tell the princess!

NARRATOR: The storyteller waited until Amos and the ogre were gone. Then she leaned on her walking stick and clambered down the hill.

She journeyed well into the night. As she neared the outskirts of a bustling town, she saw another sight that stopped her short!

STORYTELLER: (gasp!) My word! Look there! In the middle of that cornfield! Stomping on stalk after stalk and devouring cob after cob is the most remarkable horse I have ever seen!

NARRATOR: The horse was remarkable! Its head was as red as a ruby. Its mane was bright orange. Its neck was sunshine-yellow and its body was glittering green! Its legs were sapphire blue and deep indigo. And its tail was vibrant violet!

STORYTELLER: Good heavens! Something tells me I have found a second story to tell the princess! And I daresay THIS one will be very COLORFUL indeed!

NARRATOR: What will happen with the storyteller and her “horse of a different color”?

We’ll find out, after a quick break.

[BREAK]

NARRATOR: Welcome back to Circle Round. I’m Rebecca Sheir. Today our story is called “The Storyteller.”

Before the break, an old storyteller was heading to the palace, in hopes of cheering up Princess Cecilia with a tale. Unbeknownst to the world, the princess was grieving the loss of her mother’s rings, which had been stolen by a chocolate-brown bunny!

The aged storyteller could no longer remember the stories she’d known in her younger days. So during her journey across the kingdom, she sought out a new tale to tell.

The first story she stumbled upon involved a challenge between a cheesemaker named Amos and an ogre.

The second story unfolded in a cornfield, where a rainbow-colored horse was gobbling up all the corn. Near the horse stood a woman… holding a lasso of rope. The storyteller watched as the woman tossed the rope through the air, looping it around the horse’s bright orange neck!

To the storyteller’s surprise, the horse didn’t buck or rear or flare its nostrils; instead, it stood perfectly still, and the woman flashed it a sheepish grin.

VALENTINA: (good-natured) Well, hello there! Sorry we had to meet like this, but I couldn’t let you keep ruining our field! My family needs this corn to survive!

HORSE: (sincere) I’m sorry, Valentina!

NARRATOR: The woman holding the rope froze.

VALENTINA: What was that..?!? You talk...?!? And you know my name...?!? (beat)

HORSE: I do! And I’m sorry for devouring so much of your family’s corn, Valentina. It’s just that it’s the best corn I’ve ever tasted, and I simply couldn’t resist! (beat) But... if I promise never to eat it again… will you set me free?

NARRATOR: Valentina thought for a moment.

VALENTINA: Well… if I truly have your word that you’ll leave our corn alone... then yes... I will set you free.

NARRATOR: The horse whinnied with delight.

[SOT: whinnying sound]

HORSE: (delighted) Thank you, Valentina! (beat, sincere) You know, if most people found a talking, rainbow-colored horse, they wouldn’t set it free! They would take it to the market and sell it for pots and pots of money! Or they would lock it in a cage and sell tickets for everyone to come and gawk at it!

NARRATOR: The horse looked Valentina up and down.

HORSE: But you’re not like “most people,” are you...? (slowly, dramatically) So... in exchange for what you’ve done for me, I... will do something... for you.

I will grant you three wishes, Valentina. All you have to do is call out — “Rainbow Horse, Rainbow Horse, I set you free! Now it’s your turn to come and help me!” — and I will come and grant your wish.

NARRATOR: Then, before Valentina could even say ‘thank you,’ the horse whirled around and galloped away.

NARRATOR: The storyteller’s mind was spinning.

STORYTELLER: My my my! A rainbow steed who speaks and grants wishes?!!?? This will make ANOTHER terrific tale for the princess! (beat) But now… the hour is late, and these old bones need rest.

NARRATOR: She pulled a quilt from her satchel and settled on a patch of moss. After sleeping all night, something unexpected woke her up!

POT: Time to skip and skip! Wheeeeeee!

NARRATOR: The storyteller struggled to sit up. As she squinted her bleary eyes, what should she spy skipping past her but a little black cooking pot, with an elegant curved handle and three short, sturdy legs!

STORYTELLER: What in tarnation?!

NARRATOR: She scrambled to her feet, grabbed her walking stick, and hobbled after the pot. It skipped all the way across town, before stopping at a grand estate. According to a sign by the road, the fancy property belonged to a man named “Felix.”

The storyteller stayed outside as the pot skipped into a big red barn. As the old woman peered through a hole in the wall, she saw a pair of farmhands threshing wheat: separating the grains… the part you eat… from the stalks, then storing the grain in bags.

FARMHAND 1: Uh-oh. We’re all out of bags! And we’ve got bushels more wheat to thresh!

FARMHAND 2: More like hundreds of bushels! (beat) Sheesh. Why does Felix need all this grain, anyway? 

FARMHAND 1: Beats me! I mean, can the guy really eat that much bread?!? I’ll bet he ends up throwing most of this stuff away.

FARMHAND 2: Yeah. What a waste!

NARRATOR: The farmhands didn’t notice the three-legged pot standing beside them. Until…

FARMHAND 1: (noticing the pot) Hey - where’d that pot come from?

FARMHAND 2: I don’t know! But I’ll bet it could fit a whole lot of grain!

FARMHAND 1: Let’s try it!

NARRATOR: The farmhands poured bushel after bushel of wheat into the pot. Once it was filled to the brim, its three short legs began to twitch.

POT: Time to skip and skip! Wheeeeeee!

NARRATOR: The farmhands watched with astonishment — and amusement — as the pot clickety-clacked to the door, and dashed away.

NARRATOR: The storyteller struggled to keep up as the pot scurried across town. When it reached a tiny, ramshackle cottage, it delivered its contents to a man and woman wearing tattered, patched clothing and broad, grateful grins.

CASPER: Wow! With so much grain, we’ll be baking bread all winter!

CLARA: ...and all spring, summer and fall, too! Thank you, Pot!

CASPER: Thank you!

NARRATOR: The storyteller stared at the scene, her mouth wide open.

STORYTELLER: Heavens to Betsy! A skipping pot that steals from the rich and gives to the poor??? How marvelous! Now I have three stories to bring the princess!

NARRATOR: The storyteller had nearly reached the palace when she halted yet again. Because as she passed a snug, thatched-roof house, she suddenly heard…

BUNNY: (ad-lib crying; continue long enough to cover action that follows)

NARRATOR: …someone crying!

BUNNY: (crying) Oh woe is me! Woe is me!

NARRATOR: The storyteller tiptoed to the window and peeked inside. And that’s when her jaw dropped. Inside a cozy living room… shedding tear after tear… was a fluffy, fuzzy, chocolate-brown bunny!

BUNNY: (more crying)

NARRATOR: Beside the bunny an opal box. Inside the box was an extravagant collection… of rings.

BUNNY: (crying) I thought these rings would undo the spell! But I was wrong! So wrong!

NARRATOR: The storyteller staggered back from the window.

STORYTELLER: Good gracious! Here’s another extraordinary sight: a chocolate-brown bunny who talks! …But what is this spell of which it speaks? (beat) No matter. I must get to the palace. Before I forget all my stories!

NARRATOR: The old woman took off. By the time she reached her destination, hundreds of storytellers had already regaled Princess Cecila with their tales. But judging from the young woman’s puffy face and stooped shoulders, clearly her melancholy continued.

The storyteller stepped forward and offered a creaky curtsy.

STORYTELLER: Your Royal Highness! I can only imagine how many stories you’ve been told so far. You must have received an earful! (beat) But if you please, I’d like to spin some yarns of my own. (beat) I call this one… “Amos and the Ogre”!

NARRATOR: She leaned both hands on her walking stick, working her gnarled fingers together as she described the clever cheesemaker and his challenge with the ogre.

At first, Cecilia seemed intrigued. Her back straightened, her eyes brightened, a faint smile played at the corners of her lips.

But then, as if a sad memory had suddenly rushed to her mind, her face clouded with despair, and she slumped back with a sigh.

PRINCESS: (SIGH!)

STORYTELLER: Well! I see that tale didn’t lift your gloom. So here’s another! I call it… “The Horse of a Different Color”!

NARRATOR: The old woman launched into her story about the rainbow horse in the cornfield, and the promise it made to Valentina. Once more, the princess seemed engaged. But then…

PRINCESS: (SIGH!)

NARRATOR: …it was like another shadow passed over her.

STORYTELLER: I guess that one didn’t do the trick, either. But perhaps this one will! I call it… “The Three-Legged Pot”!

NARRATOR: The tale about the rambunctious pot who skipped and skipped grabbed Cecilia’s attention from the get-go. But just as quickly as her eyes lit up…

PRINCESS: (SIGH!)

NARRATOR: …they went dull again.

PRINCESS: I’m sorry, storyteller. These are all wonderful tales – worthy of being told again and again! (beat) I’m just not a very good audience today.

STORYTELLER: I understand, ma’am. (beat) But if I may… Could I trouble you with a fourth tale? It isn’t yet complete… and it doesn’t yet have a title… but I believe it’s worth a shot!

NARRATOR: The storyteller took a breath, then recounted her adventure outside the snug, thatched-roof house. When she got to the part about the weeping chocolate-brown bunny… and its opal box of rings… Cecilia leaped to her feet!

PRINCESS: (GASP!) What happened next, storyteller??? After you saw the chocolate-brown bunny!!! And the box of rings!!!

NARRATOR: The storyteller beamed with delight.

STORYTELLER: (beaming) Well, ma’am? What happened next was that the bunny spoke!

PRINCESS: It SPOKE?

NARRATOR: Cecilia’s jaw practically hit the floor.

PRINCESS: I can’t believe it! What did it say?

STORYTELLER: It was hard to hear through the tears… but I believe it said something like: “I thought these rings would undo the spell! But I was wrong! So wrong!”

NARRATOR: The princess looked down at her feet. When she looked up again, her face was gleaming as bright as her mother’s rings.

PRINCESS: Storyteller! You must take me to this chocolate-brown bunny! (beat) Please!

NARRATOR: The storyteller nodded, then led the princess to the snug, thatched-roof house. The princess marched right up to the door and threw it open.

[SOT: door open]

PRINCESS: Bunny? I know you’re in here! Show yourself!

NARRATOR: At first, she was met with silence. But then there was a scuttling sound, and out from under a table crept the fluffy, fuzzy, chocolate-brown bunny.

PRINCESS: I can’t believe what you did, bunny! I was so kind to you that morning on the balcony! And you went and stole my rings? Bring them to me. NOW!

NARRATOR: The bunny hung its head and crept back under the table. When it popped out again, it had the opal box of rings in its paws.

PRINCESS: You have a lot of explaining to do, bunny! And don’t try and play dumb with me! I know you can talk! This storyteller heard you! She told me all about the rings, the spell… everything!

NARRATOR: The bunny slumped its furry shoulders. Then it flattened its pointy ears against its head… and spoke.

BUNNY: You’re right, Princess. I have a lot of explaining to do. And the best way, I think, is with… a story. (beat) You see… once upon a time… I was a person! Just like you! Only I was NOTHING like you. I’m not proud of it, but I was dishonest and selfish… arrogant and rude. I didn’t have any friends. Nobody trusted me or wanted to be near me! (beat) Then… I met the magician.

PRINCESS: The magician?

NARRATOR: The princess cocked her head.

PRINCESS: Is that who put the spell on you?

BUNNY: It was! (beat) He wanted to teach me a lesson. So he used his magic to transform me from a person… into a bunny! And the only way I could undo the spell, he said… was if I found (carefully) “the greatest treasure in the world”!

PRINCESS: “The greatest treasure in the world”...?

BUNNY: That’s what he said! (beat) So when I saw those beautiful rings of yours… and how much you treasured them… I thought THEY might be the greatest treasure in the world!

PRINCESS: To ME, they ARE the greatest treasure in the world! They're from my mother! When I lost them, I was devastated.

BUNNY: But when I stole them, I was still a bunny! They didn’t undo the spell!

NARRATOR: A tear slipped down the bunny's cheek.

BUNNY: (teary) I am sorry, Princess. You WERE kind to me that morning on the balcony. You offered me food… you asked to play tag… you treated me like a friend! Something I’ve never had before. (beat) Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? … Please?

NARRATOR: The princess grew quiet. Then she got down on one knee and looked the bunny right in the eye.

PRINCESS: What you did was wrong. And rash. And hurtful. (beat) But I understand why you did what you did. And now that you’ve told me your story… and everything that happened… I CAN find it in my heart to forgive you.

NARRATOR: She held out a hand, as if to shake the bunny’s paw. But the moment she did, there was a big puff of smoke!

[SOT: big smoke puff]

NARRATOR: When the air cleared, the bunny with the chocolate-brown fur was gone. In its place… was a person! A young person, about Cecilia’s age, with chocolate-brown hair!

BUNNY: (GASP!) Look at me! I’m a person again! I undid the spell! (beat) But HOW???

NARRATOR: The princess gave a speechless shrug. The storyteller gave a knowing nod.

STORYTELLER: I believe I know how the spell was undone!

NARRATOR: She grasped her stick and took a shuffling step forward.

STORYTELLER: It seems to me that you found the greatest treasure in the world!

BUNNY: I did?

PRINCESS: What is it?

NARRATOR: The old woman gave a grin.

STORYTELLER: My darling dears! Don’t you know? (beat) The greatest treasure in the world… is a story!

BUNNY: / PRINCESS: A STORY???

STORYTELLER: Yes! And what’s more? It’s a story you share with someone you care about! And who cares about YOU! …THAT is the greatest treasure!

NARRATOR: The princess and former bunny paused and exchanged a look. Then, they exchanged a hug.

The storyteller beamed with delight. After all her years telling tales, she knew that not all of them end happily ever after. But she was glad to see that this one did.

And as she tottered away from the two new friends in the snug, thatched-roof house, her snowy-white head was once again swirling with stories. Exciting, enchanting, action-filled stories!

And though her job here was done, she could hardly wait to travel elsewhere, and share her many, many, many tales with the world!