Ammamma's old story

Told in English, Telugu.

It was a warm summer night in a little village near the Godavari. The lights had gone out, and the whole house was quiet.

Chinni lay on the cot in the courtyard, close to her Ammamma. Above them, the stars twinkled. Beside them, a big mango tree swayed softly in the breeze.

"Ammamma, tell me a story," said Chinni. "An old, old story."

Ammamma smiled and patted Chinni's back, slow and gentle. "An old story? All right. This story is very old. It is older than your Amma."

Chinni's eyes went wide. "That old?"

"That old," said Ammamma. "Long ago, there was a little girl. She had two plaits and a red ribbon. One summer day, she ate a sweet, juicy mango. The juice ran down her chin, all the way to her elbows!"

Chinni giggled.

"When she finished, a big seed was left in her hand. Her father said, plant it, and see what happens. So the little girl dug a small hole in the yard. She put the seed inside. She covered it with soft earth. And she poured a little water on top."

"Then what?" asked Chinni.

"Then she waited. Every morning, she gave it water. Every evening, she sang to it. Little by little, day by day, the little seed will find its way."

Can you say it with me? Little by little, day by day, the little seed will find its way.

"For many days, nothing happened," said Ammamma. "The little girl felt a bit sad. But she did not give up. She gave water. She waited. And one morning, she saw a tiny green shoot peeping out of the earth! Because she cared for it every day, the seed had woken up."

"Hooray!" whispered Chinni.

"The shoot became a small plant. Soon it was taller than her knee. Then taller than her head. And the little girl grew bigger too. Little by little, day by day."

Chinni gave a big yawn. "Did the tree ever give mangoes?"

"Oh yes. After many summers, the tree was full of flowers. Then came little green mangoes. Then big golden mangoes, sweet as jaggery. The girl shared them with her friends, with the birds, and with everyone on her street."

Chinni thought for a moment. Then she looked up at the big mango tree above them. Its leaves went shh, shh, shh in the wind.

"Ammamma," she said slowly. "Was the little girl... you?"

Ammamma laughed a soft, happy laugh. "Yes, kanna. That little girl was me. And this is my tree."

Chinni reached out and touched the rough trunk. It felt strong and warm. "Your tree is so big now."

"Just like you will be," said Ammamma. "Little by little, day by day."

Chinni snuggled closer. "Ammamma, tomorrow, when we eat mangoes, can I keep the seed?"

"Of course," said Ammamma. "We will plant it together, right here in the yard."

Chinni smiled a sleepy smile. "And when I am very, very old, I will tell this story to my little one."

"Yes, you will," said Ammamma, kissing her forehead.

The stars twinkled. The mango tree rocked gently. And Chinni drifted off to sleep, whispering, little by little, day by day, the little seed will find its way.

Good night, little one.