Guided Sleep Meditation & Sleep Hypnosis from Sleep Cove - Bedtime Story - Little Women

Episode Date: January 19, 2020

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Soon you will have a relaxing sleep story where I will read the classic book Little Women I hope you enjoy it as you close your eyes gently taking the words as you relax and gently fall asleep Little Women

by Louisa May Alcott Chapter 1 Playing Pilgrims Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents Grumbled Joe lying on the rug

It's so dreadful to be poor, sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress. I do think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things and other girls nothing at all, added little Amy with an injured sniff. We've got father and mother and each other, said Beth contentedly from her corner. The four young faces in which the fire line. shone, brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again, as Joe said, sadly. We haven't got father, and shall not have him for a long time. She didn't say, perhaps never, but each silently added to it, thinking of father far away, where the fighting was. Nobody spoke for

a minute, then Meg said in an altered tone. You know the reason mother proposed not having any presents this Christmas? Was because it was going to be hard winter for everyone. And she thinks we ought not to spend money for pleasure when our men are suffering so in the army. We can't do much, but we can make our little sacrifices and ought to do it gladly. But I'm afraid I don't And Meg shook her head As she thought regretfully

Of all the pretty things she wanted But I don't think The little we should spend would do any good We've each got a dollar And the army wouldn't be much helped by giving that I agree not to expect anything from mother or you But I do want to buy Andine and cintran for myself

I've wanted it so long, said Joe, who was a bookworm. I planned to spend mine in new music, said Beth, with a little sigh, which no one heard, but the hearth brush and kettle holder. I shall get a nice box of vapours drawing pencils. I really need them, said Amy decidedly. Mother didn't say anything about our money. and you won't wish us to give up everything. Let's each buy what we want and have a little fun.

I'm sure we work hard enough to earn it, cried Jo, examining the heels of her shoes in a gentlemanly manner. I know I do. Teaching those tiresome children nearly all day when I'm longing to enjoy myself at home, began Meg, in the complaining tone again. You don't have half such a time as I do, said Joe. How would you like to be shut up for hours with a nervous, fussy old lady

who keeps you trotting, is never satisfied, and worries you till you're ready to fly out of the window or cry? It's naughty to fret, but I do not think washing dishes and keeping things tidy is the worst work in the world. It makes me cross and my hands get so stiff. I can't practice well at all and Beth looked at her rough hands with a sigh. That anyone could hear that time. I don't believe any of you suffer as I do, cried Amy.

If you don't have to go to school with your impertinent girls who plague you if you do not know your life. lessons and laugh at your dresses and label your father if he isn't rich and insult you when your nose isn't nice. If you mean libel, I'd say so and not talk about labels as if Papa was a pickle bottle, advised Joe laughing. I know what I mean and you needn't be satirical about it. It's proper to use good words and improve your vocabulary returned Amy with dignity Don't peck at one another children

Don't you wish we had the money papa lost when we were little Joe dear me How happy and good will be If we had no worries said Meg Who could remember better times You said the other day you thought we were a real deal happier than the king, children

for they were fighting and fretting all the time in spite of their money. So I did, Beth, well I think we are, for though we do have to work, we make fun of ourselves, and are a pretty jolly set, as Joe would say.

Joe, does you slang words, observe Amy, With a reproving look at the long figure stretched on the rug Joe immediately sat up, put her hands in her pockets and began to whistle. Don't Joe, it's so boyish. That's why I do it. I detest rude and ladylike girls. And I hate effective nimmie-pinini chits. Birds and their little nests agree, sang Bath, the peacemaker.

with such a funny face that both sharp voices softened to a laugh. And the pecking ended for that time. Really, girls, you're both to be blamed, said Meg, beginning to lecture in her elder, sisterly fashion. You were old enough to leave off boyish tricks and to behave better, Josephine. It didn't matter so much when you were a little girl, but now you were so tall

and turn up your hair you should remember that you are a young lady I'm not and if turning up my hair makes you on I'll wear it in two tails till I'm 20 cried Joe

pulling off her net and shaking down a chestnut mane I hate to think I've got to grow up and be mismarch and wear long gowns and look as prim as a china raster

it's bad enough to be a girl anyway when I like boys games and work and manners I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy and it's worse than ever for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa and I can only stay home and knit like a pokey old woman and Joe shook the Blue Army sock

to the needles rattled like castanets and her ball bounded across the room. Poor Joe, it's too bad, but it can't be helped. So you must try to be contented with making your name boyish and plain brother to his girls, said Beth, stroking the rough head with a hand that all the dishwashing and dusting in the world could not make it gentle.

You are all together, but you'll grow up an affected little goose if you don't get care. I like your nice manners and refined ways of speaking when you don't try to be elegant. But your absurd words are as bad as Joe's slang. If Joe is a tomboy

and Amy is a goose, what am I, please? asked Beth, ready to share the lecture. You're a dear, nothing else, answered Meg warmly, and no one contradicted her, for the mouse was the pet of the the family. As young readers like to know how people look, we will take this moment to give them

a little sketch of the four sisters who sat knitting away in the twilight. While the December snow fell quietly without and the fire crackled cheerfully within, it was a comfortable room, though the carpet was faded and the furniture very plain, for a good picture or two hung on the walls books filled the recesses and chrysanthemums and Christmas roses bloomed in the windows and a pleasant atmosphere of home pervaded it Margaret the eldest of the fall was sixteen and very pretty being plump and fair with large eyes plenty of soft brown hair a sweet mouth

and white hands of which she was rather vain 15 year old Joe was very tall thin and brown and reminded one of a cult for she never seemed to know what to do with her long limbs

which were very much in her way she had a decided mouth a comical nose and sharp grey eyes which appeared to see everything and were by turns fierce, funny, or thoughtful, long thick hair was her warm beauty. But it was usually bundled into a net to be out of her way. Brown shoulders had Joe, big hands and feet, a flyaway look to her clothes,

and the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who was rapidly shooting up into a woman and didn't like it. Elizabeth or Beth, as everyone called her, was a rosy, smooth-haired, bright-eyed girl of 13 with a shy manner, a timid voice and a peaceful expression which was seldom disturbed. Her father called her Little Miss Tranquility

and the name suited her excellently for she seemed to live in a happy world of her own, venturing out to meet the few whom she trusted and loved. She, though the youngest, was a most important person, in her own opinion at least. A regular slow maiden, with blue eyes and yellow hair, curling on her shoulders, pale and slender, and always carrying herself like a young lady,

mindful of her manners What the characters of the four sisters Were we will leave to be found out Box struck six And having swept up the hearth Beth put a pair of slippers down to wall Somehow the sight of the old shoes Had a good effect upon the girls

That was coming And everyone brightened to welcome her lecturing And lighted the lamp Amy got out of the easy chair without being asked, and Joe forgot how tired she was as she sat up to hold the slippers nearer to the blaze. They are quite worn out.

Mami must get a new pair. I thought I'd get her son with my dollar, said Beth. No I shall, cried Amy. I'm the illness, began Meg. but Joe cut in with a decided I'm the man of the family now Papa is away and I shall provide the slippers

for he told me to take special care of mother while he was gone Tell you what we'll do said Beth Let's each get her something for Christmas and not get anything for ourselves That's like you dear But what will we get?

exclaimed Joe. Everyone thought soberly for a minute, then Meg announced, as if the idea was suggested by the sight of her own pretty hands. I shall give her a nice pair of gloves. Army shoes best to be had, cried Joe. Some handkerchiefs all hemmed, said Bath. I'll get a little bottle of cologne. she likes it and it won't cost much so i'll have some left to buy my pencils added amy how will we give the things asked meg put them on the table and bring her in and see her open the bundles don't you remember how we used to do it on our birthdays answered joe i used to be so frightened when it was my turn to sit in the chair

with the crown on and see you all come marching round to give the presents with a kiss I like the things and the kisses but it was dreadful to have you sit looking at me while I opened the bundles said Beth who was toasting a face

and the bread for tea at the same time let Marmy think we are getting things for ourselves and then surprise her we must go shopping tomorrow afternoon, Meg. There is so much to do

about the play for Christmas night, said Joe, marching up and down, with her hands behind her back and her nose in the air. I don't mean to act any more after this time. I'm getting too old

for such things, absurd Meg. It was much as a child as ever about dressing up and frolics. You want to stop. I know. As long as you can trade around and a white gown with your hair down and wear gold paper jewellry, you're the best actress we've got, and there'll be an end of everything if you quit the board, said Joe. We ought to rehearse tonight. Come here, Amy, and do the fainting

scene, for you are as stiff as a poker in that. I can't help it. I never saw anyone faint, and I don't choose to make myself all black and blue, tumbling flat as you do. If I can go down easily, I'll drop. If I can't, I shall fall into a chair and be graceful. I don't care if Hugo does come at me with a pistol, returned Amy, who was not gifted with dramatic power, but was chosen because she was small enough to be born out shrieking by the villain of the peace.

Do it this way, clasp your hands so and stagger across the room, crying frantically, Roderigo, save me, save me. And away went Joe with a melodramatic scream, which was truly thrilling. Amy followed, but she poked her hands out stiffly before her and joked herself along as if she went by machinery, and her owl was more than. suggestive of pins being run into her, then of fear and anguish. Joe gave a despairing groan, and Meg laughed outright, or Beth had to bread burn as he watched the fun with interest. It's no use. Do the best you can when the time comes, and, if the

audience laughs, don't blame me, come on Meg. Then things went smoothly for Don't Pedro defied the world in a speech of two pages without a single break. Hagar, the witch, chanted an awful incarnation over her kettled of simmering toes with weird effect, and Roderigo rent his chains asunder manfully, and Hugo died in agonies of remorse, an arsenic with a wild ha-ha. It's the best we've had yet, said Meg, as the dead villain sat up and rubbed his shoulders. I don't see how you can write and act such splendid things, Joe. You're a regular Shakespeare, exclaimed Beth,

who firmly believed that her sisters were gifted with wonderful genius in all things. Not quite, replied Jo modestly. I do think the witch's curse, An operatic tragedy is rather a nice thing, but I'd like to try Macbeth. If we only had a trapdoor for Banco, I always wanted to do the killing part. Is that a dagger that I see before me? Mattered Joe, rolling her eyes and clutching at the air, as she had seen a famous actor do? No, is the toasting fork with mother's shoe on it instead of the bread.

Beth stage-struck, cried Meg, and the rehearsal ended in a general burst of laughter. Glad to find you so merry, my girls, said a cheery voice at the door. An actors and audience turned to welcome a tall, motherly lady, with a, can I help you look about her, which was truly delightful. She was not elegantly dressed, but a noble-looking woman, and the girls thought the grey cloak and unfashionable bonnet covered the most splendid mother in the world.

Well dear Rhys, how have you got on today? There is so much to do. Getting the boxes ready to go tomorrow that I didn't come home to dinner. How's anyone called Beth? How was your cold Meg? Joe, you look tired to death. Come and kiss me,

While making these maternal inquiries, Mrs March got her wet things off, her warm slivers on and sitting down in the easy chair drew Amy to her lap, preparing to enjoy the happiest hour of her busy day. The girls flew about trying to make things comfortable, each in their own way. Meg arranged the tea table Joe brought wood and set chairs dropping overturning and clattering everything she touched

Beth trotted to and fro between parlor kitchen quiet and busy while Amy gave directions to everyone as she sat with her hands folded as they gathered about the table Mrs Mark said With a particularly happy face

I got a treat for you after supper A quick bright smile Went round like a streak of sunshine Beth clapped her hands Regardless of the biscuit she held And Joe tossed up her napkin Crying A letter, a letter

Three cheers for father Yes A nice long letter He is well and he thinks he shall get through the cold season better than we feared. He sends all sorts of loving wishes for Christmas and a special message to you girls, said Mrs March, patting a pocket if she had got a treasure there.

Hurry and get done. Don't stop to quirk your little finger and simper over your plate, Amy, cried Jo, choking on her tea and dropping her bread, butter sighed down. on the carpet in her haste to get up the treat. Beth ain't no more, but crept away to sit in her shadowy corner and brood over the delight to come till the others were ready.

I think it's so splendid and farther to go as chaplain when he was too old to be drafted and not strong enough for a soldier, said Meg warmly. Don't I wish I could go as a drummer? A vivan? What's its name?

or a nurse, so I could be near him and help him, exclaimed Joe, with a groan. It must be very disagreeable to sleep in a tent and eat all sorts of bad tasting things and drink out of a tin mug, sighed Amy. When will he come home, Mommy? said Beth, with a little quiver in her voice. Not for many months, dear, unless he is sick. he will stay and do his work faithfully as long as he can and we won't ask for him back a minute sooner that he can be spared

now come and hear the letter they all drew to the fire mother in the big chair with Beth at her feet Meg and Amy perched on either arm of the chair and Joe leaning on the back where no one could see

any sign of emotion if the letter should happen to be touching. Very few letters were written in those hard times that were not touching, especially those which father sent home. In this one little said of the hardships endured, the dangers faced or the homesickness conquered. It was a cheerful, hopeful letter full of lively descriptions of camp life, marches and military news and only at the end to the writer's heart overflow with fatherly love and longing for the little girls at home give them all of my dear love and a kiss i think of them by day pray for them by night and find my best comfort in their affection at all times a year seems very

to wait before I see them, but remind them that while we wait, we may all work, so that these hard days need not to be wasted. I know they will remember all I said to them, and they will be loving children to you, will do their duty faithfully, fight their bosom enemies bravely and conquer themselves so beautifully that when I come back to them I may be fonder and prouder than ever of my little women. Everybody sniffed when they came to that part and Joe wasn't ashamed of the great tear that dropped off the end of her nose, selfish girl, but I'll truly try to be better, so you won't be disappointed in me. We all too much of my looks and hate to work, but won't anymore if I can help it.

I'll try and be what he loves to call me. Be rough and wild, but do my duty here, instead of wanting to be somewhere else, said Joe, that keeping her temper at home was a much harder task and facing a rebel or two down south. Bath said nothing, but wiped away her tears with the blue army sock and began to knit, losing no time in doing the more she resolved in her quiet little soul to be all. Mrs March broke the silence that followed Jo's words by saying in her cheery voice, Do you remember how he used to play Pilgrim's Progress? when you were little things.

Nothing delighted you more than to have me tie my piece bags on your backs for burdens, give you hats and sticks and rolls of paper, and let you travel through the house from the cellar which was the city of destruction, up up to the house top things you could collect to make a celestial city. What fun it was, especially going by the lions, fighting the enemies and passing through the valley, where the hobgoblins were, said Joe. I like the place where the bundles fell off and tumbled downstairs, said Mech. I don't remember much about it, except I was afraid of the cellar and the dark entry and dusters with a nice piano. was such a funny one that everybody wanted to laugh, but nobody did, for it would have hurt her feelings very much.

Let us do it, said Meg thoughtfully. It is only a... We forget to spawn tonight, said Mother, the fancy, which lent a little romance to the very dull task of doing her duty. Look under your pillows Christmas morning, and you will find your guidebook, replied Mrs March. with a new plan, Hannah cleared the table, then out came the four little work baskets as the girls made sheets for arms. It was uninteresting sewing, but tonight no one grumbled. They adopted Joe's plan of dividing the long seams into four parts, and calling the quarters Europe, Asia, Africa and America got on capital-lech, especially when they talked about the different countries, as they stitched their way through them. At nine they stopped work and sang as usual

before they went to bed. No one but Beth could get music out of the old piano but she had a way of softly touching the yellow keys and making a pleasant accompaniment to the simple songs they sang. Meg had a voice like a flute and she and her mother led their little choir. Amy churped like a crue. and Jo wandered through the airs at her own sweet will and coming out at the wrong place with a croak or a quaver that spoiled the most pensive tune. They had always done this from the time they could lisp. Kringle, Kringle, it'll star. It'll start. It'd it become a household custom for the mother was a born singer. The first sound in the morning was her voice. She went about the house.

singing like a lark and the last sound at night was the same cheery sound for the girls never grew too old for that familiar lullaby.