Granny Snowstorm | Ep. 255

Think about a time you did a chore. Maybe you cleaned your room, cleared the table or raked some leaves.

Chores may not always be our favorite thing. But we do them because they're good for us and the people we love. In this week’s story, we’ll meet two siblings who learn just how important — and how unusual — a certain chore can be!

Our story is called “Granny Snowstorm.” It was inspired by tales from the Eastern European country of Ukraine.

We recorded this episode before a live audience of excited kids and grown-ups at Town Hall Seattle in Seattle, Washington. Joining host Rebecca Sheir on stage was a trio of Seattle-based actors: Zaki Hamid, Alyssa Keene and Diana Opong. And playing live music on the piano (learn more about this keyboard instrument below) was Eric Shimelonis.

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

What is winter like where you live?

Is it snowy and cold? Perhaps it’s the opposite, and your part of the world is sunny and warm come wintertime.

Whatever the case, draw a picture of yourself enjoying your favorite wintertime activities. Share your picture with someone you have fun with.

And if you’d like, you can share your picture with us!

Grown-ups: you can email a photo of your Circle Round fan and their artwork to circleround@wbur.org. We may feature it in a future edition of “The Lion’s Roar,” the monthly newsletter for members of the Circle Round Club. Learn more about this super-fun super-fan opportunity here!

Musical Spotlight: Piano

Music scholars believe that Italian instrument maker Bartolomeo Cristofori invented the first piano in the early 1700s.

Cristofori had been building clavichords: keyboards that could play softly and lightly (piano in Italian). He’d also been making harpsichords: keyboards that could play loudly and strongly (forte). After a lot of tinkering, Cristofori created the pianoforte, which we now know more commonly as the piano. And this keyboard instrument could play all levels of dynamics!

Thanks to felt-covered hammers that strike wire strings inside the instrument, the piano can play soft, sweet melodies, loud, epic ones, and everything in between. Eric chose the piano to score “Granny Snowstorm” because of the way its tinkling tones can sound like gently-falling snow – or a whirlwind of flakes!

You can also hear Eric playing the piano in other Circle Round stories including “The Persimmon Sisters,” “The Three Tests,” “Dollars and Scents,” “Once Upon a Flame” and our first episode ever: “It Could Always Get Worse.”

Script:

NARRATOR: Olga and her brother Boris lived in a peaceful village, on a farm they inherited from their parents. Although the siblings had grown up together, the two couldn’t have been more different.

Olga was sweet and friendly.

OLGA: (to audience) Greetings, everyone! Are you excited about today’s story? Yes?

NARRATOR: Boris, on the other hand…

BORIS: For crying out loud, Olga!!! Can you quit your yapping? We’ll never find out what happens in this story if you keep chit-chatting!

NARRATOR: Olga was a hard worker, eager to jump into her chores.

OLGA: The sun is up, Boris! Time to plow the fields and milk the cows!

NARRATOR: Boris was a loafer who preferred to laze the day away.

BORIS: (sleepy, grumpy) Time for YOU to plow the fields and milk the cows! I’m sleeping in!

NARRATOR: One chilly, drizzly day toward the end of autumn, Olga took a break from chores to join Boris at the kitchen table. It was long past noon, but he had just rolled out of bed to eat a late breakfast.

OLGA: Boris! If you go outside today, you’d better bundle up. It’s so bitter and blustery. Winter will be here any day now!

BORIS: Winter? Uch! I HATE winter! All that snow? And cold? The whole season’s a nuisance, if you ask me.

OLGA: Well I think it’s fun! I love it when Granny Snowstorm does her thing.

BORIS: (as if rolling his eyes) Granny Snowstorm???? You mean the so-called spirit who uses her supernatural powers to bring winter??? I never believed the stories Mom and Dad used to tell us about her.

OLGA: Well I did. And I still do! Granny Snowstorm is amazing. She lets us go sledding, and throw snowballs… And did you know that the snow she brings is actually good for our crops? The more it snows during wintertime, the better the harvest the following year!

BORIS: Um, that makes zero sense.

OLGA: Don’t you remember what Mom and Dad taught us back in the day? A blanket of snow is like a layer of mulch. It protects the soil from harsh winds and freezing temperatures. AND it helps the ground absorb more nutrients! Some people call it “the poor man’s fertilizer.”

BORIS: Look, sis. This is utterly fascinating, but I’m in the middle of absorbing my own nutrients right now. Can you let me finish my breakfast in peace?

OLGA: Fine. But would you do me a favor? I thought we’d have some nice hot soup for dinner tonight. If we put it on the stove now, it can simmer for a good long while. Can you please go to the well and fetch a bucket of water?

NARRATOR: Boris flashed Olga a look as sharp as a kitchen cleaver.

BORIS: You want ME to go to the well and fetch a bucket of water??? No way. You’re the one who does all the work around here!

OLGA: Maybe because you never help me out!

BORIS: Well maybe I don’t WANT to!

OLGA: (pace picks up as siblings squabble back and forth) Well maybe you SHOULD!

BORIS: (pace picks up as siblings squabble back and forth) Well maybe I’m sick of my sister ordering me about when I’m a full-grown man!

OLGA: (pace picks up as siblings squabble back and forth) And maybe I’m sick of my full-grown brother acting like such a – (gets interrupted before she can continue)

NARRATOR: (cutting in) Okay! Olga? Boris? Can we cool it, please? I know having a sibling can be challenging, but we need to keep this story moving.

BORIS: Fine! But only if OLGA is the one who fetches the water from the well!

NARRATOR: Actually… (checks the script) That happens to be exactly the way it’s written.

BORIS: Yessss!

NARRATOR: So Olga pulled on her coat and stepped out into the cold. Raindrops slid down her neck and puddles splashed on her boots as she trudged across the farmyard.

OLGA: Whew! Winter is DEFINITELY around the corner! It’s just a matter of time before these raindrops turn into snowflakes!

NARRATOR: Standing beside the well, Olga lifted the rope to lower the bucket. Once it was full of water, she tugged the rope to bring the bucket back up again. But then, something happened that she never, ever expected.

The rope… snapped!

And the untethered bucket went plummeting down the well like a stone.

OLGA: Oh no!

NARRATOR: What’s more, a sudden gust of wind came rushing across the farmyard. The gale was so strong, so powerful, it lifted Olga right off her feet, and sent HER tumbling down the well, too!

OLGA: Whooooooa!

NARRATOR: Down, down, down she fell, bracing herself for a big splash and even bigger crash.

And yet, when she reached the bottom, it was as if she had landed on a plush pillow. What’s more, the well was dry! It was also very dark.

OLGA: (calling up to top of well, way up high) Boris??? Can you hear me? I’ve fallen down the well!!! And I can’t get out!

NARRATOR: Olga’s eyes darted this way and that as she looked for something, anything, to help her out. And as she squinted in the darkness, that’s when she discovered two remarkable things.

First? Her bucket seemed to have disappeared!

And second? There was a little door, built right into the well’s wall. And when she opened it, what she saw on the other side made her jaw drop.

OLGA: This is impossible. IMPOSSIBLE! (beat) (dramatic) Or IS it???

NARRATOR: What do you think Olga spied on the other side of the door?

We’ll find out what it was, after a quick break.

[BREAK]

NARRATOR: I'm Rebecca Sheir and welcome back to Circle Round, live at Town Hall Seattle in Seattle, Washington! Today our story is called “Granny Snowstorm.”

Before the break…it was a rainy, chilly day in late autumn when Olga’s bucket fell down the well… and SHE fell after it! At the bottom of the well, she found a little door leading to an astonishing sight.

OLGA: It’s… a garden! And it’s in bloom! 

NARRATOR: Indeed! While the world above was cold and drizzly, the garden was warm and sunny. A soft breeze ruffled Olga’s hair as she wandered past beds of roses and peonies, lilacs and sunflowers. Beyond the flowers were fruit trees, their elegant branches laden with ripe shiny apples, cherries and pears.

OLGA: That fruit looks so delicious, I’m tempted to have a bite. But I mustn’t take what isn’t mine.

NARRATOR: As Olga marveled at the beauty around her, she suddenly heard… a voice!

GRANNY: Who walks about my garden looking at my flowers? Who walks about my garden looking at my fruit?

NARRATOR: Olga spun around and saw… a woman. An old woman, dressed all in white. Sparkling white gown, flowing white scarf, delicate white slippers. Her hair was white too, and cascaded down her back like a waterfall.

All at once, Olga knew exactly who she was.

OLGA: Granny Snowstorm! It’s YOU! (beat) So – so you ARE real!

GRANNY: As real as the bucket that came floating down into my world just now. I assume it belongs to you…?

OLGA: It DOES belong to me! I dropped it down the well by accident. And next thing I knew, I was here!

GRANNY: What is your name, dear?

OLGA: Olga…

GRANNY: Olga. I'd be happy to give your bucket back. But first, how would you like to work for me? I could use the help.

NARRATOR: Olga smiled.

OLGA: Honestly, I would LOVE to work for you, Granny Snowstorm. This place is amazing, and it would be an honor! But I should get back to my brother. He’s helpless on the farm without me!

GRANNY: Something tells me your brother can wait. (beat) So please: follow me. I have a job for you.

NARRATOR: Olga followed Granny Snowstorm into a beautiful white house. They walked down a long hallway and into a bedroom. A large mirror hung on the wall. In the corner was a four-poster bed with a big feathery mattress.

GRANNY: Olga. This bed… is mine. I'm no spring chicken – and these creaky old bones need something extra-soft to sleep on. So I want you to take the mattress off this bed… and shake it. Shake it with all your might, until it’s nice and fluffy. (beat) I’ll come fetch you in just a bit.

NARRATOR: As Granny Snowstorm shuffled off down the hall, Olga reached for the mattress. But the moment she took hold of it…

OLGA: (GASP!) This mattress! It’s as cold as ice! I thought it was made of feathers. But it’s actually made… of SNOW!

NARRATOR: Olga’s fingers were stinging with cold and turning blue. But knowing she had a job to do, she got to work. She grabbed the mattress and shook it. Up and down, side to side. Harder and harder and harder.

And as she did, do you know what happened?

It began… to snow! Right there in the room! A flurry of flakes went whirling and swirling about!

OLGA: The harder I shake the mattress, the more snow there seems to be! This is amazing! (beat) (gasp!) And look!

NARRATOR: Olga’s gaze fell upon the mirror on the wall.

OLGA: I’m not seeing my reflection in that looking glass. I’m seeing… my village! Snowflakes are cascading like feathers out of the sky, blanketing every house, every street, every field and every tree in a frosty layer of white!

NARRATOR: And that’s when Olga realized. By shaking Granny Snowstorm’s snowy mattress…

OLGA: …I’ve helped bring winter! (beat) And look how happy the villagers are! ​​The children are laughing and packing snowballs and catching snowflakes on their tongues. Families are sledding and making snow angels! And the farmers – they seem extra pleased. They know that a snowy winter means a successful harvest!

GRANNY: Ah. So you know about “the poor man’s fertilizer”...!

NARRATOR: Olga swung round as Granny Snowstorm returned.

OLGA: I know ALL about it! My parents taught me when I was little. “The harder the snow, the greener things grow,” they used to say.

GRANNY: Ooo, I like that! And I LOVE the job you’ve done. So come, Olga. Let’s enjoy some dinner, then you can help me again tomorrow.

NARRATOR: Weeks went by. Each and every day, Olga went to Granny Snowstorm’s bedroom and gave the mattress a good, strong shake. And each and every day, she saw in the mirror how the wintry wonderland she created brought joy to the villagers.

Well, maybe not ALL the villagers.

One of the villagers in the looking glass wore a constant frown, his eyes dark and sullen beneath a furrowed brow. Any guesses who it was?

That’s right! It was Olga’s brother, Boris! And he looked even more miserable than usual.

So that very day, Olga pulled Granny Snowstorm aside.

OLGA: You’ve been so wonderful to me, but I must go home to my brother. Don’t get me wrong; he can be a total pain in the neck. But when my parents got sick, I promised them I’d stick by him, no matter what.

GRANNY: I understand, my dear. And I shall miss you. But you mustn’t leave empty-handed.

NARRATOR: The old woman took Olga’s hand and led her to the kitchen. She opened a closet and there was Olga’s bucket… filled to the brim with gold coins!

GRANNY: Take these coins as your payment, Olga. You worked hard and willingly, and you deserve them.

OLGA: Thank you, Granny Snowstorm! I’ll never forget your kindness! But how do I get home?

GRANNY: The same way you came! Go back through the door in the well and up you’ll go.

NARRATOR: Granny Snowstorm was right. The moment Olga stepped through the door, a billow of air blew her up, up, up, until she was back in her snow-covered farmyard. It was well past noon when she ran into the farmhouse, but guess who was still curled up in bed, snoozing away????

BORIS: (ad-lib sleeping/snoring sounds)

OLGA: Boris! BORIS!

NARRATOR: Boris stretched and rubbed his eyes.

BORIS: Olga? Is that you? Where have you been? You abandoned me!

OLGA: It’s a long story. And I didn’t mean to “abandon” you. But check out what I’ve got!

NARRATOR: At the sight of Olga’s bucket, Boris’s bleary eyes became alert.

BORIS: Where did you get those coins?

OLGA: Believe it or not, they came from Granny Snowstorm!

BORIS: Oh come on. You know I never believed Mom and Dad’s stories.

OLGA: But I’m telling you, Boris. Granny Snowstorm is REAL! And she gave me these gold coins!

BORIS: Whatever FOR?

NARRATOR: Olga sat down on the bed and told Boris all about the fallen bucket, the magnificent garden, and Granny Snowstorm’s proposal.

OLGA: She said she’d give back my bucket if I shook her mattress. So I did, day after day. And after a while, she returned the bucket, and it was full of gold, and –

NARRATOR: But that’s all Boris heard. He had already jumped out of bed, bolted through the door, and sprinted to the farmyard in his bare feet.

BORIS: Man, it’s freezing out here! But who cares about the cold when I’m about to get cold hard cash?!

NARRATOR: Boris rummaged around the barn for a bucket, then hurled it over the edge of the well.

BORIS: (ad-lib sound of hurling bucket) Hyyyaahhh!

NARRATOR: After that, he hurled HIMSELF over the edge of the well!

BORIS: Cannonbaaaaall!!!!!!

NARRATOR: When he reached the bottom, he threw open the door and burst into the garden. After stomping and trampling across the flower beds, he yanked an apple from a tree and took a bite.

BORIS: (chewing) Mmmmm!

NARRATOR: Then he helped himself to a pear.

BORIS: (chewing) Yummmm!

NARRATOR: He was about to seize a handful of cherries when all of a sudden…

GRANNY: Who walks about my garden trampling my flowers? Who walks about my garden gobbling my fruit?

NARRATOR: Boris glanced up, and there was Granny Snowstorm.

BORIS: Since you asked, my name is Boris. I dropped my bucket and I want it back. My sister Olga told me you’ll return it if I shake your mattress?

NARRATOR: A knowing smile crossed Granny Snowstorm’s face.

GRANNY: Is that what she told you? Then of course! You’ll find the mattress in the bedroom at the end of the hall.

NARRATOR: Granny Snowstorm gestured toward the house. Without missing a beat, Boris raced through the front door and into the bedroom. But when he grabbed the mattress…

BORIS: Yikes! Olga didn’t tell me this mattress would be ICE-COLD! But I’d better shake it if I want my bucket of gold!

NARRATOR: So Boris gave the mattress a half-hearted shake…

BORIS: (ad-lib efforting sound of halfhearted shake)

NARRATOR: …then dropped it back on the bed.

He did the same thing the next day…

BORIS: (ad-lib efforting sound of halfhearted shake)

NARRATOR: …and the next day…

BORIS: (ad-lib efforting sound of halfhearted shake)

NARRATOR: …and the next.

BORIS: (ad-lib efforting sound of halfhearted shake)

NARRATOR: …until one day he happened to notice something that he hadn’t before:

The mirror on the wall.

BORIS: Woah! That must be the craziest mirror I’ve ever seen! Instead of the reflection of the room, I’m seeing… (gasp!) my village! The snow is gone, but there’s still frost in the air… and the people are up to their ankles in water and mud! I can hear them grumbling about the weather – especially the farmers! Something about the snow melting too soon? So the harvest will be poor? (beat) Whatever. Not MY problem. I’m about to get rich!

NARRATOR: Boris dashed out to the garden, where Granny Snowstorm was pruning some fruit trees.

BORIS: Granny Snowstorm? I’m done working for you. I’ve come to receive my payment.

GRANNY: Ohhh! You want your payment, do you? Come with me.

NARRATOR: There was a glint in the old woman’s eye as she handed Boris his bucket and guided him into a shed. Though it was small, it was chock full of treasures. Piles of gold… heaps of silver… Chests brimming with diamonds, sapphires and other sparkling gems.

GRANNY: You may help yourself to whatever you’d like, Boris… provided it can fit inside your bucket.

NARRATOR: Boris scurried around the shed with delight… weighing the gold in his hands… trying on silver necklaces and diamond-encrusted crowns. But he selected none of them. Instead, he pointed to a glimmering, shimmering pearl in the corner. It was as round and as large as a melon.

BORIS: That pearl! The really big, shiny one! That's what I want as my payment!

GRANNY: A fine choice, Boris. A most appropriate payment for the work you’ve done.

NARRATOR: Boris didn’t even say thank you. The moment Granny plonked the pearl into his bucket, he hightailed out of the shed and into the well. When he floated up to the surface, he found Olga working in the farmyard… with mud up to her knees.

BORIS: Olga! You must see the treasure I got from Granny Snowstorm!

NARRATOR: He plunged his hand into the bucket and drew out the pearl. But to his dismay, the gleaming sphere immediately began… to melt!

BORIS: What????

NARRATOR: Icy water streamed through Boris’s fingers and poured onto the ground as the pearl shrank smaller…

BORIS: Nooo!

NARRATOR: …and smaller…

BORIS: It can’t be!

NARRATOR: …until at last…

BORIS: (ad-lib MOAN)

NARRATOR: …it was gone.

For the pearl, you see, wasn’t actually a pearl.

It was – you guessed it – a snowball!

I’m happy to say the snowball wasn’t the only thing that melted that day. After a little time – and a lot of self-reflection – Boris's heart melted, too. He became kinder, friendlier, and much more willing to help Olga with chores around the farm.

And as winter turned to spring, and spring turned to summer, and summer turned to fall, the siblings thought about Granny Snowstorm, shaking her feather mattress to make a winter wonderland of the world.