“I’m afraid to go to bed,” whimpered the child, “I’ll hear the meand noises.”
“Don’t be afraid,” whispered her mother, “the Taleweavers will keep you safe.”
“Taleweavers?” asked the sleepy little girl.
“The crickets who chirp under your window, the hummingbirds who hover by the feeder on the porch, the frogs that croak from the pond, the bees who dance on the flowers, the birds who wake you up in the morning… they are all the Taleweavers. They make music and their music covers the world.”
“How?”
“It’s carried by the wind, the oldest Taleweaver of all. She takes that music and collects the songs of other stortellers. Like the wolves and coyotes who share their stories with the moon and stars. And the whales, who sing their haunting poems deep in the ocean. And all of these songs and dances and stories are woven together to wrap around the world… around you… like a magic blanket.”
“How do you know?” yawned the sleepy child.
“Because Little One, I’m a Taleweaver too.”
And she sang her daughter to sleep with a lullaby.
Laurie Allen Klein 1992