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Pedagogical Project
The Joy of Reading
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JOY OF READING
Dear Sir/Madam,
The team responsible for the Project "Joy of Reading" consists of a group of
people dedicated to raise the joy of reading stories. For some years now, the
team involved in the project has worked together with schools, libraries, and
foster centres, as well as other places, to encourage the love of reading among
people of all ages and to promote literacy. So we decided to share stories via
email on a weekly basis with everyone who is interested in receiving them.
The project consists of 2 weekly stories, sent by e-mail one for a young and
adult audience and another one shorter and more suitable for early ages. Each
story is about values such as peace, solidarity, respect, gentleness, and
responsibility, among others, while also working as a reflection on the
fundamental ethical principles of the world we all live in.
Below you can read 2 stories and take your time to enjoy them or you can read
them in the PDF attachment where they are written in colourful fonts and with
pictures.
If you are interested in receiving 2 stories every week in your email, you will
have to subscribe to it by replying to this email saying I would like to
subscribe to the Joy of Reading Project. If you dont subscribe this week, you
will stop receiving the story.
The subscription is totally free of charge and you can unsubscribe when you
want to. We also assure you that your email address will remain strictly
confidential.
The Joy of Reading team
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If you are interested in receiving the weekly story, click here.
If you donât want to receive the weekly story, click here.
If you prefer, you can reply to this email or to stories...@gmail.com with the
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This weeks stories with PDF attachments:
- THE ROYAL BEE
- ZIGZAG
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THE ROYAL BEE
AUTHORS' NOTE
The Royal Bee was inspired by the true story of our grandfather; Hong Seung
Han, when he was an illiterate boy in late nineteenth-century Korea. Too poor
to attend school, he would eavesdrop at the door of the rich children's
schoolhouse until he was eventually allowed to attend. After he won a national
academic contest, the Governor of his province invited him to reside in the
palace. There, he tutored the Governor's young son while continuing his
education.
Years later our grandfather attended seminary in Pyongyang under the teachings
of an American missionary and became a prominent church minister. In 1905 he
wed our grandmother; Pang Seung Hwa. Together they became missionaries in China.
***
In the days when kings ruled Korea, only the privileged yangban children went
to school. They wore fine clothing and carried handsome books. They competed in
The Royal Bee at the Governor's palace. They grew up to be scholars and
noblemen. Song-ho was not among the privileged. He was a sangmin boy dressed in
rags. But the distant sound of a school bell made him dream of the day when he
could read books and write poetry.
Song-ho watched his mother wash her tired face in a bowl of water as the meager
dawn light worked its way into their small hut. She stood over Song-ho and
murmured, "Be good today." "I will do all my chores," Song-ho promised. Then
she was off into the autumn cornfields. Song-ho's father had been a fisherman,
but he died at sea years ago. Song-ho's mother worked as a farmhand harvesting
whatever crop was in season to put food on the table. If she was lucky, she
would bring home an armload of wilted fruits or vegetables. Song-ho began his
morning chores. He swept the hut, soaked soybeans for supper, and washed rags
in the mountain stream.
As Song-ho squeezed the last rag in the stream, the sound of a bell rang deep
in the valley where many yangbans lived. Ding dong, ding dong. This was the
sound of the school bell from The Sodang School!
Ding dong, ding dong, the school bell rang as Song-ho carried the wet rags back
to the hut. Ding dong, ding dong, the sound echoed in his ears.
As if the bell were calling him, Song-ho followed it deep into the valley. At
last he came upon The Sodang School, surrounded by golden rain trees. The
school was more beautiful than he ever imagined. The bell was now still and
silent for study time. Song-ho tiptoed toward the rice-paper door.
The shadow of a master giving instruction to a roomful of yangban pupils rose
before him. Suddenly, the door slid open.
The master towered over Song-ho in the doorway. He stroked his long, silvery
beard. "I am Master Min. What brings you here, child?"
"I am Song-ho. May I be your pupil?" the boy eagerly inquired.
Master Min looked down at Song-ho in his rags and frowned. "No, that is not
possible."
"How can I grow up to earn a good living for my mother when I cannot read or
write?" Song-ho begged for an answer.
The boy's bravery brought a lump to Master Min's throat. But rules were rules,
and sangmins were not allowed to attend The Sodang School.
"Go home, Song-ho," Master Min said, sliding the door closed.
But Song-ho did not budge. He kept his ear to the door and listened to Master
Min's lesson. Little did Song-ho know that Master Min could see his small,
huddling shadow through the door! But Master Min was a man with a kind heart.
He took pity on Song-ho and allowed him to stay outside during the lesson.
Song-ho learned about ancient kingdoms and great leaders. He learned about The
Royal Bee, which was held every spring in The Great Hall at the Governor's
palace. Only one pupil from each school across the land would be chosen to
compete in this contest of knowledge.
That evening Song-ho spooned soybean soup into a bowl for his mother. She ate
her soup as the steam warmed her weary face.
"My poor Song-ho! How I wish I could give you more in this world than spotted
ears of corn."
Song-ho did not tell his mother about his adventure at The Sodang School.
Someday he would surprise her with all that he had learned. Later Song-ho
shucked the spotted ears of corn, thinking: If I learn how to read and write, I
will give my mother golden ears of corn.
Every day Song-ho returned to The Sodang School, following the sound of the
bell deep into the valley. He would hide behind a golden rain tree until all
the finely dressed yangban pupils were inside, until the school bell grew still
and silent.
Every day the sight of Song-ho's shadow at the door brought a tear to Master
Min's eye. Every day he delivered his lesson loud and clear.
Winter arrived. Icicles hung from the bare branches of the golden rain trees at
The Sodang School. Song-ho huddled by the door, bent and shivering. His ears
were so frozen, he could hardly hear Master Min's lesson. Suddenly, the door
slid open. "Come in, Song-ho," Master Min commanded him. Song-ho stepped into a
roomful of yangban pupils. They gasped at the sight of the boy in rags.
"Song-ho has been very sneaky," Master Min explained. "He has been listening to
our lessons. We must put his eavesdropping to a test."
"Who was the father of our alphabet?" one yangban pupil questioned Song-ho.
"King Sejong," Song-ho answered.
"What is the largest island of our country?" another yangban pupil asked.
"Cheju Island," Song-ho replied.
After each yangban pupil in the classroom had tested Song-ho, Master Min spoke:
"Welcome to The Sodang School, Song-ho."
The yangban pupils respectfully bowed their heads and chorused, "Welcome to The
Sodang School."
That evening Song-ho spooned soybean soup into a bowl for his mother. She had
spent her whole day collecting chestnuts from the ground. Now she drooped with
despair. "My poor Song-ho! How I wish I could give you more in this world than
cracked chestnuts."
Later Song-ho roasted a pan of cracked chestnuts, thinking: If I learn how to
read and write, I will give my mother perfect chestnuts!
Spring arrived. As the golden rain trees bloomed gracefully at The Sodang
School, Song-ho learned how to read books from cover to cover. He learned how
to dip a delicate paintbrush into a black ink stone and write beautiful poetry
on white scroll paper.
Song-ho became a prize pupil.
One morning Master Min asked Song-ho to stand before the class. "You have been
chosen by your classmates to represent The Sodang School in The Royal Bee,"
Master Min announced.
Song-ho could not believe his ears!
Master Min proudly presented Song-ho with a bundle of silk. "A gift from your
classmates."
"A gift to wear to The Royal Bee!" hailed the yangban classmates. "A gift of
good luck'"
Song-ho slowly untied the bundle. Out tumbled a colorful ceremonial costume,
sparkling like a mountain of jewels. Song-ho bowed his head in thanks.
That evening Song-ho spooned soybean soup into a bowl for his mother. She had
just returned from a long day in the melon fields. "My poor Song-ho! How I wish
I could give you more in this world than bruised melons."
Later Song-ho sliced the bruised melons, thinking: If I win The Royal Bee, I
will give my mother sweet melons!
The morning of The Royal Bee arrived! The Governor's palace stood among
mountains that touched the sky. In his ceremonial costume of deep green and
shimmering pink, Song-ho walked with Master Min through the iron gates. They
entered The Great Hall.
Master Min escorted Song-ho to a large gathering of yangban pupils who stood
before a panel of judges. Then Master Min took his place in the audience.
A hush came over the palace as the Governor made his entrance with the help of
a pearl-studded cane. From his royal seat he proclaimed: "Welcome to The Royal
Bee! The judges will test you from their Book of Knowledge. A wrong answer and
you will fall out of the contest. When The Royal Bee is over, only one pupil
will remain standing â the number one pupil in the land!"
One by one the pupils were asked questions by the panel of judges. One by one
the pupils began to fall out of The Royal Bee. Hours later, only two pupils
remained. One of the pupils was Song-ho!
"What mountain has twelve thousand rocky peaks?" one judge questioned Song-ho.
"Diamond Mountain," Song-ho answered.
"What Far East country borders Korea?" another judge asked the yangban pupil.
"China," the yangban pupil replied.
The Royal Bee went on and on. Darkness fell over the palace. The audience grew
restless, and the judges ran out of questions. Finally, the Governor stood up
and spoke: "There is only one way to decide the winner of The Royal Bee. Each
of you must answer this question: What does winning The Royal Bee mean to you?
When the moon shines into The Great Hall, you must deliver your answer."
When the moon shone in The Great Hall, the yangban pupil stepped forward.
"I have studied all year long to compete in The Royal Bee, Great Governor. If I
win I will follow in my ancestors' footsteps. I will attend the finest schools
and grow up to be a famous scholar'"
The audience clapped politely.
Now it was Song-ho's turn. He took a nervous step forward and began to speak:
My mother works in the fields
Every day from dawn to dusk,
Knowing in her heart there is
No hope for people like us.
Then Master Min took me in
And broke the honored rule.
He let a sangmin boy like me
Attend The Sodang School.
He taught me how to read and write
And I am at The Royal Bee!
The gift of hope has now been won
For my poor mother and me.
Like the full moon, silence filled The Great Hall. Then the audience rose to
its feet and clapped so thunderously that The Great Hall seemed to shake!
Master Min shed tears of joy as the Governor declared Song-ho the winner of The
Royal Bee.
"You have shown great courage by speaking the truth, Song-ho," the Governor
stated.
A royal ceremony followed. The Governor presented Song-ho with a prize cow
draped with silk and a necklace of glittery gold coins.
The hour was late when Song-ho made his journey home with his prize cow. Across
the mountains he could hear his mother calling him.
"Song-ho! Song-ho! Where are you?"
Tonight Song-ho would surprise his mother with all that he had learned at The
Sodang School. And how he had won The Royal Bee! And a prize cow! And silk! And
gold coins!
Just then the sound of a bell rang deep in the valley. Ding dong, ding dong.
This was the sound of the school bell from The Sodang School. In honor of
Song-ho! Ding dong, ding dong, the school bell rang as Song-ho hurried back to
the hut. Ding dong, ding dong, the sound echoed in his ears.
Frances Park, Ginger Park and Christopher Zhong-Yuan Zhang
The royal bee
Pennsylvania, Boyds Mills Press, 2000
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ZIGZAG
Ill name you Zigzag, said the dollmaker, as she finished sewing her new
dolls mouth.
He was made of scraps. He was odd-looking, with spiky hair, patchwork clothes
and tiny wings.
His zigzag mouth made him look sad, but something about him made the dollmaker
smile.
The dollmaker put Zigzag on a shelf with the other dolls.
Some child will love you, she told him.
Then she put out the lights and closed her shop for the night.
That night the toys woke and stared at the strange new doll.
What mother would buy that awful thing for her child? wondered the lion.
The penguin agreed, Hed give a little boy or girl nightmares.
Im just special, Zigzag insisted.
Youre just ugly, the elephant snorted.
The other dolls began to laugh. Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho!
Hee-hee-hee! they roared, You are so very UG-ly!
The bunnies began to chant, Squeeze him out! Squeeze him out! Squeeze him out!
All the dolls helped the bunnies push Zigzag off the shelf.
As Zigzag fell, he tumbled past the stuffed satin pots thumpty-thump right into
the wastebasket.
When the dollmaker opened her shop the next morning, all the dolls sat silently
as if nothing had happened.
Then she emptied the wastebasket into the dustbin behind her shop.
That night, Zigzag struggled out of the dustbin.
Some child will love me, he told himself, remembering what the dollmaker had
said.
While crossing the park, he heard, Who? Who? Who? from a treetop.
Im Zigzag, he answered.
A hunting owl swooped down and carried Zigzag high into the sky, thinking he
might make a good dinner.
But when he realized Zigzag was a doll, he let him go.
Zigzag fell into a meadow of thick, soft grass. As he brushed himself off,
whispery voices asked, Who are you?
Im Zigzag, he said.
Three field mice crept out of the grass.
Why are you here? they asked.
Im looking for a child to love me, he said.
The mice took him to wise Papa Mouse.
I want to find a child to love me, Zigzag told him.
Our cousins live in a house nearby, said Papa. The little girl there feeds
them bread and cheese.
She sounds just like the kind of child Im looking for, said Zigzag.
My children will take you there, said Papa Mouse. But watch out for the
hungry owl.
So off they went.
Suddenly the owl flew down to see what made the meadow grass move.
Up jumped Zigzag, shouting, Remember me?
Silly doll, the owl screeched. And he flew away without ever seeing the
little mice.
The windows of the little girls house were dark. Everyone was asleep. With the
mices help, Zigzag climbed the steps to the front porch.
Do you think the little girl will like me? he asked.
She will love you, the mice promised.
The next morning, the little girl found Zigzag sitting on her porch. She hugged
him and took him to her room. There she sat him at a toy table, served him cups
of tea and told him funny stories.
Ive finally found someone to love me, Zigzag thought.
And his sad-looking zigzag mouth turned into a smile of joy.
Robert San Souci; Stefan Czernecki
Zig Zag
London, Tradewind Books Limited, 2005
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