Stories: Ageless Travelers Through Our Lives

“I’m so glad to have an opportunity to tell stories to older listeners,” I say to the group of elders gathered before me. “Traditionally, folktales were told by adults to other adults. Back before movies and television, storytelling was the primary form of entertainment. I’m happy to be able to share with you some of my favorite stories, ones I could never tell to little kids.” After these words of introduction, the seniors and I enter the world of story together, partners in the co-creation of tales. 

            Often, people stay after the program because the sponsors serves cookies and punch or some other kind of snack. I move from person to person, giving each the opportunity to respond to the program in an informal, intimate way. Inevitably, there are those who say, “I felt like a child again.” I hear this as the compliment it is intended to be. I feel that perhaps these words contain others: “I felt relaxed; my worries were gone as I listened; I felt as if my family/friends were around me.” There are people who share specific memories of some special relative, often a mother, who would read to them when they were young, or someone who was such a compelling teller of stories or anecdotes that everyone would crowd around to hear. These are the people who were most moved by the experience of listening to me tell stories.

            There are others who respond to the content of the stories. Often I’ve been asked to tell folktales that reflect the mixture of cultures in that audience, and thus it is that someone will tell me about a cherished Irish ritual that an Irish story brought to mind, or a description of a food from Norway that might have been served in the Norwegian folktale I told. There are also listeners with questions or theories about the characters, the events, or the endings of the stories. I’m always eager for such insights, because they inevitably enrich the next telling of that tale.

            One time I was hired by a senior center to tell “Stories of Gratitude” as part of a Thanksgiving celebration one week before the actual Thursday of Thanksgiving. I arrived to find a room filled with people, each served with a plate heaping with turkey, stuffing, potatoes, cranberry sauce: all the fixings of Thanksgiving. Once the dinner plates were cleared, I told my stories. Then everyone received a slice of pumpkin pie. While they ate their pie, I did my usual one-on-one visiting. A number of these seniors told me that they were grateful for the chance to hear my stories. And I, well I felt grateful to be a storyteller, to have the opportunity to share tales I love with those who discover anew the pleasures of listening to stories.