Under the ground, it was quiet.
Winter lay over the hill.
In the dark soil slept a little bamboo shoot.
He had slept all winter long.
He could not hear the wind.
He could not see the snow.
He only knew this place was warm.
He had a dream too.
In the dream he was a green leaf.
In the dream he waved in the sun.
Then spring came.
The rain fell.
The rain tapped on the soil.
Drip.
Drip.
The rain was soft.
It was warm.
Little puddles formed on the earth.
Something was calling him.
Little bamboo shoot.
Little bamboo shoot.
Wake up now.
Wake up now.
The bamboo shoot turned over.
He stretched.
He pushed up a little.
The soil was hard.
It pressed on his head.
He did not worry.
He pushed a little each day.
A little each day.
Push and push.
Push and push.
One small stone blocked his way.
So he went around it.
A worm asked if he wanted help.
He said he would do it himself.
One day he came out.
Outside was bright.
Outside was big.
He saw a row of bamboo.
They were tall and green.
They reached up to the sky.
They were the mother bamboo.
The mother bamboo bent down to look at him.
Then the wind came.
The bamboo leaves whispered.
Shhh.
Shhh.
It sounded like a song.
In China, in spring, people walk into the bamboo forest.
They dig for spring bamboo shoots.
A shoot is just a bamboo when it is small.
So the little shoot grew.
He grew a little taller.
Then a little taller.
He slipped off his old coat.
Then he slipped off another.
He did this four times.
Four old coats, left behind.
He grew strong.
Little lines came on his skin.
One line.
Then another.
They looked like tiny steps.
Like a small green ladder.
The sun went down.
The sky grew dark.
The wind stopped.
The bamboo leaves moved gently.
Like a small fan.
The birds went home.
The little bugs went home.
The forest grew quiet.
The little bamboo shoot was tired too.
He stood in the forest.
He was a little taller than yesterday.
That made him happy.
And it made him sleepy.
The moon came up.
The bamboo stood close together.
Row after row.
They went to sleep, all in a line.
They went to sleep all together.
Everything was still.
Everything was soft.
The forest at night had a sound.
It was very soft.
It was the sound of bamboo growing.
One line, then another.
It was too slow to hear.
While the little shoot slept, he grew.
Tomorrow morning he would be taller.
A little taller again.
The small grass slept too.
The small flowers slept too.
One leaf fell down.
It landed by his feet.
A few stars came out.
The stars looked at the forest.
Inside the forest, everyone was sleeping.
The mother bamboo stood close.
She kept the little shoot warm.
The wind did not blow.
The rain did not fall.
The night was kind.
The night was long.
The little shoot dreamed of green.
He dreamed of a hundred leaves.
He dreamed of standing tall.
He dreamed of swaying in the wind.
He dreamed of a warm spring day.
Then his dream grew quiet.
Then his dream grew soft.
Everything slowed down.
Everything got still.
A single bird slept on a branch.
It tucked its head under its wing.
The bugs slept under the stones.
The stones slept in the soil.
The soil slept under the hill.
The hill slept under the sky.
The sky held the moon.
The moon held the bamboo.
The bamboo held the little shoot.
Nothing was too heavy.
Nothing was too cold.
Everything could rest now.
Everything could sleep.
The whole forest breathed together.
In and out.
In and out.
It was a slow breath.
It was a calm breath.
Nobody woke up.
Nobody wanted to.
The night held them all.
The moon held them all.
The stars watched over them.
It was a good night.
It was a quiet night.
The little shoot slept on.
He did not know he was growing.
He just grew.
That is the way of bamboo.
That is the way of spring.
Tomorrow would be bright.
Tomorrow would be green.
That is the old story of the little bamboo shoot.
It is a gentle Chinese folktale.
It is also a Chinese fairy tale, and one of the oldest Chinese bedtime stories for children.
Now it is time to close your eyes.
Good night, little bamboo shoot.
Good night, bamboo forest.
This is a very old Chinese bedtime story. It is not long, and it is very gentle. Best read slowly, with the lights low.
