It was almost the new year.
Every family was busy.
Every window had a red paper cut on it.
The days were cold.
The wind blew down the lane.
Snow fell outside the window.
It fell all afternoon.
The lane turned white.
His mother was in the kitchen, folding dumplings.
The kitchen was warm.
The dumplings sat in a neat row.
Little Stone sat by the warm stove.
He watched the fire.
The fire made small sounds.
He asked: Mother, what is the new year?
His mother said: the new year is when the family is all together.
Little Stone liked that answer.
He thought about it for a while.
Then the sky went dark.
The lamps came on.
A red lantern hung by the door.
It was round and bright.
It swayed a little in the wind.
Little Stone was ready for bed.
He had washed his face.
He had put on his warm clothes.
They were soft and red.
His mother took out a piece of red paper.
His mother put eight old coins inside the red paper.
The coins were small and round.
His mother folded the paper up.
She put the little red packet under his pillow.
The pillow was soft.
The packet made a tiny lump.
Little Stone asked: what is this?
His mother said: this is lucky money.
Little Stone asked: why under my pillow?
His mother sat down and told him a story.
She made her voice soft.
Long, long ago.
There was a small shadow.
It was not big and it was not strong.
It only wanted a warm place.
It did not mean to be unkind.
Its name was Sui.
People did not like it much.
It liked to come out at night.
It touched the heads of sleeping children.
It was a small, cold touch.
A child it touched slept badly all night.
The child turned and turned in the bed.
By morning the child was fine again.
But in the night, the child always cried.
The mother would come and hold the child.
The child would fall asleep again.
But the mother did not sleep well.
People thought about this for a long time.
They tried many things.
Then one mother found a way.
She was a quiet mother.
She had watched many nights.
She wrapped eight old coins in red paper.
She used the brightest paper she had.
She put the packet under the pillow of her child.
That night, the red paper shone.
It shone under the pillow.
The light blinked, red and small.
The little shadow saw it.
It feared the red colour.
The colour was too bright for it.
It feared the light.
It slipped quietly away.
It went back to the dark.
That night, the child slept well.
The mother watched for a while.
Then she slept too.
Later, everyone learned to do the same.
Every new year, mothers gave their children a red packet.
It was small, and it was enough.
With the packet under the pillow, the children were not afraid.
The story was over.
The kitchen was quiet now.
Little Stone felt under his pillow.
His fingers found the paper.
The red packet was warm.
It felt good in his hand.
His mother said: sleep now.
His mother turned the lamp down low.
The light was soft and low.
Outside, the snow still fell.
Flakes landed on the windowsill, one by one.
They made no sound at all.
Little Stone closed his eyes.
He thought: Sui will not come.
The room was warm.
And even if it comes, I have the red packet.
He smiled a little.
Then he stopped smiling and just breathed.
The blanket was heavy and warm.
His mother was in the next room.
He could hear her moving about.
Then he could not hear anything.
Under his pillow, the red packet was still and quiet.
The whole house was quiet.
Only the snow moved.
It moved very slowly.
In China, this is why children find a red packet under the pillow on New Year night.
That is the old story of the lucky money.
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 Stone.
Good night, red packet under the pillow.
This is a very old Chinese bedtime story. It is not long, and it is very gentle. Best read slowly, with the lights low.
