19
Feb
2022

The Power of Storytelling

I’ve been thinking about storytelling. I’ll tell you my thoughts through a story…

My Grandma passed away a few years ago and my mom and her siblings have been slowly going through old photos, paperwork, etc. I recently got copies of my grandparents’ home video tapes so I can digitize them.

It’s been really fun to see more video clips from my childhood that I didn’t know existed (my parents didn’t own a video camera so we have very few videos from my childhood).

As I have watched bits and pieces of the videos, one part stood out to me in particular. It was the morning of my 8th birthday. Grandma and Grandpa Hall were at my house (and the reason why I even have this video footage) because I was getting baptized 3 days later. This particular video was of me opening my birthday presents in my parents’ room on my birthday morning.

But the part that really stood out to me happened right after this… I was standing next to Grandpa Hall and I reached over and put my arm around his neck and gave him a hug. I just stood there (partially sitting on his lap as well) and hugged him.

 

When I watched this part of the video, realizing that it was me, as a little child, I started to cry (good tears). I realized in that moment that I must have felt close to my Grandpa as a child….even closer than I may have realized at the time but that I can recognize a little more fully now. I don’t really know what I was like as a very little child, but I do feel that the older I got, the less physically affectionate I became with my family members (and I still struggle with this today).
I don’t know what caused this, but I feel like it’s a pretty common trait in my family of origin. We just aren’t very huggy people. But here I was in this video, feeling so bonded with my Grandpa that I voluntarily and naturally just threw my arms around him for no reason in particular, just sitting/standing there giving him a hug, with a big smile on my face.
The other day I was reading about Storytelling (specifically in a book called How to Tell Stories to Children). As I was reading I realized why I felt so close to my Grandpa Hall as a child… or at least one of the biggest reasons why…
He told me stories.
He made up “Little Brown Bear Stories” and told them to me and I loved it.
These stories weren’t anything fancy. They weren’t professional. I’m sure he was just making them up as he went. But he took the time to tell them to me. And he wove pieces of my life (my house, my dolls, my siblings, etc.) into the stories. He bridged reality and imagination with story.
This was a consistent thing whenever we were together. We lived a thousand miles apart so I didn’t see him very often, but when I did, he would always tell me Little Brown Bear stories.
This reminds me of a poem that I wrote when I was 16, as we were driving from Missouri to Utah to attend my Grandpa’s funeral…
Fun Times with Grandpa Hall
October 2004
Sitting on the lap of my Grandpa Hall,
I used to laugh, smile, and have a ball.
While I was sitting, he’d bounce me on his knee;
Then start to tell me Little Brown Bear stories.
Sometimes they’d be about picking berries;
Then the part about the little blue fairy.
Other times we’d go up to Goodnight Mountain,
Where we would pick dreams and drink from the fountain.
Little Brown Bear would come out into the light.
We would play, laugh and have fun all through the night.
We’d go to the doll house and swim in the pool;
Then we would have to go home and then to school.
After the stories, Grandpa and I would go outside;
He’d put me on the horse’s back to give me a ride.
Grandpa would lead the horse around, with me on it’s back;
Then he’d teach me to lead and how to cut the horse some slack.
After that, we’d take the dog, Tawney, for a walk.
We’d walk and walk until we had gone around the block.
Sometimes I wish that I could still sit on his knee;
But then I think about it, and hey, I’ve still got Eternity!
Those stories made a big impact on me in regards to my relationship with my Grandpa. I felt close to him because of those stories (and of course also because he was a really great, gentle, and kind person).
I put together this little video to capture my feelings of that moment when I was 8 and the stories my Grandpa would tell.

 

I want to become that kind of person with my kids. I want to use storytelling as a way to connect with my kids and to strengthen our bond.
“Storytelling is about the relationship, not the narrative.”
“The emotional bond that naturally arises from storytelling will be a lasting gift for you and your child.” (How to Tell Stories to Children, Introduction)
“When you tell a story, it’s you that you are giving to your child — your focus, love, and attention. … The goal is not a perfect story. The goal is connection.” (pg. 27)
“When a child says, “Tell me a story!” she is not asking for a narrative. She is asking for your attention. When that is fully given, stories begin to flow almost effortlessly. In time, this cycle of comfort, intimacy, and story will build your craft faster than any expert’s advice. You will no longer see storytelling as merely the repetition of a narrative, but as the sharing of an experience. When you tell a story from a place of intimacy and authenticity, your child will be eager to return to storyland — but more importantly, so will you.” (pg. 30)
I have loved listening to several episodes from the podcast How to Tell Stories to Children this week. It’s been inspiring and motivating. I have also enjoyed reading the book.
These are my favorite episodes so far…

 

“There are plenty of ways to begin and end your story in the imaginative world, but in this book we focus on taking an object or event from the real world into the narrative. By doing so, we help our children (and ourselves) bridge reality and imagination. In time, you might no longer need this strategy, but if you’re just beginning to tell stories, you’ll find that this simple practice opens up a rich source of material for exploration on both sides – reality and imagination. Story is the bridge.

Think of the journey — over the bridge and back again — as one loop. If we threaded a needle and brought it with us, we might find that we had made a stitch between reality and imagination. A practiced storyteller has made hundreds of such stitches in the fabric of reality. She has dozens of bridges, and she places them carefully, choosing locations that are appropriate for her child’s age and her family’s values. A child who has accompanied her on these journeys has no trouble crossing the bridge himself. He is continually weaving a dense fabric of imagination into the very real places and things in his home, his neighborhood, his town. He has ignited a curiosity that will last a lifetime. Such a child sees doors in even the most mundane of objects. You will too.” (pg. 8-9)

 

“A storyteller should begin to pay attention to her schedules and moods. When do stories flow most easily? When do they feel like hard work? It’s okay to say no when we’re tired.

Part of the excitement of storytelling is watching a storyteller who is captivated with his own story. It grabs our attention. We mirror his enthusiasm. We see it in his facial expressions and feel it in the tone of his voice. As Abraham Maslow and later psychologists have pointed out, the expression of creativity is essential to a person’s overall sense of well-being. A good storyteller, therefore, is enriched by his own process. He tells stories because he likes to tell stories, and he values the intimacy and connection they bring.” (pg. 31)

 

“When used well, these stories are one of the most potent parenting tools available — for soothing, entertaining, teaching, and more — because they draw strength from the cycle of intimacy we’ve been crafting for years.” (pg. 42)

 

I’ve been trying to be intentional about practicing my storytelling these past few days.  Here is an example of one little experience…

Roxanne asked me to braid her hair yesterday. As I was braiding, I just made up a quick little story about a gnome that was trying to climb a mountain but didn’t have any rope so he sprinkled some fairy dust and some strands of hair that was on the mountain started twisting and twisting together to form a rope (which was her braid) so he was able to climb the mountain. … but then he wanted to climb down the other side and didn’t have a rope so he sprinkled more fairy dust and another rope was formed through the twisting of the hairs on the mountain (her other braid) and he was able to climb back down.

It was such a simple little story but it made both of us smile. There have been a few times since then when we have passed each other and I have just said “remember that gnome?” and Roxanne just smiles at me and says yes. This morning when I asked her she said “yes and you are going to have to tell that story to me again because I want my hair braided again today.” 🙂

 

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