Fairy Tales of All Things

This book is a poetic book， a book of life， and a book of nature. The writer uses curious eyes and fairytale-like language to write about the ordinary things around him and discover the poetic beauty of all things.

Xiao Dingli

Xiao Dingli is a member of the Chinese Writers Association. He has published more than 100 works of children’s literature. He has won the 5th National Book Award， the 5th and 6th National Outstanding Children’s Book Awards， the Bingxin Children’s Literature New Work Award， and the Bingxin Book Award.

The Sound Collector

A child took a brown glass bottle into the forest to collect various sounds. He repeatedly lifted the soft cap of the bottle， capturing the chirping of birds， the buzzing of insects， the rustling of the wind， the patter of rain， and the flowing of water， along with the calls of cows， sheep， pigs， and chickens. He filled the bottle to the brim and took it home.

At night， before bed， the child gently removed the cap and held the bottle to his ear to listen carefully. As he listened， a smile spread across his lips; slowly， he drifted into a dream.

The child moved through the forest like the wind， shining upon it like starlight.

Did the forest dream of the child， or did the child dream of the forest？

The glass bottle rested by the child’s ear， spilling out sounds all night long. He had collected those sounds throughout the entire day， and it would take an entire night for them to flow out completely.

The Wind-Listening Cat

The cat sat on the windowsill， eyes closed， sniffing the passing breeze.

With a whiff of the wind， the cat could tell who walked by the window， who leaned against a tree chatting， who was scurrying through the grass， and who was hiding by the wall， secretly nibbling on snacks.

The cat didn’t go anywhere; just by sitting at the window. It knew many secrets.

A Toast of Flowers

In the vast flower garden， the cosmos blooms with petals of every color， showcasing the hues of autumn， kindness， gratitude， and a sweet heart. It lifts its cups high， calling out fervently：

The Sun， cheers！

The Moon， cheers！

Clouds， cheers！

Bees， cheers！

Butterflies， cheers！

Sparrows， cheers！

The cosmos cups clink and clank， the fragrance of flowers rich like fine wine， intoxicating the passing breeze， make it sway and dance.

The Joyful Door

Whether open or closed， this door always sings with a creak and a squeak.

Creak—

Why not sing？ When it’s open， you can see the world outside; when it’s closed， you discover many secrets. Opening has its joys， and closing has its wonders.

This is a door that knows how to be happy.

I’m so glad to know this door and to live within it.

Big Happiness or Little Happiness

Little sister asked Grandpa：

“Are people happy to have one big happiness or many little happinesses？”

Grandpa replied：

“Well， when a person has one big happiness， they still want many little ones; and when they have many little happinesses， they still want one big one.”

Sister didn’t understand Grandpa’s words， so she lay down on the ground and played nose-to-nose with the puppy.

A Chair That Loves to Laugh

I can’t remember whose house it was， but there’s one chair that left a deep impression on me.

At that house， there was a chair that loved to laugh. The moment you sat down， it would creak and chuckle non-stop. Yes， that’s how it laughed— creaking and chuckling until the chair’s backrest， seat， hind legs， front legs， and all its joints scattered all over the floor， laughing the person sitting on it right off！

The owner had to find a carpenter to reassemble the chair， and to prevent accidents， they hammered in some nails and tightened screws.

But would that stop it from laughing？

Ha！ It laughed even harder！

The backrest， seat， hind legs， front legs， and all the joints， nails， and screws would scatter everywhere until the person sitting on it would fall flat on their back.

It didn’t matter whether a cat sat on it or a person; it was always the same.

It was just a chair that was born to laugh， and no one could do anything about it.

What an amusing chair—it’s something I can never forget.

The Mist-riding Carp

In the blue lake， there lives a red carp that often rides the mist to fly over to the mountain peak. There， it presses against the stones， transforming into a stone fish， completely still as it gazes at the scenery. When the mist rolls in again， the red carp rides the fog back to the blue lake， becoming a fish that swims to and fro. As soon as it returns， all the fish and shrimp gather around from all directions.

The red carp shares the views and stories it has seen and heard from the mountain peak with the fish in the blue lake. Naturally， when it flies to the mountain， it also tells the animals there about the sights and stories of the blue lake.

Whether in the blue lake or on the mountain， it is equally beloved.

The red carp is the wisest fish， possessing a unique ability that others do not， often riding the mist to fly here and there.

The Night Choir

On the autumn nights at the elementary school， when all the students have gone home， the cool air is perfect for the cricket choir to showcase their talents.

Yes， just the other day， the crickets formed their night choir. However， on their first trial night， the school’s watch dog insisted on joining in， wanting to be the lead singer because it believed its voice was the highest and brightest. The crickets agreed to give it a try：

“Chirp—chirp—chirp—”

Just as the crickets reached this point， the watch dog chimed in：

“Woof—woof—woof—”

As soon as the dog sang， the cricket choir’s voices were completely drowned out.

The crickets were unhappy： “Let’s not call ourselves the cricket choir anymore; we might as well call it the watch dog solo！”

The dog scratched its ear and lowered its voice， providing a bass accompaniment， which finally satisfied the crickets. But the watch dog felt it wasn’t really singing at all. It dared not open its mouth fully， only managing a faint sound from its throat， as if something hurt， almost like a whimper. It decided to abandon the choir altogether and picked up a chew stick， acting as the conductor instead.

Under the starry sky， the cricket choir sang， their voices making the autumn night feel more distant and tranquil.

The crickets sang and sang， tirelessly. Meanwhile， the watch dog， not so passionate about singing， grew weary.

It could no longer hold up the chew stick， its eyelids drooping until， with a nod of its head， it finally fell asleep.

Without the watch dog’s conducting， the crickets sang even more harmoniously and beautifully. Their melodies became the watch dog’s lullaby.

The Night of the Frightened Moon

Tonight， the moon is quite different from usual; it’s not calm but wandering in the sky.

In fact， a terrifying sound echoed through the mountain forest at midnight.

Was it a beast， a strange bird， or some mysterious creature？ The moon， frightened， turned pale and tried to hide.

With no clouds in the sky， people on the ground saw the moon moving and thought it was just wandering about.

No one imagined that the moon could feel fear. It has moments of joy and sadness; it can be brave （standing high in the sky takes a lot of courage） and timid （especially when it hears frightening sounds）.

Everyone is accustomed to the moon’s stillness， and even the slightest swaying seems incredible.

Who will find that terrifying sound and put an end to its eerie calls？

When the moon remains quietly in the sky， only then can people’s hearts find peace and tranquility.

Everyone is accustomed to the moon’s stillness， and even the slightest swaying seems incredible.

Who will find that terrifying sound and put an end to its eerie calls？

When the moon remains quietly in the sky， only then can people’s hearts find peace and tranquility.