Speaker 1: Welcome to bedtime stories for grown ups in which nothing
Speaker 1: much happens, you feel good, and then you fall asleep.
Speaker 1: All stories are written and read by me, Katherine Nikolay,
Speaker 1: with audio engineering by Bob Wittersheim. Nothing Much Happens is
Speaker 1: a proud member of the curious Cast podcast network. If
Speaker 1: you enjoy our stories, please share them any way you
Speaker 1: can with anyone you know who likes relaxation and good sleep,
Speaker 1: and follow us on Facebook and Instagram and Twitter for
Speaker 1: some extra coziness. Sometimes, even when our bodies are ready
Speaker 1: for sleep, our minds aren't. They race and wander and
Speaker 1: keep us up or wake us back up after too
Speaker 1: little sleep. That's where I come in. I'll tell you
Speaker 1: a story, and as you listen, your busy mind will
Speaker 1: slow and relax, and before too long you'll be peacefully asleep.
Speaker 1: I'll tell the story twice, and I'll go a little
Speaker 1: slower the second time through. If you wake again in
Speaker 1: the night, go right back to whatever you can remember
Speaker 1: about the story, any detail or image, and your brain
Speaker 1: will quiet right back down. We're habituating a response in
Speaker 1: your system, So the more you do this, the more
Speaker 1: quickly and easily you will find sleep. Now turn off
Speaker 1: the light, no more screens. Slide down into your sheets,
Speaker 1: and get as comfortable as you can. Take a slow,
Speaker 1: deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth. Good,
Speaker 1: do that one more time. Breathe in and out. Her
Speaker 1: story tonight is called Coffee on the Stoop or How
Speaker 1: to Have a Better Day, and it's a story about
Speaker 1: a day devoted to small acts of kindness. It's also
Speaker 1: about a kittie sleeping in a window, paints and brushes
Speaker 1: and flower seeds, and the awe that we feel when
Speaker 1: a stranger reaches out to do us a good turn.
Speaker 1: Coffee on the Stoop or How to Have a Better Day.
Speaker 1: There was a bright pink band of light across the
Speaker 1: morning sky, and it was starting to shift to peachy
Speaker 1: orange and break apart into patches as I watched. My
Speaker 1: coffee sat beside me, steaming in the air on the
Speaker 1: front stoop, and the roasty, rich smell mixed with the
Speaker 1: green scent of grass and growing gardens. We'd had warmer
Speaker 1: days in the last few weeks, but we hadn't had
Speaker 1: a warm morning until today. And somehow I had woken
Speaker 1: up knowing it. Maybe I could smell it through the
Speaker 1: tiny crack in the window, or maybe I could hear
Speaker 1: the birds singing differently in the warm air. But before
Speaker 1: I opened my eyes, I knew the morning would be
Speaker 1: sweet and warm and bright, and it was. I sat
Speaker 1: with no plans, sipping slowly and watching the sky change
Speaker 1: across the street. I watched my neighbor's kitty, a Siamese
Speaker 1: with fawn fir and deep brown streaks around her eyes
Speaker 1: and ears, pace across the top of the sofa in
Speaker 1: her front window. Eventually she sat, and I watched her
Speaker 1: watch the birds moving through the branches of the trees
Speaker 1: on her street. I was on my second cup when
Speaker 1: I finally saw it, A smudged scrap of paper tucked
Speaker 1: under the corner of an empty flower pot on the
Speaker 1: top step of the porch. I lifted an eyebrow and
Speaker 1: just puzzled at it for a moment. Had I left
Speaker 1: something there? Maybe I dropped a piece of mail, or
Speaker 1: a shopping list had fallen out of my pocket. I
Speaker 1: shifted the pot and smiled down at an inked note.
Speaker 1: Flowers for your porch, it said. Under the note, I
Speaker 1: found three packs of seeds, all flowers, different types and
Speaker 1: different colors. I laughed, a bit and picking them up,
Speaker 1: looked up and down the street, as though the gift
Speaker 1: giver might still be there and watching me. It reminded
Speaker 1: me suddenly of an old friend of mine who was
Speaker 1: an expert's stealth giver. She had once hidden some small
Speaker 1: trinket she'd seen me admire in an empty mason jar
Speaker 1: in the back of my cupboard. It had taken me
Speaker 1: weeks to find it, But when I had late one night,
Speaker 1: in pajamas and slippers, looking for a snack, I felt
Speaker 1: like I'd been given something magical, more than the trinket
Speaker 1: she'd given me, the gift of amazement. I looked down
Speaker 1: at the seeds, shaking them in their paper packets to
Speaker 1: hear the satisfying rattle, and felt that same feeling. Now,
Speaker 1: what if I thought I tried to amaze a few
Speaker 1: people today? I carried my cup and the seeds back
Speaker 1: inside and made some plans. I'd baked off a batch
Speaker 1: of muffins the day before, full of poppy seeds and lemon.
Speaker 1: I put a few in an old cooky tin and
Speaker 1: tied a ribbon around it. I had a neighbor up
Speaker 1: the street who I'd seen in the library a few
Speaker 1: days before. They were in the last semester of their degree,
Speaker 1: and they'd been sitting with a tall stack of books
Speaker 1: and reams of notes all around them. I tucked a
Speaker 1: note in the tin study snacks. It said, A few
Speaker 1: minutes later. I snucked the tin on to their front
Speaker 1: porch and ducked down the street toward the shops and
Speaker 1: cafes on the corner. I noticed a parking meter timed
Speaker 1: out in front of the grocery and slipped a few
Speaker 1: coins in from my pocket. I bought a small bouquet
Speaker 1: of daisies and daffodils and carried them into the bookstore.
Speaker 1: There was a tall shelf of historical fiction in the back,
Speaker 1: and I slipped the flowers into a gap at the
Speaker 1: end of a row. I left a note there too,
Speaker 1: It just said for you. I walked through the park
Speaker 1: and picked up a few pieces of litter and left
Speaker 1: a quarter in the feed dispenser for the ducks. A
Speaker 1: dad with two little ones was juggling juice boxes, and
Speaker 1: I stopped for a second to help tie a shoe
Speaker 1: and open a pack of crackers. When you start to
Speaker 1: look for ways to brighten in someone's day, or lightened
Speaker 1: someone's load. Suddenly they are all around you. I held
Speaker 1: a door, I retrieved a dropped pencil. I took a
Speaker 1: picture of a dog sitting outside of a shop and
Speaker 1: sent it to a friend I hadn't heard from in
Speaker 1: a while. I pointed a delivery man in the right direction.
Speaker 1: I lobbed an errant ball back into the schoolyard. I
Speaker 1: just smiled and slowed down. I thought that rushing was
Speaker 1: likely contagious, and even just showing up wherever I was
Speaker 1: with some calm and ease was a way to help.
Speaker 1: On my way back home, I stopped at the mailbox
Speaker 1: of the house across the street and slipped in a
Speaker 1: package of toy mice stuffed with catnip. She watched me
Speaker 1: from her spot on the back of the sofa. She
Speaker 1: stopped her bath and treated me to a quick flick
Speaker 1: of the tail. Back In my own place, I laid
Speaker 1: out some newspapers on the kitchen table and got ready
Speaker 1: to plant my flower seeds. I had stopped at a
Speaker 1: little art shop and bought some pretty bright paints and
Speaker 1: tiny brushes. I dusted off the pots and brightened them
Speaker 1: up with the paints, sharp lines and a few words.
Speaker 1: I spooned potting mix in and sewed a few seeds
Speaker 1: in each. I mixed the seeds up so each pot
Speaker 1: would have a rainbow of colors. I watered them gently
Speaker 1: from the tap and set them out in saucers. Back
Speaker 1: on the front stoop, I had painted a message on
Speaker 1: with my brushes, and I turned them out to the
Speaker 1: street so my gift giver could read it when they
Speaker 1: passed by. They said, thank you friend, Coffee on the
Speaker 1: stoop or how to have a better day. There was
Speaker 1: a bright pink band of light across the morning sky,
Speaker 1: and it was starting to shift to peachy orange and
Speaker 1: break into patches as I watched. My coffee sat beside me,
Speaker 1: steaming in the air on the front stoop, and the roasty,
Speaker 1: rich smell mixed with a green scent of grass and
Speaker 1: growing gardens. We'd had warmer days in the last few weeks,
Speaker 1: but we hadn't had a warm morning until today. And
Speaker 1: somehow I'd woken up knowing it. Maybe I could smell
Speaker 1: it through the tiny crack in the window, or maybe
Speaker 1: I could hear the birds singing differently in the warm air.
Speaker 1: Before I opened my eyes, I knew the morning would
Speaker 1: be sweet and warm and bright. And it was. I
Speaker 1: sat with no plans, sipping slowly and watching the sky
Speaker 1: change across the street. I watched my neighbor's kitty, a
Speaker 1: Siamese with fawn fur and deep brown streaks around her
Speaker 1: eyes and ears, pace across the top of the sofa
Speaker 1: in her front window. Eventually she sat, and I watched
Speaker 1: her watch the birds moving through the branches of the
Speaker 1: old trees on our street. I was on my second
Speaker 1: cup when I finally saw it, A smudged scrap of
Speaker 1: paper tucked under the corner of an empty flower pot
Speaker 1: on the top step of the porch. I lifted an
Speaker 1: eyebrow and just puzzled at it for a moment. Had
Speaker 1: I left something there? Maybe I'd dropped a piece of mail,
Speaker 1: or a shopping list had fallen out of my pocket.
Speaker 1: I shifted the pot and smiled down at an inked note.
Speaker 1: Flowers for your porch, it said. Under the note, I
Speaker 1: found three packs of seeds, all flowers, different types and
Speaker 1: different colors. I laughed a bit, and picking them up,
Speaker 1: looked up and down the street as though the gift
Speaker 1: giver might still be there and watching me. It reminded
Speaker 1: me suddenly of an old friend of mine, who was
Speaker 1: an expert stealth giver. She had once hidden some small
Speaker 1: trinket she'd seen me admire in an empty mason jar
Speaker 1: in the back of my cupboard. It had taken me
Speaker 1: weeks to find it. But when I had late one
Speaker 1: night in pajamas and slippers looking for a snack, I
Speaker 1: felt like I'd been given something magical, more than the
Speaker 1: trinket she'd given me, the gift of amazement. I looked
Speaker 1: down at the seeds, shaking them in their paper packets
Speaker 1: to hear the satisfying rattle, and felt that same feeling. Now,
Speaker 1: what if I thought I tried to amaze a few
Speaker 1: people to day? I carried my cup and the seeds
Speaker 1: back inside and made some plans. I'd baked off a
Speaker 1: batch of muffins the day before, full of poppy seeds
Speaker 1: and lemon. I put a few in an old cooky
Speaker 1: tin and tied a ribbon around it. I had a
Speaker 1: neighbor up the street who'd i'd seen in the library
Speaker 1: a few days before. They were in the last semester
Speaker 1: of their degree, and they'd been sitting with a tall
Speaker 1: stack of books and reams of notes all around them.
Speaker 1: I tucked a note in the tin steady snacks, it said.
Speaker 1: A few minutes later, I snucked the tin on to
Speaker 1: their front porch and knocked down the street toward the
Speaker 1: shops and cafes on the corner. I noticed a parquey
Speaker 1: meter timed out in front of the grocery and slipped
Speaker 1: a few coins in from my pocket. I bought a
Speaker 1: small bouquet of daisies and daffodils and carried them into
Speaker 1: the bookstore. There was a tall shelf of historical fiction
Speaker 1: in the back, and I slipped the flowers into a
Speaker 1: gap at the end of a row. I left a
Speaker 1: note there too, It just said for you. I walked
Speaker 1: through the park and picked up a few pieces of litter,
Speaker 1: left a quarter in the feed dispenser for the ducks.
Speaker 1: A dad with two little ones was juggling juice boxes,
Speaker 1: and I stopped for a second to help tie a
Speaker 1: shoe and open a pack of crackers. And when you
Speaker 1: start to look for ways to brighten someone's day or
Speaker 1: lighten someone's load, suddenly they are all around you. I
Speaker 1: held a door, I retrieved a dropped pencil. I took
Speaker 1: a picture of a dog sitting outside a shop and
Speaker 1: sent it to a friend I hadn't heard from in
Speaker 1: a while. I pointed a delivery man in the right direction.
Speaker 1: I lobbed an arrant ball back into the schoolyard. I
Speaker 1: just smiled and slowed down. My thought that rushing was
Speaker 1: likely contagious, and even just showing up wherever I was
Speaker 1: with some calm and ease was a way to help.
Speaker 1: On my way back home, I stopped at the mailbox
Speaker 1: of the house across the street and slipped in a
Speaker 1: package of toy mice stuffed with catnip. She watched me
Speaker 1: from her spot on the back of the sofa. She
Speaker 1: stopped to bath and treated me to a quick flick
Speaker 1: of the tail. Back in my own place, I laid
Speaker 1: out some newspapers on the kitchen table and got ready
Speaker 1: to plant my flower seeds. I'd stopped at a little
Speaker 1: art shop and bought some pretty bright paints and tiny brushes.
Speaker 1: I dusted off the pots and brightened them up with
Speaker 1: the paints, sharp lines and a few words. I spooned
Speaker 1: potting mix in and sewed a few seeds in each.
Speaker 1: I mixed the seeds up so each pot would have
Speaker 1: a rainbow of colors. I watered them gently from the
Speaker 1: tap and set them out in saucers. Back on the
Speaker 1: front stoop, I'd painted a message on with my brushes,
Speaker 1: and I turned them out to the street so my
Speaker 1: gift giver could read it. When they passed by, they said,
Speaker 1: thank you friend. Sweet dreams.