transcript

Speaker 1:
[00:01] Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy. I'm your host, Thomas. Thank you so much for joining me. I'll be narrating for you again tonight, and this story is something a bit different. It's about someone who provides direction and encouragement. Someone who's wise and kind. And this someone just happens to be a strawberry. She lives on a beautiful berry farm near Dublin in Ireland, and helps others to fulfil their purpose in life. A big thank you to Adrienne for writing this unique and heartwarming story. So let's ensure our minds are free of disruption, allowing space to enjoy it with gentle reverence. As you lie comfortably in bed, inviting your breath to slow and lengthen, notice if there are any thoughts or worries floating around in your mind. If so, then try visualizing a wide expanse of sunny blue sky up above you. Perhaps you're lying on a bed of soft grass, looking up with nothing else interfering in your vision of this sky. Just hearing the calm tweets of birds in your periphery and feeling the warmth of the sun caressing your skin. As you watch on, you see a few harmless fluffy white clouds dotted around. Each one is moving, slowly but surely, across the sky. This scene is a lot like your mind. The fluffy white clouds represent your thoughts, drifting into view, but eventually moving on. If you like, you can try attaching those thoughts that may be crossing your own mind right now to each of those fluffy white clouds. Perhaps one represents a happy memory from the day just gone. Another may be that niggling reminder about a task you need to get done tomorrow. Maybe some are worries or fears, or excitements. But each one, no matter how you feel about it, can simply drift on. They are not representations of the true you. They are just clouds floating on by, ever changing and fleeting. Eventually, as you continue watching the sky within your vision, notice how it entirely clears of those clouds. In the mountains of Dublin, Ireland is a famous berry farm called O'Brien's. It's a special place where families and nature enthusiasts come to pick their own fruit while enjoying the sprawling magnificent property. It's a colorful terrain decorated with stripes of emerald green that alternate with rich shades of chocolatey brown. On fair weather days, there's a scenery of soothing blues with wispy white clouds sketched high above mountain peaks and vibrant splashes of red sprinkled below. Strawberries are not the only item available for picking at the farm. Flowers and raspberries are also options. However, nothing draws a crowd like the strawberries. Upon arrival, guests might be surprised to discover how and where they grow. Contrary to popular belief, the strawberries do not grow on vines, but within small flowering plants much like a bush. The groundskeeper plants the berries in long, neat rows. The individual plants are similar in size and shape, yet one plant sticks out. Right in the heart of the field is a peculiar bunch of berries that seem to have formed a community. This network of berries is taller and wider than the others, and it always gets attention. Young children are simply delighted when they see a single shrub produce so much fruit, and they would be even more delighted if they knew the truth. Which is this? The fruits come alive when the sun hits its highest point of the day. The lively little berries dance and wiggle their triangular-shaped bodies. This promenade is a signal to the farm's visitors. Pick me, they are all saying. The wind carries their energy, and visitors with a keen sense of intuition can sometimes pick up notes of glee coming from that direction. When the dancing becomes too festive, stems begin to sway back and forth, and seeds drop on the ground. Some of the bigger berries fall during these rituals, and the other berries cheer in happiness. Being grounded is what gives the community berries their individual freedom. Everyone will have the opportunity to be free. Some are hand-picked and carried away in baskets. It is usually considered a rite of passage to break free from the community. But every so often, a berry needs a little assistance, or, in other words, a gentle nudge. That's why, nestled in the center of the plant, is a regal berry named ashling. This is a very fitting name for her considering it means dream or vision. For quite some time, ashling has been considered a strawberry sage, guiding the others on how to fulfill their life's purpose. She never ages, and never gets picked. Her sole purpose is helping every little berry understand their future, and ashling is very good at her job. Not long ago, a new strawberry was born. She was the tiniest little bud the community had ever produced. Ashling took the small but mighty one under her leaf, and nurtured her hour by hour until her pale green skin turned a blush pink, and eventually a vivacious red. You are fully grown now, she told the former bud. It's time that I reveal to you your purpose on this wonderful earth. The young strawberry looked at Aisling with wonderment and listened intently. You will bring sweetness to someone's life, Aisling continued. You are destined to be the focus of someone's fondest memory. This person will smile every time they think of you. Shortly after their chat, the young berries' destiny fulfillment began. It all started when a little boy approached. He wore denim overalls and a blue and white baseball cap. The boy was probably no more than ten years old and clearly excited to be picking strawberries and to be out of school. With both hands, the boy held a basket made of thick beige cardboard. Eagerly he knelt to the ground and carefully picked up a dozen fallen berries, gently placing them into his basket. Just as he was about to walk away, he stopped and looked towards the center of the bush, right at Aisling and her star pupil. Tenderly, the boy plucked the young berry off her stem and set her down on top of his bounty. She had attained freedom, and for that she was grateful. The berry instantly knew the boy in the hat was that special someone Aisling had told her about. It would be her fate to solidify a memory for him, one that would continue to make him smile for years and years to come. Every time this boy sees a strawberry, he shall think of me, she thought to herself. When the family decided they were done picking berries for the day, they walked at a leisurely pace to the car. They got inside, buckled themselves in, and rolled down the windows to feel the fresh, warm summer air. When the boy's father started the ignition, the little berry realized her purpose was just around the corner. The car reached a stop sign, and she wondered which way they would turn. If they were to turn right, the car would have to travel up the mountain, and if they turned left, they'd journey downwards. She didn't have a preference, but for some reason, she was happy with the driver's decision to go left. They drove for only a couple of minutes, as the family lived very close to O'Brien's farm. The boy's father then parked the car in their driveway. Their home was a modest cottage, the color of time-worn white lace, with a patio and a well-maintained garden. The mom and dad went inside the home, while the boy sat in an antique rocking chair on the patio. He held his basket of strawberries with both hands, and rocked back and forth, taking in the calming breeze, and the birds softly chirping in nearby oak trees. A few moments later, his grandmother appeared with a pitcher of lemonade. She hadn't gone to pick berries with the rest of the family, because she was busy at home squeezing lemons. She set the pitcher on a small wooden table next to the boy's rocking chair, and asked him if he was ready. The boy nodded his head and looked down at his basket of plump and juicy treasures. He picked up the prized berry, the one that would solidify this moment in time, and inspected her closely. Of course, he was tempted to pop the strawberry straight in his mouth, but Grandma was watching. She needed as many berries as possible for the lemonade. So the boy gave the berry a sweet kiss, and carefully placed her in the pitcher. One by one, all the berries from his basket went into the lemonade. He didn't remove the leafy green tops. Following his grandmother's instructions, the boy found a sunny spot for the pitcher, and let mother nature take over. The rays of light penetrated the berries through the glass, infusing the lemonade with sweetness and a subtle zest. It took hours for the flavors to fully bake, but once they did, the family enjoyed every last drop of strawberry lemonade. Aisling, the wise strawberry from the farm, was right. The boy who picked the vibrant red berry made a lasting memory, one that meant so much to him. He thought proudly of his contribution to the best homemade lemonade, shared with his family. It was a sweet moment for him, and the little berries' purpose had been successfully achieved. Ashling's next mission was to guide a misshapen strawberry who struggled to find confidence. You will bring sweetness to someone's life, Ashling told him, just like she told the other Barry. You are destined to be the focus of someone's fondest memory. This person will smile every time they think of you. The misshapen Barry heard her words, but still felt unsure. He asked her if his shape would ever change, or was he destined to be lopsided forever? You will go through some changes, she told him. Your shape may take on an entirely different form some day. But no matter what, you will always be a special strawberry, and you'll make someone's life sweeter. Trust the path you are destined to travel. Deciding to take a leap of faith, the misshapen berry wiggled on the vine with all his might. He wriggled with such vigor that he broke free from his leafy hull. Landing softly in a lush sea of green, he felt his freedom and reveled in cheers from his fellow community members. A little while later, a small group of young women came by. Every one of them had red hair and freckles across her nose. They were dressed casually and carried canvas totes around their shoulders. Laughing and enjoying themselves, they also seemed to be on a mission. At the site of the community plant, they stopped to make a few observations. One of the women looked down at the ground and saw not only the misshapen berry but also a few others that had set themselves free. These will do, she told her companions. They are perfect, actually. Bending down, the woman picked up all the strawberries that had fallen and placed them gently in her canvas tote, saving the best for last. I love all the lumps and contours in this little guy, she said about the misshapen one. She inspected him up close and smiled. You're my favorite, she whispered. I like you the best. The imperfect Barry couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Someone thought he was perfect. He was the young woman's favorite Barry out of the whole bunch. Maybe he'd been wrong his whole life. Maybe he wasn't flawed after all, and he was exactly the shape he was supposed to be. Bumpy, asymmetrical, and ideal. To someone, at least, and that was all that mattered. The group of young ladies continued chatting, enjoying a lovely time in each other's company. The Berries in the canvas toted all agreed that they thoroughly enjoyed being in the presence of such lively beings. It made no difference to the Strawberries where they were going next. They were just happy to be on a journey with this group of fine humans who seemed to love life. When the women were done picking berries, they drove away from the property, taking a right at the fork in the road. They drove for a couple of miles before pulling up to a quaint cottage they'd rented for the weekend. Once inside, they started preparing things in the kitchen. They reached into cabinets and pulled out multiple pots, a bag of sugar, mason jars, and a large metal strainer. Within minutes, the berries were being washed in a cast-iron sink using warm water and tenderness. Some of the stories they told were happy, others less so. But all of them were fascinating. It was clear they were sisters who had chosen to holiday together, perhaps on an annual trip. The misshapen strawberry greatly enjoyed spending his time with the sisters. Their laughter was contagious, and he loved knowing that one of the women adored him. Eventually, his purpose became more obvious. He was going to change his form, just like Aisling said he would. And best of all, his essence was going to be preserved for a very long time. As the sisters made the most delicious jam together, they also created quite a mess. But it was a fun mess to make, and each sister had a specific task to perform in the cleanup process. They worked together like when they were children, tackling chores given to them by their parents. So exhausted, in fact, they didn't even test out their precious jam. They waited until the morning to try it on a toasted baguette. It was so delicious and sweet that they decided to leave one of the jars in a cupboard as a surprise for the owners of the cottage. Ashling was right again. The berry who needed guidance brought sweetness to someone's life. He was the focus of a very fond memory, a holiday shared with loved ones. It was such a special gift he was able to give, and it was his uniquely shaped body that put a smile on someone's beautifully freckled face. A couple of days later, Ashling's guidance was needed again. This time, one of the newer community strawberries confided in her that he was concerned about his color. He was green, just like all strawberries are when they're young. However, he was impatient about his hue transition, wanting to match all the others in the bush. The green strawberry told Aisling that he stuck out too much. Aisling smiled and said that she knew his purpose. You will bring sweetness to someone's life, she explained to him. Just as she tells every berry who needs direction. You are destined to be the focus of someone's fondest memory. This person will smile every time they think of you. The green strawberry accepted this and became determined to free himself. He shook back and forth, gaining momentum until his leafy top separated from his body. He glided into the air and felt time stand still. This was freedom. He believed it was the beginning of his transition from a green berry to a red one, and he was excited to see how his life would unfold. He trusted Ashing with his whole heart. But what the green berry didn't realize was that certain fruits do not ripen once picked. If he truly wanted to become red, he should have stayed attached to his vine. He had rushed the process, and there was nothing anyone could do now. And he suddenly felt grateful for his protective layer. It served a purpose, just like he did. Just like every berry in the bush, and every being that's ever been. As the golden sun soaked into his skin, so did acceptance. He was green for a reason. Eventually, one of the groundskeepers, a kind-eyed gentleman in his forties, came by and picked him up. The man gave the green strawberry a once-over, examining every angle, and then held him to his nose. He inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a moment once his lungs were full. A wide grin spread across his face as he realized this was precisely what he was looking for, an underripe strawberry. He placed the green fruit in his pocket and walked back to the dining area of the property. A former barn converted into a restaurant. It only hosted 12 people at a time, and one of those people, his four-year-old niece, was very important to him. She had just arrived with her mother. As soon as the girl saw her beloved uncle, she ran into his arms. He scooped her up, hugged her tightly, and told her that he had something for her. After setting her down, the groundskeeper reached into his pocket and revealed the green strawberry. His niece grasped it in wonder and asked why the berry was green and not red like the others. She had never seen anything like it. The explanation, which was so simple and so sweet, illuminated her whole demeanor. It's your favorite color, said her uncle. That's why the berry came out green. And for the rest of the day, the child couldn't take her eyes away from it. She told her uncle, it reminded her of mint chocolate-chip ice cream, since the color was a soft pale green, and the seeds looked like bits of cocoa. Her uncle's sweet tooth gave a subtle quiver. He then proposed that they skip lunch and head to the nearby ice cream parlor. It made such a sweet memory for them all. Again, Aisling was right. She had guided one of her own to fulfilling a valuable destiny. The last strawberry was quite literally the berry on top. She was just a week old when she sought advice from Aisling, who, as usual, was pleased to assist. Unlike the others, this berry was fully aware that she was put on earth for a reason. She just didn't know what. You will bring sweetness to someone's life, Aisling told her. You are destined to be the focus of someone's fondest memory. This person will smile every time they think of you. This gave the eager little strawberry such hope. The thought of making someone happy created a feeling of inner tranquility. After her conversation with Aisling, the young berry danced in the center of the community plant with grace and anticipation. Freedom was just a few shakes away. Once she gently descended from her leafy hull and landed in the grass, she looked over and saw a set of white, patent leather shoes. They belonged to a little girl, probably no more than three years old. The girl bent down to pick up the strawberry and smiled, showing off the dimples in her rounded cheeks. She didn't say anything, and nor did she put the berry in a basket or tote. Instead, she wrapped her small fingers around the strawberry. The little girl's mother then picked her up and carried her to the farm's quaint restaurant, where they sat down with the rest of the family for a light afternoon treat. It had the texture of whipped cream mixed with custard, and underneath the velvety goodness was a small, round shortcake. The girl's eyes widened, and she couldn't wait to take a bite. Her mother handed her a small spoon, and told her that it would be better with a strawberry on top. So, the girl unfolded her fingers, and gingerly placed the red berry in the center of the dessert. as something you can hold in the palm of your hand. It might not be big, it might not be what you expected, but it's all yours. Even when it doesn't feel like it, you are destined to bring sweetness to someone's life. You have been the focus of someone's fondest memory. You have a purpose, and you will fulfil your journey.