Storie Sotto Le Stelle Podcast

• Un Mistero A Firenze
 | Una Storia Breve Scritta da Lucia & Marco Ciappelli (Versione in Italiano) | Storie Sotto Le Stelle Podcast | Storie Brevi Per Bambini E Giovani Di Cuore

  Un Mistero A Firenze In Toscana c'è tanta magia: colline decorate con olivi, vigneti e cipressi, campanili che suonano ovunque, giardini nascosti, e ovviamente città incantate, piene di storia e bellezza, dove artisti famosi hanno creato opere d'arte meravigliose.In questo racconto ci troviamo nella città di Firenze, dove la magia abbonda e in ogni angolo si nascondono leggende.Un fiume chiamato Arno l'attraversa; e fra i tanti ponti ce n'è uno che giustamente è un po' più famoso degli altri: il Ponte Vecchio. In quelle case sospese adesso non ci abita più nessuno. Ogni giorno è pieno di turisti che lo fotografano e lo vengono a visitare da tutto il mondo, ma tanti e tanti anni fa su questo ponte c'erano macellai, pescivendoli e conciatori come se fosse un mercato, una piazza sospesa sull'Arno e la vita quotidiana era ben diversa dai giorni d’oggi.Ai tempi di questa storia le botteghe erano tutte gioiellerie di proprietà di mastri orafi, che lì ci vivevano, lavoravano e vendevano gioielli d'oro e preziosi di altissima qualità. Era uno dei cuori della città dove i fiorentini del tempo si ritrovavano e si fermavano a chiacchierare mentre andavano e venivano da una parte all'altra del fiume. Anche i ragazzini ci passavano le giornate divertendosi a giocare correndo da un lato all'altro indisturbati.A questo punto dovete sapere che da qualche giorno avvenivano piccoli furti nelle botteghe degli artigiani. Oro e preziosi sparivano come se rubati dal vento, in silenzio e di sorpresa, senza lasciare traccia. Chi sa chi lo sa? Chi poteva essere il colpevole?Gli orafi si riunirono, dopo la chiusura dei negozi, proprio sul ponte."Ma che cosa sta succedendo?" disse uno."Boh, a saperlo…" disse un altro."E mica si può andare avanti così, a passare da bischeri!"Bernardo, uno degli orafi, disse: "Va bene che sono un po' sbadato, ma di sicuro non sono cieco da non vedere se mi manca dell'oro dalla bottega."E via a farsi domande e interrogarsi fra di loro per cercare di trovare una spiegazione per questi furti, scoprire il ladro e magari ritrovare il maltolto.Insomma, era ormai da settimane che dalle botteghe sparivano pagliuzze della lavorazione dell'oro e vari oggetti preziosi — e tutto questo succedeva sotto gli occhi di tutti ma nessuno aveva visto niente.A chi dare la colpa se non a quei monelli dispettosi che si divertivano a giocare a pallone sul ponte! Fra partitelle, risate, corse, giochi vari e nascondino, chissà se qualcuno di loro non si era messo a rubare qua e là.Passarono altri giorni e altro oro era svanito nel nulla. Gli orafi, stanchi di questa storia, uscirono sul ponte e gridarono a gran voce tutti insieme: "Ora ci siamo proprio divertiti ed è ora di farla finita! Catturiamo il ladro!"Anche il fornaio Giulio uscì sull'uscio della sua bottega, a sinistra, in fondo al ponte, e benché non avesse capito di preciso cosa stava succedendo, mostrò a tutti le mani piene di farina gridando: "Io non c'entro, lo giuro! Le mani in pasta le ho solo perché sono sempre a preparare le focacce da cuocere in forno."E così dicendo si unì agli altri gridando: "Prendiamo il ladro con le mani nel sacco prima che quel sacco diventi quello della farina!"In quel fermento, Lapo, un ragazzino assai furbo e curioso, figlio dell'orafo Bernardo che era amico di tutti e giocava insieme agli altri ragazzini sul ponte, dopo aver riflettuto pensò: "C'è qualcosa che non mi torna: noi ragazzi non rubiamo, di chi può essere la colpa?"Così Lapo decise di indagare per conto suo. Perché come gli diceva sempre suo nonno: "conta più una cosa fatta che cento da fare" e poi aggiungeva che "se fai da te fai per tre."Allora, senza tanti discorsi, la sera seguente si organizzò, procurandosi una lente d'ingrandimento, un quaderno con matita per prendere note e una lanterna che lo avrebbe accompagnato nel buio. Quest'ultima la teneva stretta con una mano un po' tremolante, ma non c'era da esitare — la situazione non si sarebbe risolta da sola.All'imbrunire, si avviò dal Ponte Vecchio, dove abitava con suo babbo sopra la bottega, verso la colonna di Piazza Santa Trinita.Lì sopra c'era, e c'è ancora, la Statua della Giustizia che troneggiava così alta da toccare il cielo. Il percorso non era lungo, ma quella sera ci mise più del normale, perché osservava tutto con attenzione e curiosità. Guardava a destra, a sinistra, nei chiassi, oltre il parapetto del Lungarno e se vedeva un sasso spostava anche quello: "non si sa mai dove si possono trovare degli indizi" pensava.Aveva sentito dire che la colonna e la statua della Giustizia fossero magiche e piene di segreti. Ma la cosa più stupefacente era che dalla sua sommità, dove appunto si trovava la statua, si potesse vedere quello che succedeva in ogni punto della città — come si sa la giustizia vede e sa tutto.Arrivato in Piazza Santa Trinita, fece un gran sospiro, mosse un ultimo passo e ai piedi della colonna — che sorpresa… incontrò una lumaca."Una lumaca?" direte voi. "Eh, proprio una lumaca con tanto di casa sulle spalle, con le luci alle finestre e un caminetto acceso" Davvero, ve lo dico io… Credeteci… Insomma era lì, che si muoveva, lenta sì, ma determinata. Quando sentì il passo leggero del visitatore inatteso, si insospettì e ritirando le antenne come fossero freni, si fermò di botto e disse:"Altolà! Chi va là? Ma te chi sei e dove vai? Non starai mica cercando guai, a girellare solo soletto a quest'ora del crepuscolo?""No, ma che guai… anzi, tutt'altro Signora Lumaca" rispose Lapo, "io dovrei andare in cima alla colonna per vedere cosa sta succedendo sul Ponte Vecchio. Ci sono delle cose che non tornano tanto bene e sto indagando. Come può vedere ho pure la lente d'ingrandimento e il cappello!" Disse Lapo mostrando gli oggetti per evitare fraintendimenti. "Ora, visto che mi sembra del posto, mica mi saprebbe gentilmente dire, come posso fare a salire lassù?"La lumaca che abitava ai piedi della colonna ed era a tutti gli effetti la sua guardiana, sbuffò ma poi sorrise e mostrò a Lapo una piccola porticina alla base della colonna, nascosta dall'edera."Carissimo Lapo," disse aggiustandosi gli occhiali "mi sembri un ragazzo coraggioso, un vero amico e anche un bravo investigatore, ma solo dalla cima della colonna potrai conoscere la verità."Detto ciò, la lumaca sfregò i suoi tentacoli e cominciarono a brillare di una luce magica che avvolse Lapo facendolo diventare dell'altezza della porta che si aprì con un gran cigolio; talmente acuto da far scappare tutti gli uccelli che nella notte bazzicavano intorno.Lapo ora piccino, piccino ringraziò la lumaca e senza paura entrò all'interno della colonna. Nell'oscurità, rimase impressionato da uno stretto e alto pozzo che saliva invece di scendere. Sulle pareti luccicanti c'era una spirale di minuscoli scalini che iniziò a salire con passi determinati con la lanterna accesa ben stretta in mano. Arrivò in cima.Nella notte il cielo stellato illuminava la Statua della Giustizia che troneggiava su Firenze. Aveva una bilancia con due piatti in equilibrio in una mano e una spada dorata nell'altra.Come abbiamo detto in precedenza, per incantesimo, da lì si poteva vedere tutta la città — bastava guardare nella direzione giusta e pensare alla parte di Firenze che volevi vedere: una magia incredibile per una visione da togliere il fiato.Adesso era il momento di concentrarsi sul Ponte Vecchio e cercare di risolvere il mistero dei furti, ma nel muoversi intorno alla statua, per andare dalla parte che guardava il fiume, fece una scoperta incredibile. Non poteva credere ai propri occhi — tanto è vero che tirò fuori la lente d’ingrandimento per essere sicuro. Tutti e due i piatti della bilancia erano pieni di pagliuzze d'oro e monili preziosi."Mamma mia! E questa roba come c'è arrivata quassù?" Esclamò Lapo con gli occhi spalancati. "Questo è indubbiamente il bottino dei furti alle gioiellerie!"Prima, confuso e stupefatto non sapeva che pensare, ma poi, osservando meglio le pagliuzze si rese conto che erano tutte intrecciate con braccialetti e collanine: questi erano due nidi e un'idea gli balenò subito nella mente."Le gazze ladre!" Esclamò Lapo. Quegli uccelli furbetti amano tutto ciò che brilla, certamente sono state loro a rapinare le botteghe e a portare quassù la refurtiva.E nel bel mezzo di questo pensiero, all'improvviso comparvero in volo. Atterrarono sulla colonna agitate e furiose "KRAA KRAA KRAA! Oh, ragazzino ma cosa stai facendo a casa nostra? Non ti provare nemmeno a toccare queste meraviglie luccicanti; sono il nostro nido, le abbiamo trovate noi e sono nostre."Lapo non si fece spaventare e con calma rispose: "Ma che dite? A voi piacciono cose luccicanti che brillano e le prendete, ma non vuol certo dire che sono vostre."Le gazze gracchiavano tutte insieme sembravano impazzite e non conoscevano ragione. "Ma cosa dice questo?" Disse una. "Già, uno viene a casa nostra e pretende di comandare?" Aggiunse un'altra. "Sì, bellina la battuta. Non sono nostre? Ma che sei un comico? Cambia lavoro, guarda, perché non ci fai mica ridere." Disse un'altra.E tutte a ridere.Al che Lapo non si fece intimidire. Si frugò in tasca e trovò quello che cercava. Propose uno scambio. "E se si facesse un affare. A dire il vero io ci rimetto parecchio, ma mi state talmente simpatiche che vi darei volentieri queste belle biglie luccicanti in cambio dell'oro e i monili."Vedendo quei piccoli tesori brillanti e colorati, che non avevano mai visto prima, le gazze si calmarono. Si guardarono con uno sguardo furbo e senza esitazione… "Affare fatto!"Gli presero le biglie di mano in un battibaleno e volarono via gridando: "Evviva, siamo ricchissime! Da ora in poi faremo collezione di queste palline."Sospirando di sollievo e di soddisfazione, Lapo recuperò la refurtiva e scese a rotta di collo dalla colonna. La lumaca lo stava aspettando applaudendo. Con un altro incantesimo lo fece uscire dalla porticina e apparire proprio sul ponte vecchio dove diversi Fiorentini erano a prendere il fresco e chiacchierare — inclusi gli orefici."Babbo, babbo ho scoperto il mistero e trovato il colpevole: le gazze ladre! Sono state loro! I miei amici non hanno fatto niente di male." "Calma figliolo, ti ascolto". Rispose Bernardo.Lapo con tutto il fiato che aveva in gola non perse un attimo e raccontò tutto quello che aveva scoperto e visto: il cappello da investigatore, la lente d’ingrandimento, la lumaca magica che conosceva i segreti della colonna, la porticina, la statua in cima, la vista di Firenze, le gazze ladre e il trucco delle biglie colorate. Finalmente il mistero degli strani furti era chiarito, tutta la refurtiva recuperata fu restituita agli orafi del Ponte Vecchio per merito dell'intraprendente e coraggioso Lapo.A quel punto tutti quelli che erano sul Ponte Vecchio applaudirono gridando: "hurra, hurra, hurra, al piccolo investigatore."Mentre il ponte antico, forse incantato, risplendeva di luci dorate.Il fornaio Giulio mentre infornava focacce, canticchiava allegramente e con voce squillante annunciava: "oggi focacce a volontà gratis per tutti, dobbiamo festeggiare!"Le gazze ladre ritornarono a volare su tetti di Firenze e continuarono a trovare piccoli oggetti e persino pezzi di sogni luccicanti; e gracchiando dicevano: "Sarà pure che abbiamo perso un nido, ma di sicuro abbiamo trovato una storia da raccontare."E forse, chissà, una nuova storia ci sarà!— Scritta da Lucia & Marco Ciappelli | Ispirata da una leggenda fiorentina  Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You’ll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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• A Mystery In Florence | A Short Story Written By Lucia & Marco Ciappelli (English Version) | Stories Sotto Le Stelle Podcast | Short Stories For Children And The Young At Heart

  A Mystery in FlorenceIn Tuscany there is so much magic: hills decorated with olive trees, vineyards and cypresses, bell towers ringing everywhere, hidden gardens, and of course enchanted cities, full of history and beauty, where famous artists have created marvellous works of art.In this tale we find ourselves in the city of Florence, where magic abounds and legends hide in every corner.A river called the Arno runs through it; and amongst the many bridges there is one that quite rightly is a bit more famous than the others: the Ponte Vecchio. In those suspended houses no one lives anymore. Every day it is full of tourists who photograph it and come to visit from all over the world, but many, many years ago on this bridge there were butchers, fishmongers and tanners as if it were a market, a square suspended over the Arno and daily life was very different from today.At the time of this story the shops were all jewellery stores owned by master goldsmiths, who lived there, worked and sold gold jewellery and precious items of the highest quality. It was one of the hearts of the city where the Florentines of the time would meet and stop to chat whilst they came and went from one side of the river to the other. Even the children spent their days having fun playing and running from one side to the other undisturbed.At this point you must know that for some days small thefts had been occurring in the artisans' shops. Gold and precious items disappeared as if stolen by the wind, silently and by surprise, without leaving a trace. Who knows who knows? Who could be the culprit?The goldsmiths gathered together, after closing their shops, right there on the bridge."But what on earth is happening?" said one."Well, if only we knew..." said another."And we can't go on like this, looking like fools!"Bernardo, one of the goldsmiths, said: "Granted I'm a bit absent-minded, but I'm certainly not blind enough not to see if gold is missing from my shop."And off they went asking questions and interrogating each other to try to find an explanation for these thefts, discover the thief and perhaps recover what was stolen.In short, it had been weeks now that gold filings from the working of gold and various precious objects had been disappearing from the shops — and all this was happening under everyone's eyes but no one had seen anything.Who to blame if not those mischievous rascals who enjoyed playing football on the bridge! Between little matches, laughter, running, various games and hide-and-seek, who knows if one of them hadn't started stealing here and there.More days passed and more gold had vanished into thin air. The goldsmiths, tired of this business, came out onto the bridge and shouted loudly all together: "Now we've really had enough and it's time to put an end to it! Let's catch the thief!"Even Giulio the baker came out to the doorway of his shop, on the left, at the end of the bridge, and although he hadn't understood precisely what was happening, he showed everyone his flour-covered hands shouting: "I've got nothing to do with it, I swear! My hands are covered in dough only because I'm always preparing focaccia to bake in the oven."And saying this he joined the others shouting: "Let's catch the thief red-handed before that sack becomes one of flour!"In that commotion, Lapo, a very clever and curious boy, son of the goldsmith Bernardo who was friends with everyone and played together with the other children on the bridge, after reflecting thought: "There's something that doesn't add up: we children don't steal, whose fault can it be?"So Lapo decided to investigate on his own. Because as his grandfather always told him: "one thing done is worth more than a hundred to do" and then he would add that "if you do it yourself you do for three."So, without much ado, the following evening he organised himself, getting hold of a magnifying glass, a notebook with pencil to take notes and a lantern that would accompany him in the dark. The latter he held tight with a slightly trembling hand, but there was no hesitation — the situation wouldn't resolve itself.At dusk, he set off from the Ponte Vecchio, where he lived with his father above the shop, towards the column in Piazza Santa Trinità.Up there was, and still is, the Statue of Justice that towered so high as to touch the sky. The journey wasn't long, but that evening it took him longer than usual, because he observed everything with attention and curiosity. He looked right, left, in the narrow streets, beyond the parapet of the Lungarno and if he saw a stone he moved that too: "you never know where you might find clues" he thought.He had heard it said that the column and the statue of Justice were magical and full of secrets. But the most amazing thing was that from its summit, where indeed the statue stood, one could see what was happening at every point in the city — as we know justice sees and knows everything.Having arrived in Piazza Santa Trinita, he gave a great sigh, took one last step and at the foot of the column — what a surprise... he met a snail."A snail?" you will say. "Eh, exactly a snail complete with house on its shoulders, with lights on at the windows and a fireplace lit" Really, I tell you... Believe it... In short it was there, moving, slowly yes, but determined. When it heard the light step of the unexpected visitor, it became suspicious and withdrawing its antennae as if they were brakes, it stopped dead and said:"Halt! Who goes there? But who are you and where are you going? You're not looking for trouble, are you, wandering about all alone at this twilight hour?""No, what trouble... quite the opposite Mrs Snail" replied Lapo, "I should go to the top of the column to see what's happening on the Ponte Vecchio. There are things that don't quite add up and I'm investigating. As you can see I even have the magnifying glass and hat!" Said Lapo showing the objects to avoid misunderstandings. "Now, since you seem to be from around here, you wouldn't happen to know how I can get up there?"The snail who lived at the foot of the column and was to all intents and purposes its guardian, huffed but then smiled and showed Lapo a small door at the foot of the column, hidden by ivy."Dearest Lapo," she said adjusting her spectacles "you seem like a brave boy, a true friend and also a good investigator, but only from the top of the column will you be able to know the truth."Having said this, the snail rubbed her tentacles and they began to shine with a magical light that enveloped Lapo making him become the height of the door which opened with a great creak; so sharp as to make all the birds that were hanging about in the night fly away.Lapo, now very small, thanked the snail and without fear entered inside the column. In the darkness, he was impressed by a narrow and high well that went up instead of down. On the gleaming walls there was a spiral of tiny steps that he began to climb with determination with the lit lantern held tight in his hand. He reached the top.In the night the starry sky illuminated the Statue of Justice that towered over Florence. It had a scale with two balanced plates in one hand and a golden sword in the other.As we said previously, by enchantment, from there one could see the whole city — one just had to look in the right direction and think of the part of Florence you wanted to see: an incredible magic for a breathtaking view.Now was the moment to concentrate on the Ponte Vecchio and try to solve the mystery of the thefts, but whilst moving around the statue, to go to the side that looked towards the river, he made an incredible discovery. He couldn't believe his own eyes — so much so that he took out the magnifying glass to be sure. Both plates of the scale were full of gold filings and precious trinkets."Good heavens! And how did this stuff get up here?" Exclaimed Lapo with wide eyes. "This is undoubtedly the loot from the thefts at the jewellery shops!"At first, confused and amazed he didn't know what to think, but then, observing the filings more carefully he realised they were all woven together with bracelets and necklaces: these were two nests and an idea immediately flashed into his mind."The thieving magpies!" Exclaimed Lapo. Those crafty birds love everything that glitters, it must certainly have been them who robbed the shops and brought the stolen goods up here.And in the middle of this thought, suddenly they appeared in flight. They landed on the column agitated and furious "KRAA KRAA KRAA! Oh, little boy but what are you doing at our home? Don't you even dare touch these glittering marvels; they are our nest, we found them and they are ours."Lapo didn't let himself be frightened and calmly replied: "But what are you saying? You like glittering things that shine and you take them, but that certainly doesn't mean they are yours."The magpies were all chattering together they seemed to have gone mad and knew no reason. "But what is this one saying?" Said one. "Right, someone comes to our home and expects to give orders?" Added another. "Yes, nice joke. They're not ours? But are you a comedian? Change job, look, because you don't make us laugh." Said another.And all of them laughing.At which Lapo didn't let himself be intimidated. He rummaged in his pocket and found what he was looking for. He proposed an exchange. "What if we made a deal. To tell the truth I lose out quite a bit, but I like you so much that I would gladly give you these beautiful shiny marbles in exchange for the gold and trinkets."Seeing those small brilliant and colourful treasures, which they had never seen before, the magpies calmed down. They looked at each other with a crafty look and without hesitation... "Deal!"They took the marbles from his hand in a flash and flew away shouting: "Hooray, we're rich! From now on we'll collect these little balls."Sighing with relief and satisfaction, Lapo recovered the stolen goods and rushed down from the column. The snail was waiting for him applauding. With another spell she made him come out of the little door and appear right on the Ponte Vecchio where several Florentines were taking the evening air and chatting — including the goldsmiths."Papa, papa I've discovered the mystery and found the culprit, it was the thieving magpies! My friends didn't do anything wrong." "Calm down son, I'm listening". Replied Bernardo.Lapo with all the breath he had in his throat didn't waste a moment and told everything he had discovered and seen: the investigator's hat, the magnifying glass, the magical snail who knew the secrets of the column, the little door, the statue at the top, the view of Florence, the thieving magpies and the trick with the coloured marbles. Finally the mystery of the strange thefts was clarified, all the recovered stolen goods were returned to the goldsmiths of the Ponte Vecchio thanks to the enterprising and brave Lapo.At that point everyone who was on the Ponte Vecchio applauded shouting: "hooray, hooray, hooray, for the little investigator."Whilst the ancient bridge, perhaps enchanted, gleamed with golden lights.Giulio the baker whilst putting focaccia in the oven, sang merrily and with a ringing voice announced: "today focaccia for everyone free of charge, we must celebrate!"The thieving magpies returned to flying; they continued to find small objects and even pieces of glittering dreams; and chattering they said: "It may well be that we've lost a nest, but we've certainly found a story to tell."And perhaps, who knows, there will be a new story!— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli [Inspired by a Florentine legend] Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You’ll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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• FORBIX IL PARRUCCHIERE DAL TOCCO D’ARTISTA
 | Una Storia Breve Scritta da Lucia & Marco Ciappelli (Versione in Italiano) | Storie Sotto Le Stelle Podcast | Storie Brevi Per Bambini E Giovani Di Cuore

  FORBIX IL PARRUCCHIERE DAL TOCCO D’ARTISTANel centro della città di Tagliaspunta, tra negozi di generi vari, c’è un parrucchiere di nome Forbix, per donne, uomini, ragazzi e bambini — ma non troppo piccoli.Forbix non è un semplice parrucchiere: possiede un tocco magico d’artista. Le sue forbici sono d’argento e, mentre tagliano, sussurrano storie. Il suo pettine d’avorio fa brillare i capelli e il suo phon non soffia aria, ma sogni. Nella sua postazione di taglio diventa un mago: le forbici, guidate dalla sua mano, svolazzano fra i capelli e, tocco dopo tocco, voilà, il risultato è perfetto.Un giorno l’albero che stava davanti al suo negozio disse a Forbix:“Tu sei un artista e io sono stanco della mia chioma di foglie arruffate. Mi piacerebbe rimettermi a nuovo,” sospirò, “e poi ti farei una bella pubblicità.”Il parrucchiere non se lo fece ripetere due volte: si spostò all’aria aperta con le sue forbici incantate.Girando intorno all’albero con l’estro di un genio, dopo alcuni colpi decisi, spuntò i rami e trasformò le foglie secche in coriandoli d’argento che il vento portò via. L’albero apparve più splendente e vivo come non era mai stato, con le verdi foglie che lo adornavano come riccioli intrecciati.Il mattino seguente, due bambini — Sara e David — giocherelloni come erano, saltellavano sul marciapiede, quando videro l’albero così elegante, di buon umore, e le sue foglie fischiettavano gioiose.Sara aveva i capelli ricci come nuvolette d’estate, David li aveva spettinati come un piccolo porcospino.Avvicinandosi, in coro gli domandarono:“Chi è stato l’artista che ha fatto tutto questo?”L’albero rispose: “Il parrucchiere Forbix.”“Ci piacerebbe andare anche a noi, le nostre capigliature sono arruffate e avrebbero bisogno di una bella aggiustata. Le nostre mamme ce lo dicono oramai da un bel pezzo.“Allora e' meglio che gli date retta. Vai, vai, entrate.” Li incoraggiò l’albero, sussurrando.Per primo, inciampando nello scalino di marmo, entrò David, seguito da Sara che salutava sorridendo.Forbix, da buon osservatore, li fece accomodare e, passando le sue mani tra i capelli uno alla volta, piano piano iniziò a tagliare con le sue forbici magiche. Il pettine accarezzava i capelli che iniziarono a brillare e, con il phon, sogni volavano intorno insieme alle storie sussurrate. Guardandosi nello specchio, i loro volti si illuminarono con un gran sorriso, mentre il parrucchiere, a sua volta soddisfatto, gli faceva l’occhiolino.Sara e David ringraziarono felici con un inchino e un saluto. Sul marciapiede fecero un allegro girotondo intorno all’albero sui cui rami si erano posati alcuni uccellini canterini, che fecero un concertino, insieme alle foglie e ai bambini.La vera magia di Forbix non è solo nei suoi strumenti del mestiere che usa con la passione di un artista, ma anche nella capacità di ascoltare e donare un sorriso. Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You’ll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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• FORBIX — THE HAIRDRESSER WITH AN ARTIST’S TOUCH | A Short Story Written By Lucia & Marco Ciappelli (English Version) | Stories Sotto Le Stelle Podcast | Short Stories For Children And The Young At Heart

  FORBIX — THE HAIRDRESSER WITH AN ARTIST’S TOUCHIn the heart of the town of Tagliaspunta, nestled among shops of all kinds, there’s a hairdresser named Forbix, for women, men, teenagers, and children — though not too little. Forbix is no ordinary hairdresser: he has the magical touch of an artist. His scissors are made of silver and, as they cut, they whisper stories. His ivory comb makes hair shine, and his hairdryer doesn’t blow air — it blows dreams.At his cutting station, he becomes a magician: the scissors, guided by his hand, flutter through the hair and, touch after touch — voilà! — the result is perfect.One day, the tree standing in front of his shop said to Forbix:“You are an artist, and I’m tired of my tangled mop of leaves. I’d love a little makeover,” it sighed, “and I’d make a great advertisement for you.”The hairdresser didn’t need to be asked twice: he stepped outside with his enchanted scissors.Circling the tree with the flair of a genius, after a few confident snips, he trimmed the branches and turned the dry leaves into silver confetti that the wind carried away. The tree looked more radiant and alive than it had ever been, with fresh green leaves adorning it like braided ringlets.The next morning, two children — Sara and David — playful as ever, were hopping along the sidewalk when they saw the tree, so elegant and in a good mood, its leaves joyfully whistling.Sara had curls like little summer clouds, and David’s hair stuck up like a tiny hedgehog.As they came closer, they asked in unison:“Who’s the artist who did all this?”The tree replied: “The hairdresser, Forbix.”“We’d love to go too! Our hair is all messy and really needs a good fix. Our moms have been saying so for quite a while now.”“Well then, you’d better listen to them. Go on, go in,” the tree encouraged them with a whisper.David went in first, tripping over the marble step, followed by Sara who smiled and waved.Forbix, ever observant, welcomed them in and, running his hands through their hair one at a time, slowly began to cut with his magical scissors. The comb gently caressed their hair, which began to shine, and with the blow-dryer, dreams swirled through the air along with whispered stories.Looking at themselves in the mirror, their faces lit up with big smiles, while Forbix, pleased in turn, gave them a wink.Sara and David happily thanked him with a bow and a wave.Out on the sidewalk, they danced in a joyful circle around the tree, on whose branches little songbirds had perched — giving a cheerful concert, along with the leaves and the children.The true magic of Forbix lies not only in the tools of his trade, which he uses with an artist’s passion, but also in his ability to listen — and bring a smile.-- Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You’ll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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• The Out of Tune Instruments | A Short Story Written By Lucia & Marco Ciappelli (English Version) | Stories Sotto Le Stelle Podcast | Short Stories For Children And The Young At Heart

  The Out of Tune InstrumentsOn the bank of a stream, where a great many colorful little fish swam, lived a small family: mamma, babbo, and their seven children — four boys and three girls. Their house was a bit far from the town of Strumentopoli, but being close to the stream and next to the Great Forest made it a wonderful place to live.Mamma lovingly tended the vegetable garden. Babbo, on the other hand, was a woodworker who crafted musical instruments from the finest trunks, chosen among the sturdiest and most fragrant trees in the forest.The children went to school in the village. In winter, they reached it on skis, while in spring and autumn they rode in a cart pulled by two young deer — one white and one black, like the keys of a piano.Before they left, babbo counted them one by one to make sure no one was missing. Then, as he did every day, he reminded them:“Behave yourselves, don’t skip school, and remember the tale of Pinocchio and his nose!”Those words always ended with a smile from everyone.Babbo would then return to his workshop. His instruments were well-made, using excellent materials, but there was one problem: they were out of tune. Still, as a good luthier, he didn’t lose heart. His passion for music was so strong that teaching his children to play had become a joy. He even gave them special names: Chitarra, Violino, Oboe, Liuto, Arpa, Bongo, and Ukulele.Mamma didn't object. Of course, naming them after vegetables might have been funny, but their village friends probably would’ve made fun of them.The children did well in school, and when they came home, they helped mamma in the garden. One day, though, they mistook some nettle plants for lettuce — what a sting! They all ran straight to the stream and jumped in to soothe the burning.The little fish burst into laughter:“You’re so silly! Ah ah ah!”Mamma helped them out of the water and, turning to the fish, said:“This evening, at sunset, there will be a concert in our courtyard. My children will perform with their instruments. You’re all invited!”The fish replied enthusiastically:“Thanks for the invitation! We’ll be there for sure — it’s going to rain, and we love splashing! Splich, sploch, splach!”That evening turned out to be a real party. At the concert of slightly strange and delightfully quirky music, everyone had a blast: the musicians, the animals from the forest, and even the fish — who mamma cheerfully sprayed with water.After that joyful evening, life went back to its usual pace: school, garden, and even the forest. In fact, during their free time, the children often helped babbo choose and cut wood to build his instruments.The Great Forest had become familiar to them. So one day, while they were playing there and climbing trees, the kids spotted a group of gnomes huddled together, looking agitated. They quickly hid behind some bushes to observe and listen in on their conversation.The meeting, called in great haste, was to make a decision about an imminent danger. A powerful storm was on the way. They spoke of a hurricane wind that hadn’t been seen or heard in a hundred years — or perhaps even longer — and it was heading for the forest.“We must stop it, by any means,” said the gnomes.So they decided to call on an old ally: the Great Warrior of the Mountain, armed with a sword and magical powers. He was the one who, in the past, had already defeated dragons and even extraterrestrials who had tried to conquer Earth.The seven children, alarmed by the news and determined to help in the battle, ran quickly back to the house — also to warn the villagers of the impending danger. Meanwhile, the wind drew closer. You could hear it from afar — wild and howling. As it passed, the trees bent until their tops brushed the ground. Some swayed, others snapped, and a few were completely uprooted.The people of Strumentopoli, who had begun to feel the wind blowing through the village streets and saw the Great Warrior descending the mountain, grew concerned — but they didn’t panic. Everyone grabbed their instruments and rushed toward the house by the stream to help the family who lived there, and together try to save the Great Forest.At the same time, the colorful fish arrived — united and determined — along with the other animals of the woods and stream.“All together we can form a barrier and block the wind!” they shouted in unison.At that moment, the children of the family — still out of breath from running — stepped forward and said:“We have our babbo’s instruments too. They’re strange, a bit out of tune… but if we all play together, maybe we can stop the storm.” And with that, they rushed into the house and came back out in no time at all.The gnomes, fully aware of the instruments’ flaws, cast a powerful musical spell. When the children began to play, something magical happened. For the first time, the music was melodious, harmonious, and full of feeling.One by one, all the people of Strumentopoli joined in. Each person, with their own instrument, contributed as if they were all part of one great orchestra.The hurricane wind — engaged in a fierce battle with the Great Warrior of the Mountain — heard the music from afar and immediately began to calm. Its howling softened, and by the time it reached the forest, it had become a cool mountain gust, and finally… a gentle valley breeze.The wind had become part of that marvelous orchestra — the battle was won thanks to everyone. Each had offered their own music and helped bring about the victory.“United we are strong,” they all said proudly.The babbo luthier continued building instruments with the finest wood the forest had to offer. They were so beautiful and sounded so good that people said they were the most melodic ever heard.The children — Chitarra, Violino, Oboe, Liuto, Arpa, Bongo, and Ukulele — joined the village band. At every festival, they played with great success, cheered on by applause and warm smiles. Even the gnomes and the Great Warrior listened to their music… from the forest and the mountain.The colorful fish swam and danced happily in the stream, and when someone passed by, they greeted them with joyful splashes.The family continued to live near the Great Forest, and on summer evenings, when everything finally grew quiet, they would lie along the stream and watch the stars above. Their hearts would tell stories… and the night would write the happy ending of every tale.-- Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You’ll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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