“Table Tales”
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“The Trip of The Rice Seed”
The seeds were in the rice bag, their usual place. They lay peacefully and did not even suspect my mother was going to make dolma (cabbage or grapes leaves stuffed with rice, meat and species.
She emptied the rice into the tray.
“Have we done anything wrong? What a curse!” murmured an old one rice seed, bumping into the tray.
My mother didn’t care. She was cleaning the rice, taking out the damaged seeds.
“Where are you taking me?” screamed the damaged seed and fell down into in the trash bin.
“Hi,” a can lying near said politely.
When the rice was clean, my mother emptied it into the pot.
“Madam, please stop your seamless actions!” screamed the old rice seed, wiping off the dust from itself.
But at that moment mother filled the pot with cold water.
“Help, please help, we’re sinking.”
But this was just the beginning. New trials followed one after the other.
Now mother is mixing the meat with the rice.
“This tactless woman broke my ribs”- groaned the old rice seed.
When the stuff was ready, mother took the green grape leaves and started rolling the dolma. The old seed got a little bit excited.
“I know what this is; I used to be a frequent hiker in the past. These green leaves are sleeping bags. ”
Soon the talk was over; you better don’t ask me how the meal was cooked.
The cooked seed was red with anger, having grown twice as large as it was before. Mother took the dolma, arranged beautifully on a plate to the dinning-room.
The old seed was in my plate.
Gor Baghdasaryan
11 years old
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“The salt”
Don’t call him salt, or else he will get insulted. He is Mr. Salt and now he is on the highest shelf of the cupboard. Mr. Salt doesn’t like talking to his neighbors.
“They are very silly and useless,” he thought, “look at these plates. What are they for? Just to eat supper in. Besides, they are very dirty. They need a good bath every day. And me, I am always pretty; people take care of me, so that not a single drop of water ever touches me.”
And putting on airs this way, he went to the darkest corner of the cupboard.
“I better sit here alone, than talk to them. Above all, water is my enemy,” he decided.
When the family gathered around the supper table, they forgot about Mr. Salt. The little girl had failed to find the salt in the dark corners of the cupboard.
Mr. Salt was at the verge of blowing up. He was red with anger.
“I think, there is something missing in the supper, dear,” the father noted carefully to mother. He did not want to make her feel bad.
“I know; the salad is not tasty, at all,” said mother.
“Where is the salt?” grandpa asked, “You didn’t salt any food.”
“At last; here I am,” shouted Mr. Salt, taking a deep breath. “Next time put me on the table first,” he mumbled.
“I didn’t know salt is so important,” thought the little girl. “No food tastes good without it. Maybe the taste is salt himself.”
It was good that Mr. Salt was not able to guess what people were thinking about. Can you imagine what would happen in that case?
Gevorg Mantashyan
11 years old
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“The Chestnut”
Once upon a time there lived a brown dog. He was very unhappy, because he felt like a chestnut. All the dogs in the neighborhood called him so, a chestnut.
Poor doggy; he decided to climb a chestnut tree. If he is a chestnut, he would live with chestnuts. Chestnuts would be his friends. No one will make fun of him any more.
When the dog climbed the tree, the chestnuts asked him:
“Hey dog, what are you doing here?”
The dog was very surprised: “These chestnuts think I am a dog. They know it better who I am.”
And he climbed down quietly.
Moushegh Baghdasaryan
9 years old
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“The tablecloth who liked grumbling”
Once upon a time there lived a beautiful and strange tablecloth. She was so strange that she never let to put food on her?
“What a shame! Who has put this slimy hen on my beautiful flowers?” she cried, “I have told you I can’t stand the smell of hen. Now, what did you come to? Soon I will be all in oil spots.”
But nobody listened to her; furthermore, they brought more plates full of food.
“Now they’ll put soup on me. Oh, and I will get wrinkled,” the tablecloth yelled with such a force that the dishes fell down.
…“Ma, this tablecloth is very dirty. We better change it,” said the children.
“Really, so many spots”, said the mother and put the tablecloth away.
Soon the guests gathered and the party began. And only the dirty selfish tablecloth lay unhappily at the bottom of the basket together with other items to be washed.
Nare Aghababyan
11 years old
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“Hamburger”
The bread was thinking on the plate. It wished it were an Egyptian pyramid. The bread had once heard a mother telling her children that in order to grow up they needed to eat.
So, it started to eat. It was eating everything it could: cheese and vegetables, sausage and greens. It even ate a spoonful of mustard, the BBQ and the pickles lying on the table.
It ate and ate but this did not help it become a pyramid. The food got stuck in its throat and it became a hamburger.
Lilit Hovhannisyan
11 years old
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“The pomegranate”
“Silence! I heard some noise”, said one of the pomegranate seeds.
“Just some people are talking in the next room, don’t worry”, one of the seeds calmed down its friend.
“What do you think makes us feel so hot? It is very stuffy in here.”
“I guess we are in the warm hands of some creatures.”
“You say it is very stuffy inside. But I am cold and I wonder what makes all of you think it is hot”, complained one of the seeds, which lay very deep inside the pomegranate.
“I think we are in hot water now and that is why we feel so hot”, said a seed which hang on the peel, very close to heat. It hadn’t heard the complaints of its friends.
“Stop arguing about things you don’t know. It is the sun that heats us”, said the pomegranate peel unable to stand the seed quarrel. “You don’t have to complain. We wouldn’t be able to grow without the heat of the sun. ”
“Sun? What is it?” the pomegranate seeds got surprised. “Is it a tasty and hot steam?”
“You won’t be able to imagine the sun, whatever I say. It’s a hot sphere.”
“Does the sun grow on our tree?” asked one of the wisest seeds on behalf of all. It knew about the tree.
“I knew you would not be able to imagine what the sun is. Now, if I say the sun is in the sky, you will certainly ask what the sky is, won’t you?”
“And you, can you see the sun. If so, make us see it too,” asked the seeds with envy.
“OK let’s see,” said the peel, collected its strengths and burst out.
At that very moment, Tsovinar entered the garden, saw the cracked pomegranate and exclaimed happily:
“Look, the pomegranate has cracked. I will put it on our table.”
Ashkhen Grigoryan
11 years old
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“Manushak”
Manushak was a little sweet girl; so little that she could not reach the table. Her dad put a pillow on the chair and seated Manushak on it. It was a fun to be at table with grown-ups. She was so excited, she could not even eat. Manushak’s sister’s friends looked at her smiling; she blushed and even forgot her name.
“What’s the matter, can’t you talk?” asked the girls.
“What’s your name?”
But Manushak didn’t want to reply. She wished of being unnoticed. She wished to watch people without talking to them, just listening to what they said. Modest people, who talk less always manage to hear more and to tell you the truth, they know more.
People were busy talking to each other at table. That was the reason why most of them didn’t hear what the flowers were talking about in the vase.
…“That boy is very shameless, he spilled his meal right on my petals”, said the bluebell.
“And there is so much perfume on this girl that no one can feel my scent any more”, complained the pink.
“Save me from this cruel chap”, said the camomile, “he is pulling out my beautiful petals.”
Manushak was red with excitement.
“Leave the daisy”, Manushak asked the boy. And the boy listened to her.
“You are such a kind and good girl”, said the flowers, and began to smell so nice, that even the perfumed girl could feel that.
Manushak didn’t say anything, because modest people never talk about their heroism.
Mariam Mikaelyan
12 years old
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“Persimmon spoons”
“Haven’t I told you to eat with a fork?” said Tigranik’s mother as he brought a frankfurter to his mouth.
“I’m a wild man, mummy,” explained the boy, “look, I’ve just come from the forest and I'm seeing a fork for the first time.”
“You eat the cake with a spoon, OK? Look at you! Just a look at your shirt or your mug is enough to guess what we had for dinner.”
Now Tigranik is a panther. He is moaning and jumping from table to table.
“This panther will eat us”, the dishes got afraid.
The spoons and knives got so scared that they went into the persimmon stone. You probably do not believe me. Then just break a persimmon stone and peep into it.
Ani Aghababyan
12 years old
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“The slice of bread”
“Let’s go to play snowballs”, suggested Narek and all of them ran out.
Ani, who had not finished eating yet, took a slice of bread and joined the others. She could not eat and play at the same time so she threw away the slice. The bread felt very insulted.
“People say bread is very important, but the children preferred me to playing”, thought the bread.
At that moment a little sparrow noticed the slice of bread and flew towards it.
“Today I will set a good table and invite all my sisters and brothers to a feast”.
The bird took the slice in its beak, put it in its nest and soon the air was full of cheerful chatter.
“So, I am not that bad, after all”, the bread took a deep breath.
Sona Madatyan
12 years old
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“The Talking Candy”
My mom had put the candies on the plate and put it on the table. I ran into the room, took one and went out. I was going to eat the candy, when I heard a voice:
“Don’t eat me, please,” asked the candy.
“But I like candies and I want to eat you.”
“It wouldn’t be good if you eat me. Throw me into the swimming pool, and wait.”
I was upset but I did what the candy said. Soon the water vaporized and my candy disappeared with it. I went home and began to do my homework. Soon it rained and candies fell down from the sky. There were candies hanging on branches of trees.
It was good I didn’t eat the talking candy.
Tsovinar Talyan
9 years old
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“Piggy”
It was the eve of the feast. Animals were discussing who would appear on the feast table. The calf with a bell was really proud.
“I have been eating the grass of the Alpine fields and will be the pride of the table. The mistress will make many dishes of me.”
The cackling hen was praising her meat and eggs free of dioxin.
The hare and the turkey were as much conceited.
And only the piggy lay grunting in the mud, surrounded with her babies.
The feast began. The pork dish was in the middle of the table. Children were pointing at the piggy`s head happily. The piggy, stuffed with pomegranate seeds and greens started talking:
“More boast, less roast! What happened to the hare and turkey? People have eaten them already, and me, I am so beautiful that people will long admire me before cutting me into pieces. ”
Nare Galstyan
10 years old
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