Welcome to sleep stories with Steph It is time to relax.
And fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now.
And know where you need to go.
Close your eyes.
And feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.
And let all the worries of the day go.
Drift away.
This is your time.
And your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose.
And let it out with a long sigh.
That's it!
There is nothing you need to be doing now.
And know where you need to go.
Happy listening.
The Story of an Invitation Bertha Sunderland hurried home from the post office and climbed the stairs of her boarding house to her room on the third floor.
Her roommate,
Grace Maxwell,
Was sitting on the divan by the window looking out into the twilight.
A year ago,
Bertha and Grace had come to Dartmouth to attend the Academy and found themselves roommates.
Bertha was bright,
Pretty and popular,
The favourite of her classmates and teachers.
Grace was a grave,
Quiet girl dressed in mourning.
She was quite alone in the world.
The aunt who had brought her up had recently died.
At first she'd felt shy with bright and brilliant Bertha,
But soon they became friends.
And the year that followed was a very pleasant one.
It was almost ended now,
For the terminal exams had begun,
And in a week's time.
.
.
The school would close for the holidays.
Have some chocolates,
Grace,
" said Bertha gaily.
I got such good news in my letter tonight,
I felt I must celebrate it fittingly.
So I went into Carter's and invested all my spare cash in caramels.
It's really fortunate the term's almost out for I'm nearly bankrupt.
Just enough left to furnish a tuck out for commencement night and no more.
What is your good news,
May I ask?
" said Grace.
You know I have an Aunt Margaret.
Commonly called Aunt Meg,
Out is Riversdale,
Don't you?
There never was such a dear,
Sweet,
Jolly auntie in the world.
I had a letter from her tonight.
Listen,
I'll tell you what she says.
I want you to spend your holidays with me,
She writes.
Mary Fairweather and Louise Fyche and Lily Dennis are coming too.
So there's just enough room for one more,
And that one more must be yourself.
Come to Riversdale when school closes and I'll feed you on strawberries and cream and pound cake and donuts and mince pies and all the delicious ingestible things that schoolgirls love.
And careful mothers condemned.
Mary and Lou and Lil are girls after your own heart,
I know.
And you'll all do just as you like and we'll have picnics and parties and merry doings galore.
To hear,
" said Bertha,
Looking up with a laugh.
Isn't that lovely?
How delightful it must be to have friends like that to love and plan for you.
Said Grace wistfully.
I'm sure you'll have a pleasant vacation Bertie.
As for me,
I'm going to Clarkman's bookstore until school reopens.
I saw Mr.
Clarkman today and he agreed to take me.
Birth that looks surprised.
She had not known what Grace's vacation plans were.
I don't think you ought to do that,
Grace,
" she said thoughtfully.
You're not strong and you need a good rest.
It'll be very trying working at Clarkman's all summer.
There's nothing else for me to do.
Said Grace,
Trying to speak cheerfully.
You know I'm as poor as the proverbial church mouse,
Bertie.
The simple truth is I can't afford to pay my board all summer and get my winter outfit unless I do something to earn it.
I shall be far too busy to be lonesome.
And I shall expect long newsy letters from you telling me all your fun.
You can pass your vacation on to me second hand,
You see?
Well now,
I must sit to work at those algebra problems.
I tried them before dark,
But I couldn't solve them.
My head ached and I felt so stupid.
How glad I shall be when exams are over.
I suppose I must revise that senior English this evening,
Said Bertha absently.
She made no move to do so.
She was studying her friend's face.
How very pale and thin Grace looked.
Surely much paler and thinner than when she'd come to the academy,
And she had not by any means been plump and rosy then.
I believe she can't stand two months at Clarkman's.
Or better.
If only I were not going to Aunt Meg's,
I'd ask her to come home with me.
Or even if Aunt Meg had room for another guest.
I could write to her about Grace and ask if I could bring her with me.
Aunt Meg would understand.
She always understands.
But she hasn't,
So that can't be.
Just then a thought darted into Bertha's brain.
Nonsense,
" she said aloud,
So suddenly and forcibly Grace fairly jumped.
What is it?
Oh,
Nothing much,
Said Bertha,
Getting up briskly.
I'm going to get to work now.
I've wasted enough time.
She curled herself up on the divan and tried to study her senior English.
But her thoughts wandered hopelessly and finally she gave it up in despair and went to bed.
There she could not sleep.
She lay awake and wrestled with herself.
It was after midnight when she sat up in bed and said solemnly,
I won't do it.
Next day she wrote a confidential letter to Aunt Meg thanking her for her invitation and then telling her all about Grace.
What I want to ask,
Aunt Meg,
Is that you will let me transfer my invitation to Grace and ask her to go to Riversdale this summer in my place.
Don't think me ungrateful.
I'm sure you won't,
You always understand things.
But you can't have us both and I'd rather Grace should go.
It will do her so much good.
And I have a lovely home of my own to go to.
She has none.
Aunt Meg did understand as usual and she was perfectly willing,
So she wrote to Bertha and enclosed a note of invitation for Grace.
I shall have to manage this very carefully.
Reflected Bertha Grace must never suspect I did it on purpose.
I'll tell her circumstances have prevented me from accepting Aunt Meg's invitation.
That's true enough.
No need to say circumstances are hers and not mine.
I'll just say I asked Aunt Meg to invite her in my place and she has done so.
When Grace came home from her history exam that day,
Bertha told her story and gave Aunt Meg's cordial note.
You must come to me in Bertha's place,
Wrote Aunt Meg.
I feel as if I knew you from her letters,
And I will consider you as a sort of honorary niece,
And I'll treat you as if you were Bertha herself.
Isn't that splendid?
" said Bertha diplomatically.
Of course you'll go,
Gracie!
Oh,
I don't know,
Said Grace in bewilderment.
Are you sure you don't want to go yourself?
Indeed I do want to go dreadfully.
But as I've told you,
It's impossible.
If I'm disappointed,
Aunt Meg mustn't be.
You must go Grace,
That's all there is to it.
In the end Grace did go,
A little puzzled and doubtful still,
But thankful beyond words to escape the drudgery of the counter and the noise and heat of the city.
Bertha,
Meanwhile,
Went home.
Feeling a little bit blue in secret.
But also feeling quite sure that if she had to do it all over again,
She would do just the same thing.
The summer slipped quickly by and finally two letters came to Bertha.
One from Aunt Meg and one from Grace.
I've had a lovely time,
" wrote the latter.
And,
Alberta,
What do you think?
I'm going to stay here always.
I'm going back to school next month.
But Aunt Meg said this is to be my home after this.
She makes me call her that and she says I must stay with her for good.
Birth of Red Aunt Meg's Letter Grace is writing to you and will have told you I intend to keep her here.
You know I've always wanted a daughter of my own.
But my greedy brothers and sisters would never give me one of theirs.
So I intend to adopt Grace.
She is the sweetest girl in the world.
I'm very grateful to you for sending her here.
You'll not know her when you see her.
She's grown plump and rosy.
That night,
Bertha folded her letters up with a smile.
I have a very delightful feeling.
That I am the good angel in a storybook.
She said to herself smugly.
