Short Princess Bedtime Stories: 5 Calm Tales to Read Tonight

1. Princess Mei and the Night Garden

About 2½ minutes (360 words) · Ages 4–6 · Theme: patience · Ask after: "What is something you waited for, and how did it feel when it finally happened?"

Princess Mei was the youngest gardener in the palace. Every morning she pulled on her green boots, picked up her little watering can and said good morning to every plant. "Good morning, tomatoes. Good morning, beans. Good morning, sleepy roses."

One spring day, old Tobias, the head gardener, gave her a seed. It was round and silver, like a tiny pearl.

"This is a moonbell," he said. "Plant it by the fountain, give it water, and wait."

Mei planted it. She watered it. She waited.

The next morning there was nothing.

The morning after that, there was a green shoot no bigger than her little finger. "Hello," Mei whispered. "Take your time."

Weeks went by. The moonbell grew one leaf, then two, then ten. It climbed up a stick Mei found for it, and at the very top a bud appeared, closed tight like a baby's fist.

Every morning Mei checked the bud. Every morning it was closed.

"Maybe it's broken," she told Tobias.

Tobias smiled. "Some flowers keep their own hours," he said. "You might be looking at the wrong time of day."

That evening, after supper and a warm bath, Mei put on her slippers and her softest cardigan. Her mother lit a lantern, and together they walked down the garden path. The palace windows glowed yellow behind them. The fountain splashed softly.

When they reached the fountain, the bud was moving. Very slowly, one petal opened. Then another. Then all of them, until a white flower as big as a teacup shone in the moonlight.

Mei held her breath. Her mother held her hand.

"It was waiting for the moon," Mei whispered. "And I was waiting for it."

They sat on the edge of the fountain for a while, just looking. Far away, an owl said "hoo," once, very politely.

Then Mei yawned the biggest yawn of the day.

"Goodnight, moonbell," she said. "Thank you for opening."

They walked back to the palace with the lantern swinging. Mei climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Outside, the white flower stayed open all night, keeping watch over the garden while the little gardener slept.

2. Princess Amara and the Seal Who Couldn't Sleep

About 2½ minutes (375 words) · Ages 4–7 · Theme: helping someone calm down · Ask after: "What helps you feel sleepy at night?"

Princess Amara lived in a lighthouse at the edge of the kingdom, where the land stopped and the sea began. Every evening she climbed the spiral stairs with her grandfather to light the great lamp. The light swept slowly around and around, so the fishing boats could find their way home.

One night, on her way back down the stairs, Amara heard a small sound just outside the lighthouse door. Hmmph. Hmmph.

She took a flashlight and opened the door. On the flat rock by the step sat a young seal, wide awake, with big round eyes.

"What's the matter?" asked Amara.

"I can't sleep," said the seal. "Every time I close my eyes, the light comes round again. Whoosh. And my eyes pop open."

Amara looked up at the lamp. She couldn't turn it off. The boats needed it.

"Hmm," she said, and sat down next to the seal.

She thought about what helped her fall asleep. A song. A warm blanket. Counting.

"Let's not close our eyes yet," she said. "Let's count the light instead."

So they watched. The beam swept over the water, silver and slow. "One," said Amara softly. Then darkness, and the sound of the waves. Then the light again. "Two," said the seal.

"Every time it comes," said Amara, "breathe in. Every time it goes, breathe out."

Light: breathe in. Dark: breathe out.

Three. Four. Five.

Amara hummed the tune her grandfather hummed while he polished the lamp. It had no words, just a slow up and a slow down, like the sea.

Six. Seven. Eight.

By eleven, the seal was breathing slowly. By twelve, his eyes stayed closed even when the light came round. By thirteen, he was making a tiny whistling snore.

Amara stayed until fourteen, just to be sure. Then she closed the door softly and tiptoed back up the spiral stairs.

"Where were you?" asked her grandfather.

"Just outside, helping someone fall asleep," said Amara.

She climbed into her bed by the round window and pulled up the quilt. The light swept over the sea, over the rocks and over a small sleeping seal. Amara watched it come round once, and twice, breathing in and breathing out. By the fourth time, she was asleep too.

3. Princess Wren's Button Jar

About 2½ minutes (366 words) · Ages 4–7 · Theme: sharing something you love · Ask after: "If you had a button jar, which memory would you put in it first?"

Princess Wren kept a big glass jar of buttons on her windowsill. It was full to the very top.

Every button had a story. The red one came from her first winter coat. The one shaped like a strawberry came from a market by the sea. The tiny gold one had fallen off the king's jacket at a picnic, and he had said, "Keep it, Wren. It's yours now."

On the evening before the Winter Lantern Festival, Wren heard a sigh from the sewing room. Mrs. Okafor, the palace tailor, was holding up a long blue coat.

"This is the coat for the lantern-bearer," she said. "It needs seven buttons, and I have only one. Every shop in town is closed for the festival."

Wren looked at the coat. Then she ran upstairs and came back with her jar, hugging it with both arms.

They tipped the buttons onto the table. They made a small mountain that clicked and sparkled.

"Choose any you like," said Wren. Then she felt a little pinch inside, because she loved every single one.

Mrs. Okafor didn't choose. She pushed the mountain gently back toward Wren. "You choose," she said. "And tell me about each one."

So Wren chose. The red one from her first winter coat, so the lantern-bearer would stay warm. The strawberry one, so the coat would remember summer. A blue one that matched the cloth exactly. A white one like a snowflake. A green one from her old raincoat. And, after a long think, the tiny gold one from the king's picnic.

"Six," said Wren. "Plus yours makes seven."

Mrs. Okafor sewed them on while Wren told each button's story again, more quietly each time.

The next night, the lantern-bearer walked through the town in the long blue coat. Seven buttons glinted in a row, all different. Wren watched from the balcony, wrapped in a blanket.

Back in her room, Wren looked at her jar. It wasn't full anymore. There was space at the top. Wren felt the pinch again, and then it turned into something warm.

"Plenty of room," she said, "for new stories."

She climbed into bed and fell asleep counting buttons instead of sheep.

4. Princess Lila and the Slow Message

About 2½ minutes (361 words) · Ages 5–8 · Theme: slowing down and noticing · Ask after: "What are three nice things you noticed today?"

Princess Lila was the fastest messenger in the palace. She zoomed down the long halls in her wheelchair, around the corners and up the ramp to the library, always with a letter on her lap.

"Message for the cook!" Zoom. "Message for the librarian!" Zoom. Nobody delivered faster.

One evening, as the sky turned the color of peaches, the queen handed her an envelope. On the front it said: For the Watchman of the East Tower. On the back, in smaller letters: Please deliver slowly. The messenger must tell him three beautiful things she noticed on the way.

Lila frowned. She had never noticed anything on the way. She had always been too fast.

She started rolling. Slowly. More slowly than she ever had.

In the kitchen corridor, she smelled bread cooling on the racks, warm and sweet. That's one, she thought.

In the courtyard, the palace cat was asleep in the last patch of sunshine, curled up so tight he looked like a loaf of bread himself. That's two.

On the path to the East Tower, she stopped and looked up. The sky had gone from peach to deep blue, and right above the tower the first star had appeared. Lila stayed still for a long moment. That's three.

The watchman was waiting at the foot of the tower with a mug of cocoa.

"A message from the queen," said Lila, "delivered slowly." She handed it over and told him about the bread, the cat and the first star.

The watchman opened the envelope, smiled and showed her what was inside. There were only four words: Thank you for looking.

"Every evening I watch the kingdom from up there," he said. "I like knowing that someone down here is watching too."

He gave her the cocoa, and she drank it slowly, of course.

Lila rolled home even more slowly than she had come, because now she knew how. She noticed the fountain whispering. She noticed the lamps being lit, one by one.

Back in her room, she looked out the window at the first star. By now it had many friends.

"Goodnight, star," said Lila, and she closed her eyes.

5. Princess Noor and the Unfinished Book

About 2½ minutes (381 words) · Ages 6–9 · Theme: imagination · Ask after: "How would you have ended the caravan's story?"

Princess Noor lived in a library in the middle of the desert. It had a blue dome, cool stone floors and more books than anyone had ever counted. Noor loved maps most of all, but she read everything.

One evening, while the sand outside turned pink and then purple, she found a book she had never seen before. It was bound in green cloth and called The Caravan of the Seven Wells.

Noor curled up on her favorite cushion and read. A girl and her camel crossed the desert, stopping at one well after another. At each well they met someone new: a potter, a boy with a flute, an old woman who grew figs in the sand. Then came the sixth well, and the girl could almost see the seventh.

She turned the page. It was blank.

So was every page after it.

Noor carried the book to Grandmother Hala, the head librarian, who sat with her mint tea by the window.

"Someone forgot to finish it," Noor said.

Grandmother Hala turned the empty pages slowly. "Or someone left it for the right reader," she said. "Some books wait a long time for that."

"But what happens at the seventh well?"

"I don't know," said Grandmother Hala. "Do you?"

Noor thought about the potter, the boy with the flute and the woman with the figs. She thought about how tired the camel must be. Then she took a pencil and, very carefully, began to write.

At the seventh well, she wrote, the girl found everyone she had met along the way. They had come by shorter roads to surprise her. The potter brought cups. The boy played his flute. The old woman brought a basket of figs. The camel drank and drank, then lay down in the warm sand. The girl lay down beside it, looked up at the stars, and knew she had arrived.

Noor read it aloud. Grandmother Hala nodded slowly, the way she did when a book was good.

"Shall we put it back on the shelf?" she asked.

"Yes," said Noor. "It's finished now."

She slid the green book between two tall atlases and climbed the winding stairs to bed. As she fell asleep, she thought of the caravan, resting at the seventh well at last.