Those Juniors, Part 38: Story-Telling Stratagem, #2

by Eric B. Hare

Last week: Story-telling is one of the best ways to impress a lesson or point on others. There are many wholesome, true stories out there for all ages. When telling a story, there are certain things you must do: know your story, see it, adapt it, tell it, live it, feel it, and have a climax.

After you know your story, you must see it. Good storytellers do not memorize their stories. They build a picture of the story as they read it, and then simply tell what they see. This enables them to retell stories other people wrote in the first person—for of course it wouldn't do to recite a story written in the first person unless you were the actual writer!


For instance, it is perfectly proper for me to write or tell this little story:

One day, after I had inspected our village school at Awbawa, as usual a large group of patients came up into the schoolhouse. Among them was a man with a huge boil on his forearm. Groaning with pain, he cried, “Oh, doctor, please get your knife and cut this boil. I can’t stand it any longer!”

“But, uncle, it will hurt if I cut it,” I replied.

“Never mind, doctor! Never mind! Cut it,” he went on; “cut deep and press all the matter out. I can’t work any more, I can’t sleep any more, and I can’t stand it any longer.”

I examined the boil, and then smiled as I replied, “Fancy your asking me to hurt you!”

“Never mind, doctor,” he urged with all earnestness; “take your knife and cut, and if you think I’ll move too much, have these six men sit all over me.”

So I did that very thing. I called the men. I had them sit all over him, and while they held him tight, I cut. It hurt. He groaned. I said, “Shall I stop?”

He said, “No, keep on!” And I kept on till it was all finished and a nice clean bandage was tied around it.

Then what do you think he did? He came up close with the tears still in his eyes, and taking my hand—the hand that had cut him and hurt him—in his, he stroked it and said, “Thank you, doctor! Thank you, doctor! Thank you so much, doctor!”

Now, if you memorized that story you would be in difficulty, because it is written in the first person, and you didn’t do and say all those things. But make a picture of it. Can you see the bamboo schoolhouse? Can you see the medical missionary up there? The school children have just come down from school, and up the ladder go the patients. Can you see the man with the boil, and the other six big jungle men beside him? As a third person standing near by, can you hear the missionary and his patient going through their dialogue?

All right. Now tell what you see and hear, and without any embarrassment, you will say:

“One day after one of our medical missionaries had finished inspecting a village school away over in Burma, as usual a large group of patients came up into the bamboo school building. Among them was a man with a huge boil on his forearm, and, groaning with pain, he cried, ‘Oh, doctor, please get your knife and cut this boil. I can’t stand it any longer!’

“‘But, uncle, it will hurt if I cut it,’ the missionary replied.

“‘Never mind, doctor! Never mind! Cut it,’ he went on; ‘cut deep and press all the matter out. I can’t work any more, I can’t sleep any more, and I can’t stand it any longer.’

“Our medical missionary examined the boil and then smiled as he replied, ‘Fancy your asking me to hurt you!’

“‘Never mind, doctor!’  the man urged. ‘Take your knife and cut! And if you think I’ll move too much, have those six men sit all over me,’

“So the missionary did just that very thing. He called the six men and had them sit all over the man with the boil, and while they held him tight, he cut. It hurt. The poor man groaned. The missionary said, ‘Shall I stop?’ But he said, ‘No, no, keep on I’ And the missionary kept on till it was all finished and a nice clean bandage was tied around it. Then what do you think the grateful man did? He came up close to the missionary, with the tears still in his eyes, and, taking in his the hand that had cut him and hurt him, he stroked it and said, ‘Thank you, doctor! Thank you, doctor! Thank you so much, doctor!’ ”

Adapt Your Story—Stories must be adapted to the age of the children. The vocabulary of cradle roll and kindergarten children is so limited that action and facial expression are necessary to supplement the words. Repetition of words and phrases, and even of the same story, is very pleasing to these little ones, and it is common to hear them say when a story is done, “Now tell it again.”1

The age of children also demands the omission of unsuitable material, so that in telling the story of Joseph instead of going into detail about the experience with Potiphar’s wife, we go over that part as quickly as possible, simply saying, “Because Potiphar’s wife told lies about Joseph, he was put in prison.” Sometimes the adapting of a story to age requires that a mere outline be built up with probable conversation. Examples of this modification will be studied under the section, "Feeling Your Story.”2

Stories are adapted also according to environment. My little folks in the tropics could not appreciate stories of snow and ice. Country children and city children live in very different worlds, and unless a great deal of preparation is made before the story is told, it is very easy for a story to be distorted.

One summer after a very pleasant Junior Camp for the Eureka district held at Oliver Cookson’s ranch at Redwood Creek, we stayed on for a few days’ rest. One day we were smiling together because my little Peter, who had never seen a cow milked before, didn’t feel happy till we put the milk into a bottle as we have it in the city. Then Mr. Cookson told us this one: A few days before, a little 6-year-old girl from the city had been their guest. In fascination she had followed Uncle Oliver all around the ranch, asking questions every minute of the time. One morning she came upon Mr. Cookson as he was cleaning the cowshed. With his shovel he was putting the manure into his wheelbarrow. But it all looked very repulsive to this darling little girl, and she said, with her little nose turned up, “What are you going to do with that dirty stuff, Uncle Oliver?”

“Why, I’m going to put it on my artichokes,” he replied.

“On your artichokes!” she exclaimed with horror. “Why, we put mayonnaise on ours.”

Of course she did, the little dear, for the only artichokes she knew anything about were the cooked ones that mother put on the table.

Stories are adapted also according to the theme that we want to illustrate. From the story of Joseph we can take excellent illustrations for any of these themes:

1. The results of conceit and favoritism.

2. God’s way of testing His workmen.

3. All things work together for good.

4. The reward of faithfulness.

In none of the cases would we tell all the details of the whole story, but we would emphasize the parts that had a bearing on the chosen theme, and briefly pass over the other parts.

Tell Your Story—Without apology, without sidetracking, without pausing to preach a little here and a little there, without backtracking, without reminiscing, tell your story clearly, directly, and logically.3  What do we mean by backtracking? Listen!

Once upon a time there was a little boy whose name was Moses. And—but of course his mother didn’t call him Moses. The princess called him Moses, when she found him in the river; because Moses means “drawn out,” and the Princess drew him out of the little floating basket, because, you see, his mother put him in the little basket and placed the basket in the river, because the wicked king had made a decree that all the boy babies of the children of Israel were to be thrown into the river. You remember that the children of Israel used to live in Canaan, but there was a famine there, and so they came to live in Egypt. Well, this wicked king made slaves out of the Israelites and had them make bricks for his cities. The wicked king was called Pharaoh. And he was so proud, and his palace was so beautiful. Servants stood behind him with fans made of the most gorgeous feathers you ever saw.

Enough! Enough! What has happened to the little baby? He has been lost in a backtrack maze of famine, bricks, feathers, and wicked kings.

Stories are not told by accident. Stories are built, and it takes thought and practice to tell the story clearly and logically.

(Next week: “Story-Telling Stratagem, Part 3.”)

1. See “The Engine That Jumped the Tracks,” Christian Storytelling, by A. W. Spalding, p. 89.
2. For a beautiful example of building up a story read “The Sad Little Prince Who Was Made Glad,” Christian Storytelling, by A. W. Spalding, p. 82.
3. See “The Little Boy With a Bad Uncle Called ‘Old Nick,’” Christian Storytelling, by A. W. Spalding, p. 93.

Copyright © 1973 by Eric B. Hare. Used by permission