City of San Bruno Once Upon a Time's, 5 May 2020

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From YouTube: San Bruno Library Presents "Once Upon a Time" #58

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San Bruno Library Presents "Once Upon a Time"

Storytime 58
"Interesting Clothing" with Miss Susan
Taped by San Bruno Cable February 2014
trt 28:19

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Storytime storytime.

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Storytime storytime.

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Hello and welcome to the San Bruno.

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Library's, cable storytime, once upon a time my name is Miss Susan and I'll be reading books to you today. I have so many great books to share with you and they're all about interesting clothes from saris to.

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Malakas to robes to turbo sews all.

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Kinds of cool things, but before we get to the books, why don't we sing our welcome song? Are you ready we're glad you're.

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Here today we're glad you're here today hi-ho the Mary. Oh we're glad you're here today. Let's do it one more time. Okay, we're glad you're here today we're glad you're here today, hi-ho the Mary. Oh we're glad you're here today, I am.

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Glad that you're here today and I hope you really like the books I'm bringing the first one we have today is called Mama's saris by puja machi Johnny.

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Mama, when can I wear a saree I jump.

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Onto my mama's bed and sit down, I watch her reach under the bed and pull out a leather suitcase inside are her saris, the yellow, satin one she wore for uma, Diddy's baby shower the peach colored one that is as fine as a spider's web and my favorite, her red wedding saree, which I've only seen once because it's because it is carefully wrapped in an old bedsheet. When you get older, she says unzipping the suitcase and putting it on the bed, but.

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I'm 7 today and we're having a party I say: that's why you're wearing one.

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Mama only takes it out her suitcase on special occasions. Nanny mom wears a sari every day, even when she sleeps the folds and nooks of nanny masari's hold lots of Secrets I, always find coins tipped into the ends and safety pins fastened on the inside and I smell the scent of cardamom and sandalwood soap. All over look.

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At her beautiful sorry.

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Mama flips open the top of the suitcase I opened my eyes wider and try to soak up all the colors will.

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You help me choose one to where she asks. Yes,.

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I say maybe after we have decided on hers, I can pick one out for me how about this one. She holds a purple sari up to her.

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Cheek mama, you look like an eggplant I, laugh.

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This one mama unfolds a black chiffon sari that shimmers like the nighttime sky. No, you wore that for Devi Mossy's anniversary party I.

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Can't believe you remember that.

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I always remember the saris, my mother wears for Diwali. She was wrapped in a lavender, sorry, the first time nanny McCamey visit. She wore a magenta one with a herd of galloping deer embroidered on it. I think.

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Mama looks so pretty when she wears her saris.

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They're so different from the gray sweaters and brown pants that she wears to work every day.

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What about this one I point to a sorry that I, don't think I've seen before it is orange, like fire with edges that look like they've, been dipped in red paint, I wore that sari the day we brought you home from the hospital mama smiles. All your aunties and uncles came to greet you wear.

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It again today there she is just as a baby.

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Mama unfurls it it shines like the afternoon sun. I watch her tuck one end into her petticoat and pull the other end over her left shoulder. Then she folds the pleats weaving the fabric into an accordion between her slim fingers. I looked down at my mary janes and corduroy jumper I feel so plain. Next to her.

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Why can't I wear a sari I asked you.

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Know saris are for grown-ups, she says even.

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If I fold the sari several times it.

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Will spill off your shoulders and get tangled around your ankles? How will you walk or play on.

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Your new swing set, but you never let me do anything I say yesterday, you said I couldn't wear silver party shoes to school, even though you wear high heels to work every day.

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Well, why don't you wear your chunni and charlie mama suggests, holding the tight blouse and flowing skirt that hang in her closet? You told me all the mirrors on the skirt make you feel like a princess know what I am old enough to wear a saree. Just like you I, say I, don't need a night light anymore and I can pour my own glass of milk in the morning without spilling anything.

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Now she is a big girl. Isn't she mama is silent for a long time, then she says: I. Remember the first time I wore one of naughty masari's. It made me feel like a big girl. Please.

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Mama, let me pick out a sari I whisper I know which one I want to wear. Well, you are getting taller and we.

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Could use lots of safety pins to secure all the tucks and pleats mama puts her arms around me? Yes, you can wear a sari, but just today.

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Because it's your birthday.

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Can I wear one again on my.

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Eighth birthday, I, say: hi Dan I'll be as tall as you mama.

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Laughs she sits beside her suitcase and begins to show me the saris one by one soon, there's only one at the bottom of the bag. That's it I say it's blue with gold, flowers that dance along the border.

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Stand up on the bed, she tells me she wraps the fabric around me again and again: I try to look at myself in the mirror. Wait.

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You're not ready.

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Yet she says grabbing my hands and squeezing them tightly. She pulls out the heart-shaped tin from her closet inside are her fancy bangles.

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Mama slides six gold bangles on to my left arm. They are so big when I put my arm down. They fall jingling as they hit the floor. We'll have to ask 90 men to send new bangles to match this sorry mama teases.

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Can I look in the mirror now I ask just.

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One more thing: mama opens the top drawer of her dresser and takes out a small box inside stuck two little squares of plastic, our bindis in many different colors and shapes circles; diamonds teardrops. She removes a glittery one and sticks it right between my eyebrows.

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Now you can look, she says beaming I lean over to the mirror, gathering the saree carefully. So what do you think she asks I feel.

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Am floating in an ocean of blue the shiny material makes me Sparkle I think it looks. Beautiful I run my fingers along the edge of my saree and I turn to look into Mama's big brown eyes. I.

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Think I look like you.

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The end didn't.

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She look beautiful in her sari.

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Well, our next story is set in Mauritania in West Africa and there some of the women wear a special robe called a mawatha. This is called deep in the Sahara by Kelly Canaan and it's illustrated by Jota Haddadi, deep in the Sahara sky, yellow with heat ripple dunes slide and scorpions scuttle in a pale pink house, the shape of a tall cake. You watch Mama's mawatha flutter as she prays more than all of the stars in a desert sky. You want a mulatto, so you can be beautiful too.

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When you tell mama she smiles mala, a mulatto is for more than beauty, she says and her silver heels go: tick, tick, tick across the tiles.

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Boys and turbans on donkeys go men in white, booboo stroll your sister Selma and it will offer glows nothing but dark eyes show more than all the camels in the land you wanna malapa, so you can be mysterious.

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When you tell Salma she laughs, o manasa is for more than mystery. She says, as her flip flops flip the sand.

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Women whisper on the corner, veiled head-to-toe in Milazzo, color of lime and mango more than all the gold on a bride's crown. You want a mulatto, so you can be a lady.

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When you tell cousin Aisha, she Pat's you on the head, as if.

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You're still a child lalla.

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A mulatto is for more than being like us, she says and saunters away with the women through the dust.

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Trees of red flowers, bloom with heat, acacia, pods, rattle and fruit back sleep grandmother, sits on a cushion to brew tea, her munafa, the robe of ancient royalty, more than all the mint leaves sold in the market. You want him with lava, so you can be like a long-ago queen to Grandma.

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When you tell grandmother she hums hmm um when lava is for more than old tradition, she says and gives you a glass to sip, minty and sweet with foam.

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Goats, waggle, home to tents, for milking and everywhere in the air is the evening call to prayer men, hurry to mosques and all the women to quiet places to pray except.

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You mama, you say more than all the dates in an oasis I want a mulatto, so I can pray like you do.

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Mama stops and looks at you.

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Then she gives one nod: Z good. She says and gathers a mulatto and slips it over your head under your arm round and round amma.

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Lafa, as blue as the sahara sky, as blue as the ink in the quran as blue as a stranger's eye.

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Well, hi come mama, says and climbs the stairs as the round white Sun is falling and the mosques are all calling, and so you take a little step and then another up up. Schwa Shui little by little, your mula for rippling down your back and your arms and your ankles like water.

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The sky, the Sun, slowly dips down behind the dunes and now standing on the roof you understand, Amma lava is for beauty. Lava is for mystery, lava is for tradition and belonging, but even more, it is for something else. I know what a mulatto is for. You tell mama.

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Amma lava is for faith and together you face east your malapa fluttering, behind, like wings.

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That was deep in the Sahara. Well, I hoped you enjoyed those.

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First, two books we'll have some more to share with you in just a few moments. I hope to see you soon.

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And welcome back to once, upon a time the San Bruno, library's cables, storytime I'm, miss Susan and today I'm reading books, all about all kinds of interesting clothes, and our next book is called. What can you do with it or bow so by Carmen Tafolla and illustrated by Amy Cordova.

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What can you do without a bow, so mama spreads? It.

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Like a butterfly to pretty up her dress for Sunday morning or wraps it into a cozy cradle for baby brother, so her hands are free to weave a braid. For me,.

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Baby brother ducks under addabbo so to play hide-and-seek and do.

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A peekaboo peek, big sister.

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Twirl Zota bow so round and round and ropes it through her shiny hair.

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Grandma uses hers to keep the called away on winter nights. It's nice and warm in there.

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Yesterday, Theo.

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Wiped up a spill with Mama's blue at our bow so and I helped too it.

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Was full of sticky red ketchup spots, but.

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Daddy washed it clean as new on my birthday, we swung a pinata up into the tree and wound that are both so over our eyes when we burst that big ball of treats out came.

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A yummy surprise.

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You can turn it into a secret tunnel if you have two chairs or a sash for.

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A pirate at sea.

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Or even a flying, cape and the superhero is me.

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When my puppy didn't feel good, I made him a bandage all nicely tied and when my cousins turned my room into a playground, it became a long red slide.

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But what I like to do most with that are both so is dance, la Bamba, my favorite dance, I.

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Dance and dance and dance with my rep, oh so I, swirl and I leap.

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Until I'm so tired that I fall fast asleep on Mama's bed, where she covers me, oh so.

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Gently with her red ball so.

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The end she had a lot of fun with that I posed so didn't she. Our next book, is set in South Africa. Let's see what we're reading today, jameelah's dress by Nikki daily mama was very pleased with the new material she'd found at Mandy's. She had worked hard to earn money for it. It's beautiful mama said Jamila stroking the crisp new material. Yes, it is beautiful. It costs a lot of money, but I need something special to wear for Thelma's wedding said mama.

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Jamila helped mama wash the stiffness out of the new material together. They hung it up to dry I'll, look after it, mama said Jamila. Thank you said. Mama just makes sure that taxi doesn't jump up and dirty. My material okay said Jamila, there's taxi the dog he'd better, not jump up there. A warm breeze blew Jamila, rubbed her cheek against the soft material and followed the beautiful patterns with her finger when taxi barked mama called Jamila.

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Are you looking after my material, yes, mama, it's getting nice and dry said Jamila dreamily.

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Jamila suede beneath the folds of material as they flapped and wrapped around her into a dress when mama heard nothing going on, she called. Are you looking.

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After my material Jamila, there.

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Down the road when jameelah proud as a peacock to show thumber her beautiful dress for the wedding she passed, miss style hairdressers and the snack pack, grocery hi beautiful.

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Called old greasy hands who was fixing up fellas wedding car, oh I, don't think she was supposed to do that.

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Children sang qui.

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La Jamila African Queen, taxi barked and mrs. Zippy's chicken went wild.

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Then a boy on a bicycle who wasn't looking where he was going going, went skidding all over Mama's dress material. Oh, what.

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His photo studio, Archie heard the commotion. He ran out clutching his special camera and shouted hold. It Jamila.

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So jameelah posed the children pushed in taxi pushed in mrs. zeebee and her chicken pushed in and the boy on the bicycle just squeezed in they all smiled click.

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But when Thelma so jameelah, she scold it hi.

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Jamila, your mom is going to be very upset when she sees what you've done with her material and.

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Mama was mama was so upset that she couldn't even look at jameelah. She just looked at the dirty torn material and said, sadly, what.

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Am I going to wear for the.

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Wedding, everyone felt sorry for mama and cross with Jamila. Even Jamila was cross with jameelah. She hadn't meant to ruin Mama's material. It just happened a.

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Few days later, Archie sod Jamila coming down the road. Without her usual smile, he called Jamila.

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Why so sad come see the good news pointing.

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To a front-page photograph in the newspaper, Archie read: proudly jameelah African Queen a prize-winning photograph taken by our chica Malo. But instead of looking happy, jameelah started to cry and she told.

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Archie, all about Mama's messed up material.

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A sad sad story, jameelah said Archie, but it has a happy ending. He put his at his hand into his bag. Jameelah wiped her eyes, see.

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Taking out a bundle of money, I won big bucks for that photograph. Jameelah.

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Had never seen so much money, you can buy lots of things at the shops with that money. Archie said Jamila right, Archie.

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Laughed that's the happy ending in the afternoon. Archie arrived carrying a gift for jameelah's mama. What is this Archie mama asked in surprise, open.

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It mama open, it cried.

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Jamila mama unwrapped, the parcel inside was a beautiful piece of material from Anandi's, just like the first.

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Piece Jamila jumped up and down in Kosak okulu Thank, You Archie.

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Said mama? No, you must think wila jameelah African Queen said Archie holding up his prize-winning photograph. When mama saw it, she gave jameelah a big hug.

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After Archie had gone, jameelah helped mama wash the material and hang it up to dry. It's the most beautiful material in the world said Jamila mama, just smiled. They sang songs as they watched the feathery patterns. Dance in the warm breeze. Then mama and Jamila played a hand clapping game for a while. Let's do teapots said mom said Jamila, so jameelah taught mama to do a little song about a teapot with a spout. They dipped and tipped and the tea poured out and when they stopped the material felt warm and dry.

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So mama showed Jamila how to fold it, just as she had learned to do it when she was a little girl.

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That evening, mama cut and sewed until she had her special dress to wear to Thelma's wedding and when she finished there was a piece of material left over mama, measured it with her eye this way. And that way, and then she looked at sleeping jameelah and smiled the hands of the clock. Paused past midnight and mama was still hard at work. Every now and then she's saying softly to herself. We.

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Love Mila, African, Queen.

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Next day, at the wedding, Thelma looked radiant, mama, looked lovely and when Archie said smile, everyone guess who had the biggest smile I think it was Queen, Lutz, Camilla, yep.

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Was Queen l'chaim, Mila, African Queen? That's who the end Wow. She was lucky that Archie won that prize. Wasn't she our last book today is called Papa. Do you love me set in Kenya a boy and his Papa who are from the Masai group and look? They are wearing special robes too? Aren't they.

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Papa, do you love me? You came from your mama, whom I love your grandpa, paws and Grandmama's, who I honor and from me you are my tender heart and I love you.

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How much I love you more than the warrior loves to leap more than the bush baby loves the moon more than the elder loves his stories.

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How long I will love you as long as the wildebeests run on the Mara, the hippopotamus wallows in the mud and the Serengeti rolls to the sky.

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Papa, what would you do if I was hot? Well, we dressed.

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Under a green heart tree, what if thus gun the Sun scorched the leaves and they dropped off the branches, then I would stretch out my blanket till you were cool in my shade.

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What if I was thirsty, you would drink water from the calabash. What if the calabash was.

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Dry you'd fill it from the river. What if the river was dusty.

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And the creek was cracked I.

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Teach you to look for hidden streams and push through dry earth. Until you reached water, then tender heart. We would splash sweet water over our tongues.

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Papa, what if I was the herd boy I would be proud. What if I was the herd boy and I ate.

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Roasted meat till my belly was round and I tried to stay.

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I tried to guard the cattle, but my eyeballs got drowsy, then I would show you how to stay awake together, we'd sing to the full white moon and dance to the sweep of stars until your eyes were bright.

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What if I, fell asleep anyway and hyenas, crept in and killed a cow, and it was my birthright cow.

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Then tender heart I would.

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Still I would love you.

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What if I was afraid, I'd wrap my arms around you, so you could hear my heart beat like a drum what.

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If I eanes, blinked, yellow eyes at me, we'd throw back our heads and.

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How till they slank slink away.

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What if a lion proud in our camp switched his tail and rumbled for food and I was his food? Then tender heart, I'd shelter you with my shield, I'd shake my spear at the beasts till his great Mane trembled and he cowered in his den I.

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Will care for you, love you and teach you always because.

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I am your papa and you are my tender heart.

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Well, I hope you enjoyed all of the books that we read today where people were wearing such interesting clothes I. Hope you stopped by the library.

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To say hello to me or enjoy a storytime.

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With me, I'll see you the next time bye, bye.