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Welcome to get sleepy. The podcast where we listen, we relax and we get sleepy. I'm your host, Thomas, as always. It's a pleasure to have your company. So thanks for being here. Don't forget, you can sign up to our weekly newsletter by going to our website town page, I get sleepy dot com. It's the best way to stay in the loop with everything coming up on Get Sleep. Plus extra bits that might interest you, such as sleep tips that help us to get sleep.

Time to enjoy a better night's rest. In tonight's story, Teekay will be reading our soothing rendition of the old fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel. But don't worry, it's got a rather more positive spin compared to the story you've probably heard before. Now, this episode is very kindly sponsored by our friends at Helix Sleep, and if you are thinking of purchasing a new mattress in the near future, then remember that supporting our sponsors is another great way to support the podcast.

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So now let's settle in for our story. Take some time to bring your body and mind into a state of rest. Let your breathing slow down to a pace that is just right for you. Notice the control you have over the pace of your breath. Usually we breathe without any thought or control. But when we focus on it, we can slow our breathing to a nice, relaxed pace. And as you breathe a little slower, if your muscles permission to rest.

You have done enough for today. And in just the same way that you consciously slow down your breathing, you can consciously ease your mind. Thoughts may linger, and that's okay. Just let them slow down and gently drift in and out of your awareness.

And now that you've invited this slower pace. You can cozy up. And unlock your imagination. So imagine a forest that extends as far as the eye can see. Two trees cast a long shadow on the mossy ground. Follow these trees to the far edge of the woods. They're nestled in a clearing beneath towering pines is a small cabin, and this is where our story begins. Once upon a time, there was a wood carver who had two children named Johann and Margaret.

They lived in a little house at the edge of the forest. It was a quaint cabin made of wood with lace curtains on the windows. Outside, there was a beautiful garden. Margaret and your mom like to play amongst the flowers, which towered over their heads. They were happy children whose imaginations ran wild and their father was very proud of them. He worked hard, carving wood and selling his creations at a market in the nearby town. Every weekend he would push his cart with a big wooden wheel down the path to the village.

Their local children would marvel at all the things he made by hand. There were tiny horses that were old on wheels and thin wooden drumsticks. It made a wonderful sound when you bang them on the ground. There were flutes and painted balls and even delicate wooden mobiles to hang over a baby's crib. Johan and Margaret often accompanied their father on market day. They would carry his toys around the square and showed them to the other children. Sometimes they would just spend the afternoon chasing each other up and down the town streets.

It was a special treat to go to market day, their father would place the little silver coin in each of their pockets for them to spend any way they pleased. Their first stop was always the candy card, your hand like the liquor strings, while Margarette prefer the sugar drops. But when their father knew it would be a very busy day, he would tell the children to stay at the cabin and play with promises of sweet brought home in his pocket.

This particular week, Johan and Margaret were excited about going with their father into town. On the morning of market day, they woke up early and dressed in their best clothes. Then they pulled their father's car out of the shed around to the front of the house. Impact on his toys, the inside. By the time the woodcarver went to the garden, his children were already waiting for him. He picked up the handles of the cart and began to push it was a one wheeled contraption that was easy to maneuver over any rules or bumps in the road.

As he pushed it on the tube, it was the same tune every market day. Johan and Margaret knew it well and sang along their voices, ringing bright and cheerful through the trees. The road from their house was a well-worn track. It had two parallel lines that cut through the grass and marked with carriage wheels and traveled over the years.

Every so often, Johan and Margaret began to escape, they called to their father to catch up as they hurried down the path. He laughed and cried after them. Don't go too far ahead, he warned, you don't want to get lost out here in the woods. That's how the witch will find you. We won't get lost. The children said and giggled as they went a little further down the road and we aren't scared of any witch. They waited for him by a large boulder that sat at the halfway point between their home and town.

Margaret, climb to the top of the rock using the little hand and footholds that had been worn into it over time, your hand picked up a small stick and dragged it around the boulder in a circle. You love this scratching sound it made as it crossed the jagged stone faced. After a minute, they saw their father's cap emerge from behind the green foliage that grew on both sides of the road. He smiled when he saw them and they waved in return.

Sometimes they would play hide and seek as they made their way into town. It would look up at the sky for just a moment and his children would run behind a large bush or tree frog.

You would call out to them, ready or not, and then search both sides of the path. But there was no time for hide and seek today as they had to get to the market early, the sky looked like rain was coming later on. So the woodcarver wanted to make the most of the morning hours. By the time they reach town, the other settlers were beginning to set up their tables and staff. The woodcarver directed his cart to its usual spot on the east side of the square.

He pulls down a white leather blanket he kept tucked in the cart and unrolled it on the ground. One by one, he lined up all the toys, games and knickknacks he had made. This was Johan and Margareth, favorite job to help with each of them pick a type of toy to set up in a little display on the blanket. Margaret chose the rolling animal. She placed them all in a circle organized by heightH. Yohann chose the games.

He lay down a boomerang, a chessboard, a set of pickup sticks and a Jacob's ladder, encircling them all with a jump rope. It had delicate wooden handles shaped like hourglasses. When they were finished, their father came over to inspect their work. He muttered his approval as he tapped a small wooden elephant on the head. Well, Don, you said with a smile, he pressed the shiny silver coin into each of their palms and told them to go have fun.

As always, Johan and Margaret went to find the candy seller. By this time, the market square was bustling with people, the stalls were packed together like sardines, and shoppers milled about in all directions searching for the perfect linen jam or ribbon to buy. At one stall, a man haggled with a food seller over a large bowl of strawberries and another, a woman tested a long break for weight and balance.

Margaret in your hand waved through the crowd, making sure never to lose sight of one another, they dodged around swinging baskets and between aprons, a duck under hanging displays and hopped over a blanket where a woman was selling jewelry. When they reach the opposite side of the square, they looked around for their beloved candy seller. But the woman was nowhere to be seen. They walk to the far end of the row of cars, but all they saw were farmers selling eggs and a handful of jelly and jam makers.

They searched in the other direction next, passing a man selling warm loaves of bread and a woman beside him with freshly churned butter. But still, the candy card was missing. Margaret, walk up to the banker and tapped him on the shoulder. Excuse me, sir, have you seen the woman who sells candy today? The baker shook his head. He had not seen her since last week. But perhaps Margaret should talk to the woman with the butter, she might know more.

Margaret went to the next all over and asked the same question, this woman said she'd heard a rumor that the candy seller had gone to live in the south of the country where there was more sun and less rain. Margaret, not it this made sense to her, it didn't rain an awful lot here, and it always meant her father had to close up shop before the end of the day. She walked back to her and told him the news their candy seller was gone and she would not be coming back any time soon.

You know, and sighed, Margaret patted him on the shoulder. It's all right if you told her brother. We'll just have to find candy somewhere else. And in hand, they return to their father's card. Overhead, a storm was brewing, heavy clouds gathered in the sky, blocking the sun from view. Their shadows turn the square, gray and sellers hurried to pack up their wares. Johan and Margaret help their father load all of his toys back into the cart.

Then they laid the leather blanket on top to protect them from the rain that was bound to go.

Together, they've rolled it out of the market square and onto the dirt road leading. Just before they reach the halfway boulder, heavy rain drops began to fall, the woodcarver set down his cart and pulled back a corner of the blanket. Margaret hopped up on to the edge of the cart and then slid down in among the toys. Johan was a tad shorter than his sister to the woodcarver, lifted him up and set him down gently beside her and he rolled the corner of the blanket over their heads and tucked it down behind their backs.

He picked up the car, Catano, and continued his slow but steady pace toward home. Underneath the blanket are children who are warm and cozy. Raindrops spattered above their heads. Picards swayed from side to side all night long with the sound of the rain, combined with the rhythmic motion of the card with soothing. Back and forth, they rocked. As the drops came pattering down. The children leaned against each other and enjoyed the ride. They felt their eyelids growing heavy, and before long they were fast asleep.

They weren't sure how long they slept with the next thing they knew, their father was pulling back the blanket and they were home. Margaret climbed over the side of the car and then turned back and help Johan do the same. Together with their father, they unloaded all the toys and then rolled the cart back into the safety of the shed inside the cabin, the woodcarver, little warm fire. The flames crackle and hiss as they flickered over the damp locks.

Soon, their home was nice and toasty. On nights like this one, the children like to bring out all their blankets and pillows and build a fort across from the fire. Snuggled down inside the soft fold of fabric and were asleep. That night, they dreamt of candy canes and gum drop of gingerbread and lollipops. And of running along down a winding path deeper and deeper into the woods. They awoke the next morning, the sound of rain against the window all day they stayed inside playing games and hide and seek behind the furniture.

Her father sat at his workbench and carved little wooden ducks and geese, concentrating as he made delicate lines for wings and bills and webbed feet. Johan and Margaret once again slept in their Ford by the fire and dreamed of adventures they'd like to have. The next morning was quite the same as the one before, and so it continued day after day. The rain lasted for a whole week. By the time the weekend had arrived, the children wished for nothing more than to see the sun again.

Their father also hoped for a break in the weather so he could return to the market and sell everything he'd made. The rain did not let up entirely, but it listened to a gentle drizzle on market morning. If it stayed the way it was more of a fine mist than a storm, a few people might come to the market for shopping. So he packed up the car and prepared to make his way into town.

Because of the unpredictable weather, he told Johan and Margaret to wait for him at home. They could build another fort or play a game of checkers in the bedroom. He suggested the two children waited at the edge of the road and waved to their father as he rolled his cart out of sight. Back inside, they couldn't think of anything they really wanted to do. They had played all the games and built all the fourth. They had finished a grand tournament of checkers, 45 rounds at all and had put together every jigsaw puzzle they could find.

There was simply nothing else to do at home. Perhaps they could play in the garden, Margaret said, but the flowers were wet and the ground was covered in puddles and they couldn't find any bunnies to play with. They splashed a few times through the deepest pools of water, but soon grew tired of this game, just like all the others. What if we made a president for father John suggested Margaret thought about her brother's words, their father was so kind and he did so many nice things for both of them, they loved him more than anyone.

It would be nice to make him the perfect gift. But what should it be? I would wonder he already had everything he needed for woodcarving, he had all his tools and a sturdy workbench. Then she had an idea. If there was one thing their father was always looking for, it was the perfect piece of wood to carve. That's what they could do this afternoon. She realized they could go into the forest and find him the best piece of wood he had ever seen.

They could give it to him as a special gift when he returned home from the market later that evening. She went to the closet and got out dry shoes for herself and had. Then she pulled their coats down from where they hung and little pegs by the door. She wrapped a scarf around her brother's neck and put one on two for good measure. Closing the door gently behind them, Johan and Margaret set off together into the woods. A little footpath began at the edge of the garden and led the way into the trees.

At the start of the forest, the trees were spaced a good distance apart. Although the light was muted by the clouds, it still flowed freely between the branches. Little flowers dotted the path, some were white with blue Santas, others were bright orange and shaped like stars. Johan stopped to look at every new flower he came across. While Margaret hopped from tree to tree counting as she went. One, two, three, on and on, she counted.

By the time she got to 50, the children found themselves deep in the port here, the trees grew closer together. The shades of green were darker, tucked away from the open sky. Looking down at their feet, Margaret saw the path had turned Pache. Clumps of grass and weeds cut the trail into pieces which were farther apart than they had been just a little while ago. Margaret and Yohann looked around the. There was nothing to be found in the way of logs or branches that would be good for carving.

They would have to venture even deeper into the woods. Looking ahead, they saw the trail disappear completely. Just a few steps away, it was eaten up by the dark green moss that grew on every surface that could find. You had reached this small hand deep into his pocket at the bottom. He found a crushed pile of biscuits he'd been munching on the week before. He goes just based around the drums and pulled them out. He opened his hand and showed them to Margaret.

We can sprinkle these on the ground as we walk, he said, then we can always find our way back home. Johan dropped a pile of crumbs on the ground there and sat by the end of the path, the first mark of their great adventure. They kept their eyes fixed on the ground as they want, scanning every inch of it for a decent chunk of what? They found a few scrawny twigs and a number of enormous logs, but nothing that would work as a gift for their father.

As they walked, Johan tossed little handfuls of crumbs on the ground, you take a step. And sprinkle the crumbs, get them sprinkle, step, then sprinkle. He found a good rhythm to follow and it led him deeper and deeper into the trees. They didn't know how long they had been walking when they realized it was starting to get dark above them, the sky was hidden behind a thick canopy of dusky pines. Around them, the shadows of the forest were long, thin.

Even if they concentrated, they could no longer make out details in the distance, the light was too them, it was time to head back on. Your hand turn to find the last pile of crumbs he'd left on the ground, you look behind her to both sides, but the crumbs at vanished. Margaret looked all around where she was standing, but couldn't find them either. They walk back and forth and around in circles, but there were no crumbs to be found.

Then they saw a raven perched on a nearby branch, it was munching contentedly on a mouthful of biscuit. Oh, no, said Margaret. The bird has eaten our trail of crumbs. Without them, the children had no way to find the path back home. We lost that Yohann plopping down to the ground. But has he landed on momos, a surprising smell, got his attention, he lifted his nose in the air and sniff. How odd he thought he was definitely smelling the familiar scent of freshly baked gingerbread.

Where could it be coming from? He wanted. He stood up and followed his nose toward a dense cluster of trees not far away. Margaret soon caught up with him, and together they approached the grove of Pines. The trunk stood so close together here, the children had to turn sideways in order to fit between them. On the other side, they came to a thick wall of bushy ferns. Margaret reached out and pushed apart the stem. They're in a little clearing was the strangest cottage that children had ever seen.

It was a single story tall, but the roof stood up at odd angle. On one end, there was a large chimney which connected to a rounded tile. Next to that was a rectangle with soft edges and on the far end, the roof came to a neat little point. On every edge, there was a drizzle of white and the whole thing was made entirely of gingerbread.

Below the roof was the body of the house, it had sugar pane windows and a chocolate door lined with miniature truffles. There were lights made of gumdrops and spun sugar hedges with little movement flowers. Lollipop trees guarded the door and a line of red and white striped candy canes stood tall above peppermint bark, paving stones. The smell of the gingerbread was so enticing to the two children who had by this time missed their supper.

Johann's tummy, rumball. Without a second thought, he ran up to the house. Before Margaret could stop him, he reached out and peeled off a piece of fudge from a window pane. As soon as this we touched his lips, a light flickered on inside the cottage. Margaret hid behind a cotton candy Bush and Johan stayed as quiet as a mouse. The front door creaks open on lemon drop hinges. And those children that a voice inside. Johan and Margaret looked at each other, but neither one uttered a word.

There's no use hiding the voice, and I know you're out there. One of you is behind the bushes and the other has just eaten a piece of my windowpane. Your swallowed the last bit of fudge with a gulp. Margaret stood up slowly and made her way toward the door. She took Johan's hand and together they stepped into the gingerbread house. The chocolate door closes softly behind them. It was dimly lit inside the cottage, a small fire burned in a wood stove in the corner.

A few candles flickered on a table which seemed to be made of large blocks of taffy.

They're standing beside the fire was an old woman. Her hair was gray and curled down below her chin. She was dressed in black from head to toe.

Even her hands were covered in dark lace gloves. She looked the children up and down, then put the kettle on for tea. She motioned for them to sit at the table. They pulled up chairs with jellybean cushions.

Now tell me what two little children are doing this deep in the woods at night. She said. Margaret explained they had been looking for the perfect piece of wood for their father, Yohann told the woman how he had left piles of crumbs to mark their path, but the raven had eaten them. That's how we got lost, Margaret said. The old woman chuckled. Ravens' can be quite the Trickster's when they want to be, she said. She pulled two cups from the cupboard and filled them with hot tea.

She placed them in front of the children, drank, she said it will warm you up. Margaret and Johan were grateful for the tea, it filled their bellies with a comforting warmth that trickled out to their fingertips and toes. When they had finished, Margaret looked up at the woman. There was something she needed to know. Are you a witch, Margaret? The old woman laughed and shook her head. I am not a witch. She's just someone with a very special secret.

The children looked at her with wide eyes and asked her to tell them. Bill's woman sighed and thought for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and spoke. Everything I touch turns to Candy. She said. The children gasped everything, yes. Everything, she replied. She slipped one of the black lace gloves off her hand and reached a long finger out toward the teacup. The moment her hand brushed the ceramic, the cup shot into the air and landed back on the table in the form of a chewy caramel.

Margaret broke the caramel with their thumb, it stuck to her fingernail. The woman said she used to live in the village like everyone else, but many years ago she accidentally turned a neighbor's chicken coop into a chocolate fountain. That very day, she bought a pair of gloves at the market, packed up her belongings and moved deep into the woods. She had never been back to the village since. I just don't want any more accidents. She said the children nodded.

They could understand how that would be tricky. Margaret asked the woman if she missed seeing people in town and if she ever got lonely out here in the woods. Sometimes, the woman said. Margaret tapped your hand on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow. They walked over to the far corner of the room and spoke in, Pashtuns had to come up with a plan. Heads together, they whispered to one another for several minutes. Then they turned and walked back to the table.

They explained to the woman that the usual candy seller left town. Now the market had long one with sweet. But with her, if she could return to town on weekends and so all the candy she could make. It would put her skills to good use and Margaret and Johan would be her first customers. From their pockets, they pulled out the little silver coins their father had given them the week before. They placed them on the table. In exchange, the woman worked her magic.

With a touch of her finger, she turned a candlestick into a piece of licorice for Johan and the other teacup into a sugar drop for Margaret. The children smiled with joy. She slipped the glove back on her hand and ushered them to the door. And now it's time to get you home. She said. She led them back through the clearing to the stand of trees. They made their way through clusters of pine and around mossy rocks. They won't come to the branch where the raven had perched and through woods that looked the same as those they'd already passed.

And finally, they came to the path. Margaret and Johan thank the woman and promised to visit another day. With a final glance in her direction, they ran all the way home where their father greeted them warmly and tucked them safely into bed. From that day on, if you were to stand on the road between the cabin and the village on market days, you might just see a wood carver and a witch walking together, pushing carts full of toys and candy.

And smiling like old friends. And this is where our story ends for tonight. I hope you've enjoyed it. Good night and sweet dreams.