The Magic Porridge Pot

[@Autumn_Forest_]

Reading this book was my favorite memory of second grade. I was always hungry and loved imagining eating all that warm porridge.

[@eurishamaharaj4626]

Re-living my good childhood listening to StoryTeller

[@lorisheroan5882]

I checked this picture book out of the library multiple times when I was a child.

[@Lily-qz3ms]

My mom used to read this for me when I was a kid. I just remembered it all of a sudden so I went on KZbin and found this video. So happy!

[@lilly6250]

Very nice fairy tale! thank you!

[@KeithThebeast]

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME! THIS IS LEGENDARY!!!X

[@TheKevinGHutton]

That made me feel 6 years old again! :o)

[@alexst5440]

best story that i've see

[@jasondower8693]

it takes you back to your childhood memory's

[@oorrmmmmrroo1946]

One summer, long ago, the harvest failed and there was too little food to eat. In one house, in one particular village, there was no food at all. Maisie lived there with her mother. Each day Maisie went into the wood to pick berries for supper. But winter was coming, and one day there were no berries to be found. Maisie sat down on a log, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Whatever will become of mother and me?" "I think you're just the person I'm looking for," said a gentle, crackly voice. There stood a crooked witch, wrapped in a bulging cloak, with only her purple face peeping out. 'Tm travelling far away, and I can't carry much luggage," said the witch. "Would you look after something for me?" "Of course I will," said Maisie. The witch threw open her cloak to reveal a little iron pot with three legs and a handle. "Take good care of it until I come back . . . Oh, and Maisie, if you should ever be hungry, just say to the pot 'Boil, pot, boil!' And if it should ever be full, just say the words 'Stop, pot, stop! ' Can you remember?" Maisie was just wondering how the witch knew her name when a gust of wind stirred up all the fallen leaves in a flurry. When they settled, the witch had disappeared. Maisie walked home and set the pot on the kitchen table. "Look, Mother. We must take great care of this. I think it might be magic!" "But where are the berries for supper?" asked her mother. ''I'm hungry." "So am I," thought Maisie, so she said aloud, "Boil, pot, boil!" With a deliciously oozing, bubbling, simmering sound, the little pot filled to the brim with golden porridge laced with treacle and speckled with brown sugar! "Stop, pot, stop!" said Maisie, and they both ate porridge until they were fit to burst. "Shall we make some for the people next door?" asked Maisie. "No!" Her mother slipped the little iron pot under the table. "No, this is our secret. We won't tell anyone." The next day, after the pot had given them both a delicious breakfast, Maisie went out to play with her friends at the other end of the village. Lunchtime came, and Maisie's mother began to feel hungry. She took out the pot and looked at it greedily. "Boil, pot, boil!" she said, and at once the iron pot filled to the brim with porridge. "That's enough, thank you very much." But the pot went on boiling. It went on boiling until it had spilled all over the table. "Oh dear! Halt, pot, halt!" But the little pot kept making porridge until the kitchen floor was covered. Maisie's mother climbed on to a chair. "Don't, pot, don't!" she begged, but the flow of porridge washed her chair out of the door. Soon the whole house was full of porridge. It came bubbling out of the chimney and slopping through the windows. "Please, pot, please!" cried Maisie's mother clutching the branch of a tree to keep from being swept away by the rising tide of porridge. "Oh, pot, oooh!" All through the village, people rushed out of their houses. "What's happening?" "A porridge flood!" "Quick, run for the hills!" The noise and commotion reached the other end of the village, and Maisie ran outside. Howling villagers were clinging to the church spire and perching in the treetops. In the distance she could hear her mother's voice shouting: "Help, pot, help! No, pot, nooooh!" Maisie guessed at once what had happened. She waded and swam as far as she could towards her house. Then, cupping her hands round her mouth she called, "Stop, pot, stop!" The little pot heard her. The bubbling stopped. And the village fell silent under a sea of cooling porridge. But the magic porridge tasted delicious, even cold. The villagers ate their way from the top to the bottom of it. It took them all winter! In spring, the witch returned for her little iron pot. "Did you take good care of it?" she asked Maisie, her crinkled eyes twinkling. "No, I didn't," said Maisie, and her eyes twinkled too. "But it certainly took good care of us!"

[@ljmcdonald2703]

I love porridge so much

[@clipzstar247]

👋 memories

[@mandyhuman9231]

This is exactly the version my Grandad used to read to my sister and I as children, even the pictures are the same!! It was part of an anthology of other kids stories but I cant remember the name of it - please can you tell me which book/publisher etc this is from as we no longer have the book from our childhood and I would LOVE to find it for my sister as our Grandad has passed away now, but we always talk about this story and our memories of Gramps. Thank you.

[@oorrmmmmrroo1946]

vk.com/doc3610351_442482817?hash=3625f11409261a1ed2&dl=435b4ed60bde67b816

[@chenzh8568]

I was also looking for it based on this version. A Treasury of Goodnight Stories (ISBN: 0863079539) by Marshall Cavendish. www.amazon.com/Treasury-Goodnight-Stories-Marshall-Cavendish/dp/0863079539

[@mandyhuman9231]

@@chenzh8568 oh my goodness! Thank you!

[@thisbinder]

That's a lot of fucking porridge to eat. Colin Farrell brought me here...

[@Flythistonight]

Me too

[@shajiyaamina7363]

Quatro Quatro clxxlldldld

[@jeannepoole8257]

don't you make your mother proud...

[@katielouch5405]

Lol

[@giruyo]

Gulp nose bothering runny nose