magical stories
Something Strange in the Mill 
A trick of the wind or a message from the past?
The sun was slowly setting over the orchard, tinting the sky with shades of gold and orange. The wind began to blow harder, making the branches of the old mulberry tree rustle.
Uncle Augustine settled under the shade, his hat firmly on and the sprig of wheat in his mouth. Around him, the children listened attentively to one of his stories. But then, a mysterious sound interrupted their conversation.
It was a melody, soft, but clearly recognizable, floating in the air as if the wind were singing.
«Did you hear that?» asked Sofia, her eyes wide open.
«Yes! Where’s it coming from?» whispered Lucas.
Everyone fell silent, trying to locate the source of the melody. It was coming from the windmill.
Uncle Augustine stood up slowly, frowning. His expression suddenly changed, as if his mind had traveled back in time.
«It can’t be. » he murmured in a trembling voice.
The children looked at each other, excited and confused. Why was their uncle reacting like that?
Just then, Grandma came out of the house with a tray of freshly baked bread. But when she heard the melody, she placed the tray on the table without saying a word. Her eyes filled with surprise and nostalgia.
«That song…» she whispered, moved. «Our mother used to sing that song when we were children.»
The children felt a thrill of emotion.
«How is that possible?» Tomás asked.
«Maybe the windmill learned to sing?» Lucas joked.
The melody continued, carried by the wind, lost among the trees in the orchard.
«There must be an explanation. » Grandma said in a serious voice. «But first, we need to remember the full lyrics.»
She sat down in the old rocking chair and closed her eyes. Then, in a sweet and melancholy voice, she began to sing:
«Blow the wind, take me away,
take me to the river, take me to the sun.
When I return, tell me a dream,
tell me who I was, tell me who I am…»
The children listened attentively. It was the exact same melody that was playing from the mill!
«This is incredible. » murmured Lucas. «It’s as if the mill remembers her!»
«That means the mill might be hiding something.» said Sofia with a big smile. «We have to find out what it is!»
The children ran around the mill, touching the aged wood, trying to find any clues.
«Maybe there’s someone hiding here,» said Tomas, putting his ear to the structure.
«Or maybe… the mill is haunted!» joked Lucas, although with a slight shiver.
Uncle Augustine stroked his beard curiously.
«I don’t believe in ghosts, but I do believe in old stories that still have something to tell.»
Grandmother ran her hand along the walls of the mill, as if searching for something in particular.
«When we were children, our father spent hours fixing this mill. He always said the wind had its own voice and, with the right tool, it could even sing.»
Just then, a stronger gust of wind blew, and the melody became clearer and sharper.
The children and Uncle Augustine decided to investigate further. If the windmill could sing, there must be something hidden inside it.
With flashlights in hand, they climbed the creaking staircase to the inside of the tower. Everything was dark, covered in dust and cobwebs.
«It smells old in here,» Tomás commented, wrinkling his nose.
«It’s a windmill with many years… and many stories,» Uncle Augustine replied.
Lucas ran his hand along the wood and noticed something strange.
«There’s something here!» he exclaimed, pointing to a small metal box embedded in one of the beams.
«What could it be?» Sofia asked excitedly.
«Well, we won’t know if we don’t open it,» Tomás said, rubbing his hands together.
Uncle Augustine took an old screwdriver out of his pocket and removed the lid of the box. Inside, they found a mechanism made of tubes and very thin wooden paddles.
«It’s a giant whistle!» Tomás marveled. «More than a whistle,» Grandma explained with a smile. «It’s a wind organ.»
«Organ?, Like a piano?» Lucas asked.
«Something like that, but instead of keys, it uses the wind to make the tubes sound,» Grandma said.
Sofía leaned over to get a better look at the mechanism.
«So… when the wind blows hard, this device plays the song. That’s why it sounds just like your mom’s melody!»
Grandma nodded with a nostalgic smile.
«Our father must have built it many years ago… but I don’t remember ever seeing it.»
«Maybe he did it in secret, so the song would never be forgotten,» Uncle Agustín said, moved.
The children tried to blow into the tubes, but instead of the melody, an off-key sound came out.
«We don’t know how to play it!» Sofía laughed.
«It sounds like a cow learned to sing!» Tomás joked. Uncle Augustine laughed and shook his head.
«It’s because the wind is the true musician here. Only he knows how to make it sound right.»
Suddenly, a strong gust of wind entered through the cracks in the windmill, causing the mechanism to vibrate. And the melody rang out clearly again, filling the air with its sweet harmony.
Lucas looked at the others with a big smile.
«We did it! The windmill is still working!»
Uncle Augustine took off his hat in a sign of respect, and Grandma closed her eyes, letting the memories take over.
«This song accompanied us in our childhood… and now it’s still here, as if the windmill knew we still need it.»
Back in the orchard, the children and grandparents sat under the mulberry tree.
«So, our grandfather left this here, so that the wind would always remind us of his song,» Lucas said, moved.
Grandma nodded with a tear in her eyes.
«It’s as if it’s sending us a message from the past, reminding us who we are and where we come from.»
Sofía looked at the windmill with a new perspective.
«Maybe one day, when we’re no longer here, someone else will hear this song and wonder who sang it.»
«And so, history will live on,» Tomás said with a smile.
Uncle Agustín adjusted his hat and looked at the horizon.
«Stories, like songs, are never lost if someone remembers them.»
The sun was beginning to set behind the hills when the wind blew again. And once again, the melody rang out, enveloping everyone in a moment of pure magic and nostalgia.
If you enjoyed the story, don’t hesitate to subscribe to our site if you haven’t already. And before you leave, please leave us a comment. It encourages us and compels us to create more and better stories for you and your children. Thank you for visiting. Have a nice day.
The Mill and the Flower of Wishes 
| Children’s Story about Generosity and Kindness
It was a moonlit night in Grandma��s orchard. The Chicago Air Motor windmill, its metal blades shining in the silver light, was turning gently, as it always did when the north wind blew. But that night something different happened.
The children, gathered under the mulberry tree with Uncle Augustine, noticed a peculiar glow in the windmill. “Look!” exclaimed Sofia, the youngest of the group, pointing at the blades that were beginning to turn faster than usual.
The old farmer, with his straight-brimmed hat and a wheat straw between his lips, slowly stood up. “Something special is happening, children. That windmill only turns like that when it wants to tell us something important,” he said as the children followed him curiously.
Suddenly, a gentle breeze laden with a sweet aroma filled the air. Small luminous seeds began to fall from the blades of the windmill, shining like tiny stars. The seeds floated gently before settling on the ground.
“What are these seeds, Uncle?” “These are the seeds of the Wish Flower, a magical plant that only blooms on nights like this,” asked Mateo, the eldest of the group, carefully picking up one of the lights.
Uncle Augustine smiled, his eyes reflecting the wisdom of the years. “These are the seeds of the Wish Flower, a magical plant that only blooms on nights like this. But be careful, children, it is not just any flower. It only sprouts if it is planted with generosity and if the wish you make is not selfish.”
Intrigued, the children began to carefully pick up the seeds. “Can we plant them now?” asked Sofia, excitedly.
“Of course,” replied Uncle Augustine, leading them to a small corner of the garden where the soil was softer. With careful hands, each child planted a seed and closed their eyes to make their wish.
Mateo wished that his father would come home early from work so they could play together. Sofia asked that her friend, who had been sick for weeks, could go back to school. The other children also made wishes full of kindness and love.
At dawn, the garden was filled with exclamations. The seeds had germinated, and in their place grew beautiful, brightly colored flowers, each radiating a soft light.
Uncle Augustine gathered them under the mulberry tree. “Do you see what happens when you plant with generosity? The Wish Flower not only fulfills what you ask for, it also lights up the hearts of those who grow it. Now go and wait. You will see that, in time, your wishes will come true.”
And so it was. As the days went by, Mateo was surprised to see that his father wanted to play with him when he came home from work, while Sofia saw her friend come into the living room with a smile. The children understood that the windmill and its flowers not only fulfilled wishes, but also taught a great lesson: the most powerful wishes are those that are born of love and generosity.
Since then, every night of the full moon, the children wait under the mulberry tree to see if the windmill magically turns once more, always ready to plant new wishes and fill the garden with light and hope.
Thank you for joining us in this magical story. If you liked it, don’t forget to subscribe to our channel, leave a «Like» and activate the bell so you don’t miss our next adventures. Until next time!
The Cloud That Was Lost 
| A Children’s Story with a Lesson on Freedom and Home 
Under the mulberry tree, Uncle Augustine lit his story pipe, as the children called it, although this time it had only a wheat straw instead of smoke. “Have you ever heard of the cloud that got lost?” he began in a deep voice, capturing the attention of the little ones.
One day, a mischievous cloud, tired of floating in the endless sky, looked down and saw Grandma’s orchard full of colors and life. “What a beautiful place!” he thought, and decided to go down to explore. Little by little, he descended until he was trapped in the blades of the windmill. The windmill, surprised, began to spin hard, but he was unable to free her.
When the children in the orchard noticed what was happening, they ran to the windmill. “Cloud, cloud! What are you doing here?” asked Lucia, the bravest. The cloud, with a soft and somewhat embarrassed voice, answered: “I was tired of traveling and wanted to rest. But now I don’t know how to get back to the sky.”
Worried about the cloud, the children sought out Uncle Augustine, who knew the stories of the winds. “We must call upon the North Wind,” he said, “he is the only one strong and wise enough to help.”
With a little ingenuity, the children began to sing a special tune that Uncle Augustine taught them. Its notes rose like a magical whisper until the wind responded. It appeared in a gentle but majestic whirlwind, stirring the leaves of the orchard.
“Little cloud, your home is in the sky,” said the North Wind in a deep voice. “Why did you leave your place?”
“I wanted something different,” the cloud admitted, “but I didn’t know I would miss my place among the other clouds so much.”
With a firm but gentle blow, the North Wind unhooked the cloud from the windmill and lifted it back into the sky. Before leaving, the cloud thanked the children and the wind. “I will never forget this orchard or the lesson I learned. The sky is my home, but I will always carry this place in my heart.”
That night, under the starlight, the children looked up at the sky and assured that the cloud, now back among the others, winked at them.
Uncle Augustine, with a smile and his wheat sprig in his mouth, concluded: “Remember, little ones, that we all have a special place in this world. Learning to value it is part of our adventure.”
If you liked this story and want to hear more stories from Uncle Augustine, don’t forget to subscribe to our channel! Like and share it so that more children can enjoy these magical adventures.
Every time you look at a cloud in the sky, think about freedom and how important it is to value our own home. Until the next adventure!