Oliver Otter and the Story That Had to Wait: Listening to the end and giving every voice its turn

Oliver Otter and the Story That Had to Wait

Listening to the end and giving every voice its turn

The Moral of Our Story:
When someone shares a story, let them finish what they say, and give their words attention till the ending comes your way. For thinking of your own next tale can make you miss the thread. The lesson is tucked between the words, the meaning of what’s said, so save your thoughts and wait your turn with patience, care, and grace. Remembering another’s voice deserves its time and place. Then share the story in your heart when listening time is through, and give the same respect to them that you would want for yourself.

Oliver Otter loved stories.

He loved stories about daring adventures, mysterious footprints, and fish so enormous that no one could possibly believe they were real.

Most of all, Oliver loved telling stories himself.

One afternoon, he and Grandpa Otter sat outside their riverside home. The water sparkled beyond the reeds, and a dragonfly hovered above a lily pad.

“I have a story for you,” Grandpa said.

Oliver nestled beside him.

“Is it exciting?”

“It has a rushing river, a floating basket, and someone who makes an important choice.”

Oliver’s whiskers twitched.

“Tell me!”

Grandpa began.

“Once, after several days of rain, a young otter named Oscar found a basket caught among some branches. Inside was a little wooden boat.”

Oliver pictured the boat.

It needed a sail.

A red sail.

And perhaps a tiny captain wearing a magnificent hat.

“Grandpa! I know a story about a boat!”

Grandpa paused.

“I would like to hear it when I finish this one.”

But Oliver was already sailing away in his imagination.

“My boat has seven sails, and there is a turtle on board, and the turtle finds a treasure chest full of golden pancakes!”

“Oliver,” Grandpa said gently, “I wasn’t finished.”

“And the pancakes can talk!”

Grandpa closed his mouth.

Oliver kept talking.

The turtle became a king. The boat became a castle. The golden pancakes demanded strawberry syrup.

Finally, Oliver stopped to breathe.

Grandpa was looking at the river.

“Did you like my story?” Oliver asked.

“You have a wonderful imagination,” Grandpa replied. “But I felt disappointed when you continued speaking after I asked you to wait.”

Oliver shifted on the bench.

“I didn’t want to forget.”

“I understand. Your idea felt important.”

“It was very important. The pancakes were about to sing.”

Grandpa smiled a little.

“Still, my story mattered too.”

Oliver looked down at his paws.

“I thought you could tell the rest afterward.”

“I could,” Grandpa said. “But when you interrupt, I lose my place, and you miss what I am trying to share.”

“What happened to Oscar?”

“That is part of the story you haven’t heard.”

Oliver’s ears lifted.

“Tell me.”

Before Grandpa could begin, Mother Otter called them inside for lunch.

“We will have to save it,” Grandpa said.

At the table, Oliver could hardly sit still.

“I have a story about singing pancakes,” he told his sister, Olivia Otter.

Olivia looked delighted.

“Tell me!”

Oliver began with the seven sails and the magnificent captain’s hat.

Just as the turtle opened the treasure chest, Olivia bounced in her chair.

“I made up a story about a flying spoon!”

“Wait,” Oliver said. “I haven’t finished.”

“The spoon flies over the moon, and it carries a bowl of soup!”

“Olivia!”

“And the soup has stars in it!”

Oliver slumped against his chair.

His singing pancakes had never even reached their first song.

Mother Otter rested a paw on the table.

“Olivia, please let Oliver finish. Then you can tell us about your spoon.”

Olivia nodded.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

Oliver glanced toward Grandpa.

Grandpa did not say anything.

He did not need to.

After lunch, Oliver found him beside the window.

“I didn’t like being interrupted.”

“It can be frustrating,” Grandpa said.

“Olivia wasn’t listening to my story. She was thinking about hers.”

Grandpa waited.

Oliver rubbed his paws together.

“That is what I did to you.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. Especially because you asked me to stop, and I kept going.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

“How do I remember my idea without saying it right away?”

Grandpa took a small notebook from a shelf.

“You could draw a tiny reminder. Or remember one word that will bring your idea back.”

“Pancakes!”

“That would probably do it.”

Oliver laughed.

“And while I wait?”

“Listen to what the speaker is saying. Waiting for a turn is easier when you are curious about someone else’s story.”

Grandpa opened the notebook.

“Would you like to draw your reminder before we try again?”

Oliver drew a pancake wearing a crown.

Then they returned to the bench.

Grandpa began where he had stopped.

“Oscar carried the wooden boat home. It was the finest toy he had ever found.”

Oliver thought of his own boat.

His mouth opened.

Then he closed it.

He pictured the crowned pancake waiting safely in the notebook.

“The next morning,” Grandpa continued, “Oscar heard a little otter crying beside the river. She had lost a basket with a wooden boat inside. Her grandfather had carved it for her.”

Oliver leaned closer.

“Did Oscar give it back?”

Grandpa held up one finger with a smile.

Oliver nodded and waited.

“Oscar wanted to keep it,” Grandpa said. “But he remembered how he had felt when he lost something precious. So he brought the boat to its owner.”

“What did she do?”

“She hugged it. Then she invited Oscar to sail it with her.”

Grandpa rested his paws in his lap.

“That is the end.”

Oliver sat quietly for a moment.

“He got a friend because he did the honest thing.”

“Exactly.”

“I would have missed that part.”

“You would have missed the heart of it.”

Oliver smiled.

“May I tell my story now?”

“I would be delighted.”

This time, Grandpa listened all the way through.

Even through the pancake choir.

That evening, Olivia approached Oliver with a drawing.

“Would you like to hear about my flying spoon?”

Oliver put down his notebook.

“Yes.”

Halfway through, he thought of a flying fork.

He nearly spoke.

Instead, he watched Olivia’s face and listened.

The fork could wait.

His sister had a story to finish.

A Poem to Remember

Let the speaker finish through,
Save the thought that comes to you,
Listen for the how and why,
Let your question wait nearby,
When the ending comes in view,
There will be a turn for you,
Patient ears and words that care,
Make a welcome place to share.

Let’s Talk About the Story

1. How did Grandpa feel when Oliver kept interrupting, and what helped Oliver understand that feeling?
2. What could you do to remember your own idea while listening carefully to someone else?
3. Why is it important to hear the end of a story, especially when someone is sharing a lesson?

Bill Conley
America’s Favorite Children’s Storyteller and Author