Smories–short, short stories 短いお話の朗読ビデオ
Smories.coｍ is a website of children’s stories read by children.
The top page on the Internet is full of photos of children. Hold the cursor over the photo for the name of the story and its age level.
You can also access the same site on your iPod or iPhone.
The children are not professional readers, but they are cute, and these are good listening exercises.
Here is a story called “Anjali Kicks the Ball” by Suzanne Kamata
Suzanne has kindly provided the script of the story for this blog so you can have both reading and listening!
Smoriesは子供用のお話を子供が朗読するユニークなサイトです(iPod, iPhoneでもアクセス可)。トップページにずらりと並んだ写真にカーソルを合わせると、朗読者の名前とお話の対象年齢が表示されます。自分が読んでいるお話の内容に合わせて表情が変わる子供の英語を聞くのは楽しく、自然な英語を聞き取る良い練習になります。試しに”Anjali Kicks the Ball”のリンクをクリックして可愛い朗読を聴いてください。作者Suzanne Kamataさんのご厚意により物語のテキストも掲載します。リスニングとリーディングの両方をお楽しみください。
Anjali Kicks the Ball by Suzanne Kamata
All of the people that Anjali loved best had come to watch her first soccer game. Grandma and Grandpa were there, sprawled on a blanket. Nani and Nana were there, sitting in folding chairs on the sidelines. Her big brother Graham was there, waving a pompon. “Go Anjali!” he shouted. Mommy and Daddy were there, too, holding a camera and a camcorder.
Anjali had practiced for weeks in her backyard. She could kick the ball through the grass or over the swing set. Once, she had tried practicing in Nani and Nana’s house. She had knocked a bowl of mangoes off the table and Nani had scolded her.
Now, Anjali ran onto the field in her yellow jersey with a black number 6 on the back. She was wearing green shorts and clean white cleats. Mommy had tied her hair into pigtails.
Coach blew her whistle and the game began. Anjali ran after the ball, but the other kids on her team were bigger and faster. She could hardly keep up. Sometimes she stopped to rest and waved back at her family. “Go, Anjali!” they yelled. She ran after the ball again.
She looked down. Her brand new white cleats were covered with red clay. Once, she fell and her jersey was streaked green by the grass. The game went on and on, but no one kicked the ball into the net. No matter how fast and how hard Anjali ran, the black and white ball always seemed so far away.
Finally, a boy wearing a red jersey picked up the ball with his hands, ran, and threw it into the net.
Coach blew her whistle. “Penalty!” she shouted. “No touching the ball with your hands!”
Coach made the boy leave the game.
Anjali saw him sit down with his family. His mother ruffled his hair and gave him some juice and crackers. Suddenly, Anjali was very thirsty. She remembered that Grandma had brought along a thermos of lemonade and Nani had some bhel poori in her purse. Anjali didn’t feel like running any more. She looked over at her family.
Graham was waving his pompon. Mommy was taking her picture. Daddy called out, “Look alive, Anjali!”
She turned back to the game. Number ten was dribbling the ball. He saw Anjali standing there alone, at the edge of the field, and he kicked the ball to her.
Anjali smiled. She ran to meet the ball and then she gave it a big kick. It went sailing in the air, over the grass, and into the net.
Everyone jumped up. Nani, Nana, Grandma, Grandpa, her brother, Mommy, and Daddy, and all the kids wearing yellow jerseys were cheering and clapping.
It was Anjali’s first game, first kick, and first victory. It wouldn’t be the last.