

Tia's Teacup

Tia's Teacup
Tia's Teacup
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Tia has lived with her Grandmother ever since her parents disappeared on the Arctic ice. Despite her young age, she tries her best to help around the home. Every day, she takes a teacup, fills it with grain, and scatters the food for the hungry chickens.  But as Tia taps the last of the seeds from the cup, she hears a strange voice. When she peers inside the teacup, she sees a dazzling pair of blue eyes looking back at her. The inch-high owner of the eyes tells Tia that he is cold and hungry and persuades her to take him into the warmth of the house. Yet as soon as they are indoors, the little ice creature begins to demolish the entire contents. Tia and her Grandmother must waste no time in ridding themselves of their unwanted guest. But has he gone forever? An enchanting tale of a small Inuit family trying to survive in a harsh landscape whilst keeping their traditions alive. Suitable for a bedtime story, for over 5’s.

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Pages: 11
Reading Level: Intermediate (6 to 9)
Language: English
Categories: Action Adventure, Animals & Creatures, Bed Time
Features: Narrations
Keywords: eskimo, inuit, family, folklore, snow, ice, mystery adventure, tradition, creatures.
Date Added: May 9, 2019
Tia’s Teacup. Tia yawned and dragged a heavy wooden chair closer to the table. The smoke from a large black cooking pot snaked up through the air and coiled itself around the chimney. She gently rubbed her eyes and focused on the pretty pink and white checked cloth in front of her. Tia was still tired. She had been in such a deep slumber when her Grandmother called her for breakfast. The little girl loved her Nana with all her heart, but she loved her dreams even more. It was the only time she could still be with her Mother and Father. When she slept, she would see her Father take her Mother in his arms and dance under the stars. They would swirl around so fast that all Tia could see was the blur of her Mother’s colourful skirts as they sped past. Tia would laugh as her Mother shouted for him to slow down, until they collapsed in an exhausted heap on the floor. Tia would run over and jump on top of them and insist that her Father twirled her around in the same way. She missed them both so much. She had lived with her Grandmother ever since her parents had died. She still remembered the day they left to go out hunting on the ice. They never came back. Day after day Tia’s Grandmother searched for them but all she found was a harpoon and a pair of fur gloves that belonged to her son. In the evenings Tia and her Grandmother would sit by the fire. Her Grandmother would tell Tia stories about days long gone and sometimes, they would open a dusty old album and look at photos. Some of the pictures were so old they had become yellow and curled like autumn leaves. There were photos of Tia’s Father when he was no more than Tia’s age. He was sat on a sled in a little seal-skin coat. Tia’s Grandfather stood next to him, holding up a large silver fish that the two of them had caught that day. Tia would sit by the fire as her Nana brushed her jet-black hair until it shone like the wings of a raven.