Ito Ang Mensahe Ng Kwento Novels & Stories

“You scared the poor boy, dude.” That was the first response he got from Damien Lau after he finished telling the whole story. The doctor visited him today, and he served some mineral waters to him. He was just a bachelor who didn’t really care about food at home and only had mineral waters with him. Despite being a bad host, the painter still dared to pour his heart out by telling the story that bothered him since yesterday. Yeah, he had told his friend about his ‘experience’ with his student yesterday.

This is your storyteller, The Diwata, leaving you with much food for thought. Until next time…

Rin wrote the title across the board in thick, deliberate strokes, the chalk scratching loud enough to quiet the room before she spoke: HOW TO KNOW WHEN A STORY IS USING YOU The room was half full of pups and half of lanky adolescents, with three adults leaning in the back pretending they were “just checking on the class.” Sunlight slanted in through the high windows, catching chalk dust in the air and making the motes glow. “Today isn’t about whether a story is pretty,” Rin said, turning to face them. “Or whether it makes you feel good. It’s about who it serves.”

the one told by the storyteller. When they had gathered again, they left and Ojo was worried, she knew nothing about his worries, always happy and never had any reason for sadness, life went on and one day Ojo decided to ask a question, Itanforiti was catching fun with horse ride, there where many others with her and when she had returned to the palace, Ojo waited for her at the doorstep, and she already knew any time he was in that mood, it always meant one thing, and that thing was that he had something to tell her, he was always advising and telling her deep things, she sat down beside him and waited for what he was about to say, Ojo looked up " did you know the moral of that story told

wowwww wla akung maintindihan "May kwento ako kaya makinig ka" so childish and stupid "May limang daga, isa sa limang daga ay kakaiba. Imbis na maglaro siya kasama ang apat ay lagi siyang naghahanap ng kanyang pagkain lagi niyang iniisip ang bukas, isang araw nagtanong ang apat na daga sa kanya" bakit yan ang inuuna mo? Pwde ka namng maglaro kasama namin pero mas pinili mong mag imbak ng pagkain para sa bukas, masaya ka ba hindi ka namn nakakalaro? "

Biro lang syempre! “Po?” Inosenteng tanong niya sa akin. “Nothing baby. Come here.” I chuckled at him. Itinabi ko ang libro sa may side table at ikinalong siya. I caressed his face and spoke softly. “You're too young to understand that story, Bullet. Way too young to understand what message it wants to tell us.” Pagpapaliwanag ko sa kaniya. Nakatitig lang siya sa akin at mataimtim na nakikinig. Probably wondering what I'm saying.

she added without waiting for a reply. "Aunty hand bag , go and read your books. I wonder how you will pass your exams"Her mother bawled. They talked for what seems like forever before Hussain entered his mother's room. He greeted her happily. "Hussain, why didn't you tell your wife about the journey" his mother scolded him.

Tension flowed through my body. The only thing on my mind was this: Impress them. The man in the middle picked up my file. “I can see here that you have written several stories. “Yes, sir.” “And you want to work with us?” “Yes, sir.” He leaned back slightly. “Then tell us something, Miss Molley. Why do you think storytelling is important?” For a second, my mind went blank. But then the words slowly returned. “Stories help people understand themselves,” I said. “Sometimes people cannot say how they feel, but they can see themselves in a story.”

This may not be one of those Big Book stories we had read about men who were like our kinds doing impossibles and we were taught to believe in everything. Joseph and his coat of many colors and the Samson of the strongest and the rest of the stories. Not withstanding i was taught well in the powers of story telling, i had understood that one could actually change people, humans, you could take away their faith and beliefs and captivate their mental thoughts through story telling. That was the case of me and my people and for many years now i had believed in the sorcery of words. Words counts, words are magical essence of living with people in unity, teaching and bending people with the gift

This journey of writing has been a voyage of self-discovery, where I have learned as much about myself as I have about the craft of storytelling. I believe that stories are the threads that weave our shared human experience. They have the power to transcend cultural, geographical, and temporal boundaries, reminding us of our common humanity. Whether through the written word, oral tradition, or digital mediums, stories connect us, inspire us, and challenge us to grow. It is my hope that my words will find a resonance with readers, that they will evoke emotions, provoke thoughts, and spark conversations.