K is for Knots (on a Counting Rope)

I was a Reading Rainbow kid. I knew the theme song by heart, and almost all the episodes, especiallyKnots on a Counting Rope, written by Bill Martin Jr and John Archambault. It also had LeVar Burton camping by himself, which I don't remember as well as the story.

when they were put in re-runs on WNED 17 (my local affiliate in Chautauqua County). The episode featured is

It is the story of a native american boy and how he learns to cope with his blindness. He was born on a special night; a special omen appears to him and his grandfather in the form of two blue horses. That becomes his name, Boy Strength of Blue Horses. The boy's grandfather tell him this story and each time a knot is added to a counting rope. When the counting rope is full, then Boy Strength of Blue Horses will know the story well enough to tell it himself.

A beautiful story and with the most exquisite illustrations.

Did you know that Bill Martin Jr. didn't know how to read until he went to college? Taught himself to read by poetry books at Emporia State University. He also went on to get an Master's and a Doctorate in early education from Northern University. Not bad for a boy from Kansas, eh?

Bill Martin Jr is the brains behind the Brown Bear, Brown Bear style books with Eric Carl.

Today's poem is an hommage to Knots on a Counting Rope; and a little bit of a retelling too. Do you, Dear Readers remember Reading Rainbow? Do you have a favourite episode? Favourite story that was featured?

Tell It Again

'Tell me the story, Grandfather.'

'You say that so often my boy.'

'But you tell it the best. Please?'

'Alright, but only one last time.'

'You say that so often my boy,

tell me the story of my birth.

Alright, but one last time,'

"It was a dark night...wild storm..."

Tell me the story of my birth.

The wind was crying for you;

It was a dark night...wild storm

it was a strange night indeed.

The wind was crying for you

and when you arrived, it was suddenly silent,

it was a strange night indeed,

until the blue horses arrived.

And when you arrived, it was suddenly silent

and so they stood in front of you.

Until the blue horses arrived

we did not know of your fate.

And so they stood in front of you

nuzzling your fingers as you reached out;

we did not know your fate

except that you would have to cross dark mountains.

Nuzzling your fingers as you reached out...

But you tell it the best. Please?

Except that you would have to cross dark mountains...

Tell me the story, Grandfather.