This is my International Showcase entry and its based on my homeland which is Wales! Thanks for taking a look and I hope you enjoy!

"Nan!" I can remember yelling as soon as the door opened.
She would always smile at me with such warmth that I couldn't help but love her visits.
We snuggled up on the sofa and I said, "I'm so glad you're babysitting me, nan."
She let out a chuckle and said, "Me too but I thought you told me it was child minding now that you're eight."
"Well, it is but seeing as you're old I didn't think you'd remember!"
"You cheeky monkey!" She'd teased and tickled me until I giggled uncontrollably.

"Tell me a story, Nan!"
"What kind of story, lovely?"
"Anything!"
She sat back and pretended to be thinking which story to tell me but she was such a wise woman that I knew she a;ready had one.
"What about a true welsh story?" She asked.
"Ok!" I screamed. I rarely heard stories of my country except on St. David's day so I loved that Nan was so patriotic.

"Well, this is the story of Gelert. The bravest dog that ever lived.
Many hundreds of years ago there was a welsh prince named Llewellyn who had a very loving dog called Gelert. Now, Prince Llewellyn was a very fond hunter and one day he left to go on a hunt and trusted the life of his little son with Gelert.

The little boy was in very safe hands, well, paws as Gelert was a loving and kind dog. However, a while after Llewellyn had left fear struck the castle in the form of a wolf.

It was a great, black, shaggy wolf with teeth as sharp as razors and a heart full of a love for blood. Gelert stood in front of the little child and growled at the wolf. The wolf quickly pounced on Gelert and a grizzly fight began.
The wolf tried everything he could to kill Gelert and get to the child. Eventually Gelert killed the wolf.

Minutes later Prince Llewellyn returned to find Gelert's teeth covered in blood and his son nowhere to be seen. Terror overcame him and he thought the worst...

He thought that Gelert had killed his only son. So he drew his sword and plunged it into Gelert's heart as revenge.
However, just moments later he heard a little cry.

He walked over to the other side of the room to find the wolf lyin gon the floor, dead, and his son sitting there untouched. He immediatly saw the error of his actions and picked up Gelert's body and buried it in a local field. To this day many people go to visit it. It's named "Beddgelert"- the grave of Gelert."

I could vaguely remember being told this story in school but it seemed so much more exciting when Nan told it. I decided at that moment that when I grew up my first dog would be named Gelert.
"Poor Gelert, he was so brave!" I squeeled.
"Yes, he was," Nan said with a smile.
"Tell me another, Nan!"
"Hmmm...what about our patron saint of lovers?"
"What?!"
"The story of Saint Dwynwen.....

Dwynwen lived in the fifth century so this story goes back even furhter than I can count. Dwynwen was the prettiest girl out of twenty four daughters! It was no surprise that she fell in love with a dashing prince called Maelon.

However, her father had arranged for Dwynwen to marry another man and so she could not marry Maelon.

So that night Dwynwen asked God for help so that she could forget Maelon. She was visited by an angel who gave her a potion that would make her forget Maelon and turn him into a block of ice.

God then gave her three wishes. She first asked that Maelon be thawed. Then she asked God that he would meet all the dreams and hopes of all true lovers. Finally, she asked that she would never marry.
All three of these wishes were given to Dwynwen.

She was so grateful that she devoted her entire life to serving God.
Now every January twenty fifth welsh people all over celebrate our patron saint of love. A woman who was a true saint.

"Nan, that's so sad but still quite happy. Does that make sense?"
Nan chuckled to herself once more before giving me a hug and saying, "I know exactly what you mean. Now, I think it's time for bed, don't you?"
"No! One more! Please?"
"Ok, one more. A short one. This one is a VERY brief story about Saint David.

Now, as you know, Saint David is Wales' patron saint. He was a monk who lived a simple life and devoted every inch of it to serving others, especially his God.

One of his most famous sermons meant that some people at the back couldnt' hear or see him. So what is said to have happened? The ground rose to form a small hill so that everyone could see him!

He was said to have lived until he was a hundred years old and on the day he died, March first, hoards of angels came to the monastry to retrieve his soul.
He was a loving man whose life is impossible to tell minutes before bedtime! But we remember him every March first and his story shall always live on."

I beamed at my Nan. I knew this story well but I knew how much Nan loved to tell it, even if she was pretending she wanted me to go to bed.
"Right, you really have to go to bed, now," she said.
"Nan, I can't go to bed!"
"Why ever not?"
"Because...what if I forget? What if I forget the stories?"
She simple stood up and pulle dme into a hug before giving a kiss on the head.
"Don't worry, my love. You won't forget. I promise."

THE END! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

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