<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504</id><updated>2011-08-02T19:33:07.654-07:00</updated><category term='abrigarse'/><category term='juguetes'/><category term='fer cas'/><category term='amor'/><category term='Reyes Magos'/><title type='text'>Historias de Zoe</title><subtitle type='html'>Zoe Ruiz Baviera y sus cosas a los ocho años. Zoe nacio en 1999.A ella le gustan las hadas,y es muy amiguita de la fantasía.
Desde pequeña tenía un don. 
Quando era pequeña no era nada cariñosa. Era muy fría y no pensaba en los demás.Fue creciendo, y creciendo, y se dio más cuenta de lo importante que era preocuparse y querer a todo el mundo.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-1044384809478089064</id><published>2010-04-16T13:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T15:02:02.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Un misterio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S8jeILw3FeI/AAAAAAAAADs/HWXYFgNOe8c/s1600/foto%2Bvestido%2Bni%C3%B1as.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S8jeILw3FeI/AAAAAAAAADs/HWXYFgNOe8c/s320/foto%2Bvestido%2Bni%C3%B1as.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460858780364772834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Había una vez una niña llamada Carmen.Era muy intel.ligente y le gustaba muchíssimo aprender,pero por desgracia era y solo sabia lavar ropa ylimpiar casas.&lt;br /&gt;Una tarde se armó de valor y fue a una biblioteca que había en frente de su casa y cogió un librito de vocales para aprender. A partir de aquel diavolvió muchos veces a la biblioteca a coger libros y así fue como se enseño a sumar,a restar,a sabr que era un animel que tenia...&lt;br /&gt;A medida que Carmen ganaba dinero y Carmen iba a la escuela y eso le gustaba.&lt;br /&gt;Cuando se izo mayor fue a la universidad y estudió la carrera de magisterió.&lt;br /&gt;Un dia mientras estaba leyendo entró en un cuento donde la gente luchaba.ella  llevaba una ermaduraguerrera.&lt;br /&gt;-¿que ago aquí?-se pregunto así misma.&lt;br /&gt;-¡vamos,utiliza tu espada!-dijo una señora.&lt;br /&gt;-¿que acemos aquí señora?¿Donde estamos?¿Que ece asi vestida?-le preguntó.&lt;br /&gt;-Estamos en Grecia,estamos aqui para luchar.&lt;br /&gt;-Y como puedo volver donde estaba?dijo.&lt;br /&gt;en un momentin estuvo otra bez la biblioteca leyendo.&lt;br /&gt;Desde ese momento supo que con la imaginaon,leyendo se podia meter-se i salir-se de los cuentos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-1044384809478089064?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1044384809478089064/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=1044384809478089064' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/1044384809478089064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/1044384809478089064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2010/04/un-misterio_16.html' title='Un misterio'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S8jeILw3FeI/AAAAAAAAADs/HWXYFgNOe8c/s72-c/foto%2Bvestido%2Bni%C3%B1as.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-1472516978384750244</id><published>2010-04-16T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T13:54:02.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Un misterio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-1472516978384750244?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1472516978384750244/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=1472516978384750244' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/1472516978384750244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/1472516978384750244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2010/04/un-misterio.html' title='Un misterio'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-6318444682161415312</id><published>2010-04-16T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T13:40:23.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Magiá</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S8jLECwGlSI/AAAAAAAAADk/UH9SNlkdAeI/s1600/suee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S8jLECwGlSI/AAAAAAAAADk/UH9SNlkdAeI/s320/suee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460837818505270562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;olas de alegria,&lt;br /&gt;aire de armonia.&lt;br /&gt;nombre de magicá,&lt;br /&gt;fuerda de lunatica.&lt;br /&gt;viento que canta&lt;br /&gt;bosque de hada.&lt;br /&gt;Una palabra&lt;br /&gt;y en ella,dulzura bella&lt;br /&gt;como la bella&lt;br /&gt;y ahora que me&lt;br /&gt;reunido a qui me voy&lt;br /&gt;a despedir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¡ADIOS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-6318444682161415312?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6318444682161415312/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=6318444682161415312' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/6318444682161415312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/6318444682161415312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2010/04/magia.html' title='Magiá'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S8jLECwGlSI/AAAAAAAAADk/UH9SNlkdAeI/s72-c/suee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-3459810157380361531</id><published>2010-02-19T06:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T07:29:12.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>les estreles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S36uPLoNGMI/AAAAAAAAADc/k09NHDgQSow/s1600-h/estrellas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439976975752829122" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S36uPLoNGMI/AAAAAAAAADc/k09NHDgQSow/s320/estrellas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hi havia una vegada una estrela de la que totes es reien d'ella.Aquella estrela de la que tots es reien era molt bona no feia llum i era molt petita,per això tots es reien d'ella.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Però un dia totes les estrelles s'apagaren i l'estrela petita es va iluminar.una estrela precupa va dir:-per favor,podries tornarmos com estavem?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-val ho intentaré,però teniu que prometrem que no es riureu,ni vos burleu-va dir la petita.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-vale.-va dir l'altra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I així va ser com tots van estar contents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;CONTE CONTAT I BEN ACABAT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-3459810157380361531?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3459810157380361531/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=3459810157380361531' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/3459810157380361531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/3459810157380361531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2010/02/les-estreles.html' title='les estreles'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/S36uPLoNGMI/AAAAAAAAADc/k09NHDgQSow/s72-c/estrellas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-974028174506519621</id><published>2008-08-05T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:14.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>El mundo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJjVV8BPZoI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dfMMcZ7rVUQ/s1600-h/secuestros-en-la-costa-del-sol-ya-no-son-casos-aislados.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJjVV8BPZoI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dfMMcZ7rVUQ/s320/secuestros-en-la-costa-del-sol-ya-no-son-casos-aislados.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231165540056131202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amigos mios, el mundo ya no es como pensabais.&lt;br /&gt;Ahora es distinto.&lt;br /&gt;Tened cuidado, os contare una historia que puede pasar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habia una vez una familia, que conocio a  otra familia.&lt;br /&gt;Esa familia se conocía y todo eso, pero la familia U se hacia pasar por buenas personas yi no se conocen mucho, y la hija de la familia F,dijo: ¿ mama me puedo quedar en su casa?&lt;br /&gt;Si.&lt;br /&gt;Se quedó  en su casay  luego le envenenaron i la secuestraron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al día siguiente, los padres de la familia F se dieeron cuenta de que no estaba su hija.&lt;br /&gt;Llamaron a la policía, y la policía les dijo que intentarían encontrarla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buscaron, y buscaron, y buscaron, y los encontraron a ella y a la familia U.&lt;br /&gt;A la familia U. la detuvieron y pasó muchos años en la carcel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luego, la familia F no volvió a confiar ni, por ejemplo cuando estuvieran con una familia o con una persona conocerla más y no ir a su casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y así aprendieron la lección de no confiar en nadie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuento contado cuento acabado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-974028174506519621?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/974028174506519621/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=974028174506519621' title='7 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/974028174506519621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/974028174506519621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2008/08/el-mundo_05.html' title='El mundo'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJjVV8BPZoI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dfMMcZ7rVUQ/s72-c/secuestros-en-la-costa-del-sol-ya-no-son-casos-aislados.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-1357725510741919428</id><published>2008-07-13T02:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:14.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>El embrujo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SHnLzkHWrTI/AAAAAAAAABs/XN9wpwh-IBU/s1600-h/bruja.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SHnLzkHWrTI/AAAAAAAAABs/XN9wpwh-IBU/s320/bruja.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222429329641090354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una bruja buena,&lt;br /&gt;mala,&lt;br /&gt;tonta y temorosa.&lt;br /&gt;Quiso hacer un embrujo,&lt;br /&gt;bueno y temoroso.&lt;br /&gt;Con:&lt;br /&gt;ranas,&lt;br /&gt;serpientes&lt;br /&gt;y temorientes.&lt;br /&gt;Y siento acabarlo asi,&lt;br /&gt;pero es asi.&lt;br /&gt;La bruja hizo&lt;br /&gt;un hechizo.&lt;br /&gt;Que era asi:&lt;br /&gt;Pequeño&lt;br /&gt;Y&lt;br /&gt;no muy hermoso.&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaa&lt;br /&gt;Y&lt;br /&gt;era de colores:&lt;br /&gt;blanco,&lt;br /&gt;negro...&lt;br /&gt;era muy extraño.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-1357725510741919428?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1357725510741919428/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=1357725510741919428' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/1357725510741919428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/1357725510741919428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2008/07/el-embrujo_13.html' title='El embrujo'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SHnLzkHWrTI/AAAAAAAAABs/XN9wpwh-IBU/s72-c/bruja.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-4055943906366817392</id><published>2008-03-29T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:14.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Las hadas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R-7WzIh3YFI/AAAAAAAAABk/KjzOaRiBPIA/s1600-h/Verwondering.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R-7WzIh3YFI/AAAAAAAAABk/KjzOaRiBPIA/s320/Verwondering.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183316395101216850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las hadas pueden existir, y existen.&lt;br /&gt;Pues en este cuento van a estar.&lt;br /&gt;Habia una vez una niña que se llamaba Zoe.&lt;br /&gt;Ella creía en las hadas.&lt;br /&gt;Lo que pasa es que los demás no creían en ella, decían que estaba loca.&lt;br /&gt;Zoe estaba muy triste, porque nadie le queria, ni sus padres ni nadie.&lt;br /&gt;Ella tenía un mundo dentro de su corazón, de su vientre...&lt;br /&gt;Pero los otros de escuridad, temor y de frialdad.&lt;br /&gt;Un dia Zoe, como ella ve a las hadas le pidió: a una hada que fuera todo el mundo como ella.&lt;br /&gt;Y asi va ser : un mundo alegre,con amor, ect...&lt;br /&gt;IIIIIIII cuento contado cuento acabado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-4055943906366817392?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4055943906366817392/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=4055943906366817392' title='4 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/4055943906366817392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/4055943906366817392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2008/03/las-hadas.html' title='Las hadas'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R-7WzIh3YFI/AAAAAAAAABk/KjzOaRiBPIA/s72-c/Verwondering.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-3315977232184952344</id><published>2008-03-24T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:14.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lila, la reina presumida</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R-gG2oh3YEI/AAAAAAAAABc/wue95TiSy0o/s1600-h/princesa01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R-gG2oh3YEI/AAAAAAAAABc/wue95TiSy0o/s320/princesa01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181398906951917634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi habia una vegada una xiqueta que li deien Lila.&lt;br /&gt;La pobre xiqueta era una creguda i se creia:guapa,lista,simpática...&lt;br /&gt;Ella era una xiqueta intolerant.&lt;br /&gt;Ella creia la millor pero no era res,se burlaba dels demes,i apesar de tot era reina,tots tenien que fer-lil tot.&lt;br /&gt;Pero un mal dia per a la prisesa perque havia tallat en el seu home,van aprofitar per a fer-li algo a la prisesa:1.- Li varem ficar una aranya. Pero no va funcionar que ella xillara.&lt;br /&gt;2.- Envenenar-li.iiiiiiva funcionar!&lt;br /&gt;Se  va adormir.&lt;br /&gt;Despres li varen fer una trampa.&lt;br /&gt;Era que quan se desperta caigera en un pou ple d´aigua,per a que s´aufegara i es morira.&lt;br /&gt;I va funcionar.&lt;br /&gt;I al fi ja ningú va molestar,ni riures,ni res d´aixo.&lt;br /&gt;IIIIIIIII&lt;br /&gt;conte contat conte acabat!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-3315977232184952344?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3315977232184952344/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=3315977232184952344' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/3315977232184952344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/3315977232184952344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2008/03/lila-la-reina-presumida.html' title='Lila, la reina presumida'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R-gG2oh3YEI/AAAAAAAAABc/wue95TiSy0o/s72-c/princesa01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-2003700125078040665</id><published>2007-12-23T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:15.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Els xiquets</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R27XYoJvRwI/AAAAAAAAABM/A8TR8B8UvvI/s1600-h/96-casa-vila-4-camere-alba-1467756614.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R27XYoJvRwI/AAAAAAAAABM/A8TR8B8UvvI/s320/96-casa-vila-4-camere-alba-1467756614.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147288242226153218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi habia una vegada dos pares i tres fills molt rics, i un dia quan ells estaben fora es va cremar la casa, i la policia els va dur a casa d'un de la seua familia. Quan harrivaren es varen espantar de ell i als dies i dies, com ell sempre lis tratava mal feren un tracte. Al dia seguent el malo que se deia Conde Hola lis va tancar als tres en el cotxe, i el cotxe el va ficar en la via i el tren s´acostava. I menos mal que tenien una cosa per a pasarse a l´altra via.  Despres enseguida tocaren a la policia i vingue correguens la policia, despres detingueren al Conde hola i el mataren per lo que havia fet, i els xiquets varen anar a casa del seu tio. I com els cuidaba molt  be els xiquets es varen quedar amb ell per sempre, i mai mes es varen sentir mal. Conte contat conte acabat...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-2003700125078040665?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2003700125078040665/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=2003700125078040665' title='5 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/2003700125078040665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/2003700125078040665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2007/12/els-xiquets.html' title='Els xiquets'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R27XYoJvRwI/AAAAAAAAABM/A8TR8B8UvvI/s72-c/96-casa-vila-4-camere-alba-1467756614.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-779478678405437087</id><published>2007-12-21T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:15.373-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fer cas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abrigarse'/><title type='text'>La xiqueta costipada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R2xl7IJvRvI/AAAAAAAAABA/iqQOt0kegKw/s1600-h/N%C3%A3o_Me_Quero_Constipar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R2xl7IJvRvI/AAAAAAAAABA/iqQOt0kegKw/s320/N%C3%A3o_Me_Quero_Constipar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146600540652652274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi había una vegada una xiqueta que sempre estaba molt costipada, perque mai s'abrigaba ni feia cas. Pero un dia, com sempre, no s' abrigá i es costipá encara mes, i mes, i mes, que la tingueren que dur a l' hospital. I la mare va dir molt enfadada: Com un altra volta no te fiques la jaqueta i te costipes, vorás la que te arme. La xiqueta va dir en veu clara: Vale mamá. I després es ficá bona, i mai mes es va destapar. i conte contat, conte acabat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-779478678405437087?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/779478678405437087/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=779478678405437087' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/779478678405437087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/779478678405437087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2007/12/la-xiqueta-costipada.html' title='La xiqueta costipada'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R2xl7IJvRvI/AAAAAAAAABA/iqQOt0kegKw/s72-c/N%C3%A3o_Me_Quero_Constipar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-8863114324303105315</id><published>2007-12-16T04:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:15.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La por dels dos xiquets</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R2Uf7YJvRuI/AAAAAAAAAA4/P8TeonzQui0/s1600-h/miedo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R2Uf7YJvRuI/AAAAAAAAAA4/P8TeonzQui0/s320/miedo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144553254296700642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi havía una vegada dos xiquets que teníen molta, molta por. Pero un día els xiquets al dormir varen somiar que sa mare lis va dir que no tingeren mes por. Ells en eixe moment es van despertar els dos i varen anar a un lloc de fantasia i varen recorrer moltes aventures en tots els que lis feien por, i es feren amics de tots i mai mes varen tindre por de ningú. Conte contat, conte acabat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-8863114324303105315?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8863114324303105315/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=8863114324303105315' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/8863114324303105315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/8863114324303105315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2007/12/la-por-dels-dos-xiquets.html' title='La por dels dos xiquets'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/R2Uf7YJvRuI/AAAAAAAAAA4/P8TeonzQui0/s72-c/miedo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-41269621582079476</id><published>2007-11-02T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:16.109-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='juguetes'/><title type='text'>Los juguetes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RyuMQCwjjlI/AAAAAAAAAAw/ALxe2MknyVo/s1600-h/sample_toys2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RyuMQCwjjlI/AAAAAAAAAAw/ALxe2MknyVo/s320/sample_toys2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128346807937764946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habia una vez un anciano que tenía muchos juguetes por&lt;br /&gt;comprar. Estaba muy mal, porque nadie le compraba&lt;br /&gt;ni un juguete, y estaba muy mal. A la noche siguiente&lt;br /&gt;el anciano se acostó llorando, pero esa noche, en su&lt;br /&gt;casa aparecio una hada e hizo que los juguetes&lt;br /&gt;se compraran.  Y al dia siguiente todos los juguetes,&lt;br /&gt;se compraron y el anciano, se hizo rico. Y cuento&lt;br /&gt;contado cuento acabado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-41269621582079476?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/41269621582079476/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=41269621582079476' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/41269621582079476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/41269621582079476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2007/11/los-juguetes.html' title='Los juguetes'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RyuMQCwjjlI/AAAAAAAAAAw/ALxe2MknyVo/s72-c/sample_toys2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-3238591252577567074</id><published>2007-10-21T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:16.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La araña</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/Rxyd2i1_ZHI/AAAAAAAAAAo/1NySXi2AduM/s1600-h/arana-viuda-negra1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/Rxyd2i1_ZHI/AAAAAAAAAAo/1NySXi2AduM/s320/arana-viuda-negra1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124144036432536690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Había una vez una araña venenosa, era enemiga de todos y siempre echaba veneno a todos: animales, personas y mas cosas. Y llegó el día en que todos se juntaron a hacer una reunion y hablaron sobre el tema de la araña, de que tenían que atacar. Y luego la araña les fue a tirar veneno y se defendieron, y por fin la araña no les volvió a molestar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-3238591252577567074?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3238591252577567074/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=3238591252577567074' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/3238591252577567074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/3238591252577567074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/la-araa.html' title='La araña'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/Rxyd2i1_ZHI/AAAAAAAAAAo/1NySXi2AduM/s72-c/arana-viuda-negra1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-8808320019309577109</id><published>2007-10-20T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:16.776-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>El amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RxndzC1_ZFI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2kIAz0l8gb8/s1600-h/dibujos-amor-peq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RxndzC1_ZFI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2kIAz0l8gb8/s320/dibujos-amor-peq.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123369920117040210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi havia una vegada un poble molt amargat,  ningu era  amable fins que arribà un hada i va fer una pociò de amor i tots es varen enamorar , es varen casar , varen tindre fills i es va fer un poble content.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-8808320019309577109?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8808320019309577109/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=8808320019309577109' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/8808320019309577109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/8808320019309577109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/el-amor.html' title='El amor'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RxndzC1_ZFI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2kIAz0l8gb8/s72-c/dibujos-amor-peq.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037580170935509504.post-3563407081089669969</id><published>2007-10-19T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:57:16.958-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reyes Magos'/><title type='text'>Los Reyes Magos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RxkTfy1_ZEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/evz0PDwJuYA/s1600-h/navidad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RxkTfy1_ZEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/evz0PDwJuYA/s320/navidad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123147488055747650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Había una vez un niño que tenía 10 años, era pobre y sus padres eran pobres. Vivía en la calle y esperaron meses y meses: la primavera, el verano, el otoño y el invierno, y esperaron días y días y por fin llegaron los Reyes Magos y Papá Noel y les dieron todo lo que necesitaban y por fin vivieron felices.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5037580170935509504-3563407081089669969?l=historiasdezoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3563407081089669969/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5037580170935509504&amp;postID=3563407081089669969' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/3563407081089669969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5037580170935509504/posts/default/3563407081089669969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historiasdezoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/los-reyes-magos.html' title='Los Reyes Magos'/><author><name>Zoe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05038907344251536415</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/SJwyDedKf1I/AAAAAAAAACY/x7YUPuIo654/s1600-R/Alba_y_Zoe.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CgEYfqk-sJM/RxkTfy1_ZEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/evz0PDwJuYA/s72-c/navidad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
