A story
The Paper Boat That Sailed Down the Lane
All morning, it rained on the little village. Pitter, patter, pitter, patter.
Zara and her little brother Sami sat by the window, watching the raindrops race down the glass.
"When will it stop?" asked Sami.
And then, just after lunch, it did stop.
The clouds rolled away. The sun peeked out. Everything shone and dripped and sparkled.
Zara and Sami pulled on their raincoats. Zara's was yellow. Sami's was blue. They pulled on their rain boots too. Stomp, stomp, stomp. Then they ran outside.
The lane in front of their house was made of round gray stones. And all along the side of the lane, a long stream of rainwater was rushing downhill. It gurgled and splashed. It swirled around the stones. It carried little leaves and twigs along with it, faster and faster.
"Look at it go!" said Sami.
Zara watched the water. Then she had an idea. Her eyes lit up.
"Sami," she said. "Let us make a boat!"
They ran back inside. Zara found a clean sheet of white paper. She knew how to fold a paper boat. Her grandmother had taught her last summer.
"Fold it in half," Zara said, folding carefully. "Then fold down the corners. Then open up the bottom, like this. And pull the sides out."
Sami watched with wide eyes. Fold, fold, press. Fold, fold, press. And then, like magic, there was a little paper boat in Zara's hands. It had a pointy middle and two neat sides.
"Can I decorate it?" asked Sami.
"Of course," said Zara.
Sami took his yellow crayon. He thought for a moment. Then, on the side of the boat, he drew a round, smiling sun with lots of little rays.
"So the boat will always have good weather," he explained.
"That is perfect," said Zara.
They ran back outside to the lane. Zara knelt down by the rushing stream of water. Sami knelt down beside her.
"Ready?" said Zara.
"Ready!" said Sami.
Zara set the boat gently on the water.
Whoosh! Away it went.
The little boat bobbed and spun. Then it straightened out and zoomed down the lane, riding on the rainwater.
"Follow it!" cried Sami.
So they ran. Splash, splash, splash went their boots through the puddles. The boat sailed on, and they ran right beside it.
It sailed past their neighbor's garden, where pink flowers dripped with rain. "Go, boat, go!" shouted Sami.
It sailed past the bakery, where the air smelled of warm rolls. The baker waved from the doorway. "Go, boat, go!" shouted Sami.
It sailed past the bus stop, where an old lady with an umbrella smiled at them. "Go, boat, go!" shouted Sami.
Then the boat came to a big, flat, brown leaf. It bumped into it. It spun around once, twice, three times. Zara and Sami held their breath.
Then it slipped past the leaf and kept on going.
"Hooray!" they cheered.
But just a little farther down the lane, there was a stick. A long, knobbly stick, lying right across the stream.
The little boat sailed straight into it. Bump.
And it stopped.
Water pushed against the boat from behind. The boat wobbled. It tipped to one side. A splash of water washed over the top. Then another.
"Oh no!" cried Sami. He grabbed Zara's sleeve. "It is going to sink! Our boat is going to sink!"
Zara did not panic. She knelt down beside the stream. She reached out slowly, so she would not make a big wave.
Very gently, she lifted the stick out of the water.
The little boat gave a wobble. It shook off the water. Then it bobbed up straight and sailed on, as if nothing had happened.
Sami let out a big breath. "You saved it," he said.
"We saved it together," said Zara. "You saw it first."
They ran on. Splash, splash, splash.
At the very bottom of the lane, the stream of rainwater flowed into a big, wide puddle by the park. It was almost as big as a pond. The sky was reflected in it, blue with fluffy white clouds.
The little boat sailed into the middle of the puddle.
And then it stopped.
It did not zoom anymore. It just floated round and round and round in slow circles.
Sami frowned. "Now it cannot go anywhere," he said. "The water stopped pushing it."
Near the puddle was a wooden park bench. On the bench sat an old man. He wore a soft gray cap and a long green scarf. He had been watching the whole time.
"That is a very fine boat," he said with a smile. "Did you make it yourselves?"
"Yes," said Zara proudly. "I folded it."
"And I drew the sun," said Sami.
"I can see that," said the old man. "A boat with its own sunshine. That is a lucky boat."
He stood up slowly and walked over to the edge of the puddle.
"You know," he said, "when I was a boy, I made boats just like that. I sailed them down this very same lane."
"You did?" said Sami.
"I did," said the old man. "And when my boats got stuck in the big puddle, I learned a trick. Would you like me to show you?"
Zara and Sami nodded hard.
The old man took a little square of paper from his coat pocket. He folded it into a tiny triangle. Then he found a thin twig on the ground. He poked the twig through the paper. Now it looked like a little flag.
"A sail," he said.
Zara fished the boat out of the puddle. Sami carefully pushed the twig into the middle of the boat, so the sail stood up tall.
Then Zara placed the boat back on the water.
They all waited.
At first, nothing happened.
Then, a soft breeze came across the park. It rustled the trees. It ruffled Sami's hair. And it filled the little paper sail.
The boat began to move. Slowly at first. Then a little faster. It sailed all the way across the big puddle, all on its own, with its yellow sun shining on the side.
Sami cheered and jumped up and down. Splash! Zara clapped and grinned. Even the old man laughed and clapped his hands.
"Can we do it again?" asked Sami.
"As many times as you like," said the old man, and he sat down on the edge of the bench to watch.
So they sailed the little boat back and forth across the puddle, all afternoon long, until the sun began to set.
Zara and her little brother Sami sat by the window, watching the raindrops race down the glass.
"When will it stop?" asked Sami.
And then, just after lunch, it did stop.
The clouds rolled away. The sun peeked out. Everything shone and dripped and sparkled.
Zara and Sami pulled on their raincoats. Zara's was yellow. Sami's was blue. They pulled on their rain boots too. Stomp, stomp, stomp. Then they ran outside.
The lane in front of their house was made of round gray stones. And all along the side of the lane, a long stream of rainwater was rushing downhill. It gurgled and splashed. It swirled around the stones. It carried little leaves and twigs along with it, faster and faster.
"Look at it go!" said Sami.
Zara watched the water. Then she had an idea. Her eyes lit up.
"Sami," she said. "Let us make a boat!"
They ran back inside. Zara found a clean sheet of white paper. She knew how to fold a paper boat. Her grandmother had taught her last summer.
"Fold it in half," Zara said, folding carefully. "Then fold down the corners. Then open up the bottom, like this. And pull the sides out."
Sami watched with wide eyes. Fold, fold, press. Fold, fold, press. And then, like magic, there was a little paper boat in Zara's hands. It had a pointy middle and two neat sides.
"Can I decorate it?" asked Sami.
"Of course," said Zara.
Sami took his yellow crayon. He thought for a moment. Then, on the side of the boat, he drew a round, smiling sun with lots of little rays.
"So the boat will always have good weather," he explained.
"That is perfect," said Zara.
They ran back outside to the lane. Zara knelt down by the rushing stream of water. Sami knelt down beside her.
"Ready?" said Zara.
"Ready!" said Sami.
Zara set the boat gently on the water.
Whoosh! Away it went.
The little boat bobbed and spun. Then it straightened out and zoomed down the lane, riding on the rainwater.
"Follow it!" cried Sami.
So they ran. Splash, splash, splash went their boots through the puddles. The boat sailed on, and they ran right beside it.
It sailed past their neighbor's garden, where pink flowers dripped with rain. "Go, boat, go!" shouted Sami.
It sailed past the bakery, where the air smelled of warm rolls. The baker waved from the doorway. "Go, boat, go!" shouted Sami.
It sailed past the bus stop, where an old lady with an umbrella smiled at them. "Go, boat, go!" shouted Sami.
Then the boat came to a big, flat, brown leaf. It bumped into it. It spun around once, twice, three times. Zara and Sami held their breath.
Then it slipped past the leaf and kept on going.
"Hooray!" they cheered.
But just a little farther down the lane, there was a stick. A long, knobbly stick, lying right across the stream.
The little boat sailed straight into it. Bump.
And it stopped.
Water pushed against the boat from behind. The boat wobbled. It tipped to one side. A splash of water washed over the top. Then another.
"Oh no!" cried Sami. He grabbed Zara's sleeve. "It is going to sink! Our boat is going to sink!"
Zara did not panic. She knelt down beside the stream. She reached out slowly, so she would not make a big wave.
Very gently, she lifted the stick out of the water.
The little boat gave a wobble. It shook off the water. Then it bobbed up straight and sailed on, as if nothing had happened.
Sami let out a big breath. "You saved it," he said.
"We saved it together," said Zara. "You saw it first."
They ran on. Splash, splash, splash.
At the very bottom of the lane, the stream of rainwater flowed into a big, wide puddle by the park. It was almost as big as a pond. The sky was reflected in it, blue with fluffy white clouds.
The little boat sailed into the middle of the puddle.
And then it stopped.
It did not zoom anymore. It just floated round and round and round in slow circles.
Sami frowned. "Now it cannot go anywhere," he said. "The water stopped pushing it."
Near the puddle was a wooden park bench. On the bench sat an old man. He wore a soft gray cap and a long green scarf. He had been watching the whole time.
"That is a very fine boat," he said with a smile. "Did you make it yourselves?"
"Yes," said Zara proudly. "I folded it."
"And I drew the sun," said Sami.
"I can see that," said the old man. "A boat with its own sunshine. That is a lucky boat."
He stood up slowly and walked over to the edge of the puddle.
"You know," he said, "when I was a boy, I made boats just like that. I sailed them down this very same lane."
"You did?" said Sami.
"I did," said the old man. "And when my boats got stuck in the big puddle, I learned a trick. Would you like me to show you?"
Zara and Sami nodded hard.
The old man took a little square of paper from his coat pocket. He folded it into a tiny triangle. Then he found a thin twig on the ground. He poked the twig through the paper. Now it looked like a little flag.
"A sail," he said.
Zara fished the boat out of the puddle. Sami carefully pushed the twig into the middle of the boat, so the sail stood up tall.
Then Zara placed the boat back on the water.
They all waited.
At first, nothing happened.
Then, a soft breeze came across the park. It rustled the trees. It ruffled Sami's hair. And it filled the little paper sail.
The boat began to move. Slowly at first. Then a little faster. It sailed all the way across the big puddle, all on its own, with its yellow sun shining on the side.
Sami cheered and jumped up and down. Splash! Zara clapped and grinned. Even the old man laughed and clapped his hands.
"Can we do it again?" asked Sami.
"As many times as you like," said the old man, and he sat down on the edge of the bench to watch.
So they sailed the little boat back and forth across the puddle, all afternoon long, until the sun began to set.
