A story
Rawan Packs Her Own Suitcase for the Trip to Grandma Najla's
On Wednesday evening, Mama put a small purple suitcase on Rawan's bed. It had silver zips, two little wheels, and a handle that slid up and down with a click.
"Tomorrow we are going to stay with Grandma Najla in the mountains," said Mama. "For three whole nights. And this time, you are big enough to pack your own suitcase."
Rawan's eyes went wide. She was five and a half, and she had never packed a suitcase all by herself.
"My own suitcase?" she said. "With my own things?"
"Your very own," said Mama. "I will be in the kitchen if you need help."
Mama went out. Rawan looked at the empty purple suitcase. It looked very big and very exciting.
She unzipped it. Zzzzip! Inside it was lined with soft striped fabric and had a little pocket with a button.
"What shall I bring?" Rawan said to herself. She looked around her room.
There was Bunbun, her floppy grey rabbit with one ear that stuck up. Of course Bunbun had to come. She put Bunbun in the suitcase.
Then she saw her box of building blocks. Grandma's house might not have blocks. She tipped the whole box in. Clatter, clatter, clunk.
Next she saw her three favorite books, her shell collection in a jar, her toy teapot with four tiny cups, her drum, her roller skates, and her rainbow umbrella. In they went, one after another.
Then she remembered her little toy kitchen. It was too big to fit. But the pots and pans were small. In they went too. Clang, clang.
By now the suitcase was very full. Rawan pushed the lid down. It popped back up. She sat on the lid and bounced. Boing. It popped up again, and a toy spoon flew out and landed on the carpet.
"Hmm," said Rawan.
Just then, Mama looked in through the door. She saw the drum sticking out of one corner, and the roller skates sticking out of another, and Bunbun's ear poking out of the top.
"My goodness," said Mama, trying not to laugh. "What a lot of things. Tell me, Rawan, what will you wear at Grandma Najla's house?"
Rawan stopped bouncing. She looked down at the suitcase. There were blocks and books and pots and pans. But there were no clothes at all.
"Oh," she said. "I forgot my clothes."
"And what about your toothbrush?" asked Mama. "And your pajamas? It is cold in the mountains at night."
Rawan's face fell. "There is no room," she said in a small voice. "But I want to bring everything."
Mama sat down on the bed beside her. "I know," she said kindly. "It is hard to choose. Shall we make a plan together?"
Rawan nodded.
Mama took a piece of paper and a crayon. "Let us draw what you need," she said. "Not what you want. What you really need. Then we can see how much room is left."
So they drew. Mama drew a little shirt, and Rawan colored it yellow. "Three shirts," said Mama. "One for each day."
Rawan drew trousers, three of them, blue and green and brown. She drew socks, lots of socks, with stripes. She drew her warm pink pajamas with the stars on them. She drew her fuzzy slippers. She drew a thick woolly sweater, because Grandma's house was in the mountains, and the wind up there was chilly.
Mama drew a toothbrush and a little tube of toothpaste. Rawan drew her hairbrush and her hair clips with the daisies on them.
"Now," said Mama, "let us take everything out and start again."
Out came the blocks, the books, the shells, the teapot, the drum, the skates, the umbrella, the pots and the pans. Rawan made a big pile on the carpet.
Then she looked at the drawing and packed only what was on it. She folded her shirts the way Mama showed her, sleeves in, then in half. She rolled her socks into little balls, like snowballs. She laid her pajamas on top, and her sweater on top of that. She put her toothbrush and hairbrush in the little pocket and did up the button.
The suitcase was almost full. But there was still a small space in one corner.
"There is room for something special," said Mama. "Maybe two small things. What do you choose?"
Rawan looked at the big pile on the carpet. She looked at the blocks. They were fun, but they were heavy. She looked at the drum. It was fun, but it was loud, and Grandma liked her afternoon nap. She looked at the roller skates. Grandma's garden was full of rocks and grass, not smooth floors.
Then she picked up Bunbun and hugged him. "Bunbun," she said. "Because I cannot sleep without him."
"Good choice," said Mama. "And one more?"
Rawan thought hard. Then she picked up one book. It was the book about the little goat who climbed a mountain.
"Grandma Najla can read it to me," she said. "Because she lives on a mountain too."
Mama smiled. "That is the best choice of all."
Bunbun and the book fit perfectly in the corner. Rawan closed the lid. This time it did not pop up. She pulled the zip all the way around. Zzzzzip!
She stood the suitcase up on its little wheels and pulled up the handle. Click. It rolled smoothly across the carpet.
"I packed it myself," said Rawan proudly.
The next morning, they drove up the winding mountain road. Pine trees stood tall on every side, and the air smelled fresh and green. When they reached the little stone house, Grandma Najla was waiting at the door in her blue shawl.
"My Rawan!" she cried, and she gave her a big warm hug.
That night, it was very cold outside. The wind whistled around the house. But Rawan was cozy in her warm pink pajamas and her fuzzy slippers. She sat on Grandma Najla's lap by the fire, with Bunbun under her arm.
"What story shall we read?" asked Grandma.
Rawan held up her book. "The one about the little goat on the mountain," she said. "I packed it just for you."
"Tomorrow we are going to stay with Grandma Najla in the mountains," said Mama. "For three whole nights. And this time, you are big enough to pack your own suitcase."
Rawan's eyes went wide. She was five and a half, and she had never packed a suitcase all by herself.
"My own suitcase?" she said. "With my own things?"
"Your very own," said Mama. "I will be in the kitchen if you need help."
Mama went out. Rawan looked at the empty purple suitcase. It looked very big and very exciting.
She unzipped it. Zzzzip! Inside it was lined with soft striped fabric and had a little pocket with a button.
"What shall I bring?" Rawan said to herself. She looked around her room.
There was Bunbun, her floppy grey rabbit with one ear that stuck up. Of course Bunbun had to come. She put Bunbun in the suitcase.
Then she saw her box of building blocks. Grandma's house might not have blocks. She tipped the whole box in. Clatter, clatter, clunk.
Next she saw her three favorite books, her shell collection in a jar, her toy teapot with four tiny cups, her drum, her roller skates, and her rainbow umbrella. In they went, one after another.
Then she remembered her little toy kitchen. It was too big to fit. But the pots and pans were small. In they went too. Clang, clang.
By now the suitcase was very full. Rawan pushed the lid down. It popped back up. She sat on the lid and bounced. Boing. It popped up again, and a toy spoon flew out and landed on the carpet.
"Hmm," said Rawan.
Just then, Mama looked in through the door. She saw the drum sticking out of one corner, and the roller skates sticking out of another, and Bunbun's ear poking out of the top.
"My goodness," said Mama, trying not to laugh. "What a lot of things. Tell me, Rawan, what will you wear at Grandma Najla's house?"
Rawan stopped bouncing. She looked down at the suitcase. There were blocks and books and pots and pans. But there were no clothes at all.
"Oh," she said. "I forgot my clothes."
"And what about your toothbrush?" asked Mama. "And your pajamas? It is cold in the mountains at night."
Rawan's face fell. "There is no room," she said in a small voice. "But I want to bring everything."
Mama sat down on the bed beside her. "I know," she said kindly. "It is hard to choose. Shall we make a plan together?"
Rawan nodded.
Mama took a piece of paper and a crayon. "Let us draw what you need," she said. "Not what you want. What you really need. Then we can see how much room is left."
So they drew. Mama drew a little shirt, and Rawan colored it yellow. "Three shirts," said Mama. "One for each day."
Rawan drew trousers, three of them, blue and green and brown. She drew socks, lots of socks, with stripes. She drew her warm pink pajamas with the stars on them. She drew her fuzzy slippers. She drew a thick woolly sweater, because Grandma's house was in the mountains, and the wind up there was chilly.
Mama drew a toothbrush and a little tube of toothpaste. Rawan drew her hairbrush and her hair clips with the daisies on them.
"Now," said Mama, "let us take everything out and start again."
Out came the blocks, the books, the shells, the teapot, the drum, the skates, the umbrella, the pots and the pans. Rawan made a big pile on the carpet.
Then she looked at the drawing and packed only what was on it. She folded her shirts the way Mama showed her, sleeves in, then in half. She rolled her socks into little balls, like snowballs. She laid her pajamas on top, and her sweater on top of that. She put her toothbrush and hairbrush in the little pocket and did up the button.
The suitcase was almost full. But there was still a small space in one corner.
"There is room for something special," said Mama. "Maybe two small things. What do you choose?"
Rawan looked at the big pile on the carpet. She looked at the blocks. They were fun, but they were heavy. She looked at the drum. It was fun, but it was loud, and Grandma liked her afternoon nap. She looked at the roller skates. Grandma's garden was full of rocks and grass, not smooth floors.
Then she picked up Bunbun and hugged him. "Bunbun," she said. "Because I cannot sleep without him."
"Good choice," said Mama. "And one more?"
Rawan thought hard. Then she picked up one book. It was the book about the little goat who climbed a mountain.
"Grandma Najla can read it to me," she said. "Because she lives on a mountain too."
Mama smiled. "That is the best choice of all."
Bunbun and the book fit perfectly in the corner. Rawan closed the lid. This time it did not pop up. She pulled the zip all the way around. Zzzzzip!
She stood the suitcase up on its little wheels and pulled up the handle. Click. It rolled smoothly across the carpet.
"I packed it myself," said Rawan proudly.
The next morning, they drove up the winding mountain road. Pine trees stood tall on every side, and the air smelled fresh and green. When they reached the little stone house, Grandma Najla was waiting at the door in her blue shawl.
"My Rawan!" she cried, and she gave her a big warm hug.
That night, it was very cold outside. The wind whistled around the house. But Rawan was cozy in her warm pink pajamas and her fuzzy slippers. She sat on Grandma Najla's lap by the fire, with Bunbun under her arm.
"What story shall we read?" asked Grandma.
Rawan held up her book. "The one about the little goat on the mountain," she said. "I packed it just for you."
