Isaac and the Big Idea Tree

 

Isaac lived in the Broken City.

Nothing grew in the Broken City and the nights were very dark.

But Isaac had a Big Idea.

He wrote it down on a piece of paper. He drew a picture. Then he folded it up and put it in a little box to keep it safe.

‘What have you got there?’ said Isaac’s dad.

Isaac showed them. ‘It’s my Big Idea,’ he said. ‘But I need to tell the Prime-Minister.’

‘That sounds like fun!’ said his mum.

They liked an adventure.

So they left the Broken City.

‘See you soon!’ said Isaac to his friend Katie.

‘See you soon,’ said Katie.

First they walked down the long, silver road. The wind blew hard and Isaac held on tight. But the magic of the road whistled through him and into the little box.

Then they caught a boat and sailed the wide, green river. The boat rolled up and down and Isaac held on tight. But the magic of the water swirled alongside him and into the little box.

Finally, they caught a train and whizzed beneath the colourful houses. Isaac held on tight. But the magic of the tracks looped around him and into the little box.

‘Here we are!’ said his dad when they got to the Prime-Minister’s house.

‘Hello!’ said the round policeman on the doorstep. ‘What have you got there?’

‘It’s my Big Idea,’ said Isaac. ‘Can I show the Prime-Minister, please?’

‘Just in time!’ said the round policeman as the door opened.

‘Hello,’ said the Prime-Minister in his shiny suit. ‘What have you got there?’

‘It’s my Big Idea,’ said Isaac. ‘The nights won’t be so dark anymore.’

He opened the box and took out the piece of paper.

But the Prime-Minister didn’t look at it.

‘Busy, busy, busy!’ he said. ‘I’ve got so many ideas of my own!’

He jumped into his car and whizzed away.

Isaac looked down at his shoes.

‘Never mind,’ said his mum. ‘I don’t think the Prime-Minister likes adventures.’

 

When they got home, Isaac went outside. He scraped at the stones until he’d made a hole in the earth. Then he buried the box down deep where no one would find it.

‘Never mind,’ said Katie.

But Isaac felt so sad that he couldn’t talk out loud.

He curled up in his bed. He fell asleep. And the magic swirled around him.

 

The next morning, he went outside. In the stony earth, where he’d buried the box, a little tree was growing.

‘That’s strange,’ said Katie.

Nothing grew in the Broken City.

‘You’ll have to look after it,’ said his mum.

Isaac shook his head.

He was too angry to look after a tree.

‘It was your Big Idea,’ said his mum.

 

The tree grew quickly. Every day, Isaac watered it and kept it safe. The magic grew with it and before long, the tree was taller than he was. Soon it was covered in little, round fruit, as bright as candles.

‘Delicious!’ said Isaac’s dad.

People came from all over the city to look at the tree. They ate the fruit and it filled them up like a bowl of food.

Isaac loved it. But he still felt sad. It had been such a Big Idea.

‘Maybe Big Ideas need to start small,’ said his dad. 

‘Do you want to see my Big Idea?’ said Katie.

She was holding a box.

Isaac was pulling up weeds. He didn’t want to say ‘Busy, busy, busy!’

So he said, ‘O.K.’

Inside Katie’s box was a piece of paper, folded up. And on the piece of paper was Another Big Idea.

‘Where shall we plant it?’ said Isaac.

They dug a hole. They buried the piece of paper down deep and the magic swirled around them.

The next morning, they looked outside. In the rubble where they’d buried the paper, another little tree was growing.

Before long, everyone had a Big Idea and the City was full of trees. Every night they shone like candles. Isaac was busy, weeding and watering and looking after the fruit. He didn’t feel sad anymore. And the Broken City was never dark again.