Deep, deep inside the head of a little girl named Ema, there, where dreams and ideas are born, stretched a vast, endless library. It wasn't just any ordinary library. Instead of shelves full of dust and old maps, it smelled of honey and raspberry syrup. Every single book on the shelves was made not of paper, but of pure joy, laughter, and experiences. Each book was one of Ema's memories.
The librarian in this wonderful world was a small, hardworking little fellow named Memo. He wore glasses as big as coat buttons, had hair messier than a sparrow's nest, and moved around the library on a small scooter powered by curiosity. His job was to take care of all the memories, dust them off, and put them in their proper place so that Ema could always find them when she needed them.
One day, however, something strange happened. Ema was sitting in her room, looking out the window. She felt somehow... empty. As if something was missing, but she didn't know what.
At that very moment, a small silver bell rang in the library of memories. It was the signal that one of the memories had been lost! Memo was just polishing the cheerful memory of Ema tasting a lemon for the first time. He quickly jumped off the ladder and scooted over to the main desk. A red light was blinking on the library map. Department: “The Best Days with Grandpa”. And indeed, an emptiness gaped on the shelf, right where the book titled “The Great Windy Adventure in the Park” was supposed to be.
“Oh, no!” Memo whispered to himself. “This was one of the happiest memories! Full of colors and laughter. Ema must not forget it.”
He knew he had no time to spare. A lost memory is like a balloon whose string has come untied. If he didn't find it quickly, it would fly away forever.
First, he headed to the Department of Forgotten Things. It was a rather chaotic corner of the library, where memories of lost socks or what was for lunch yesterday ended up. He rummaged through a pile of books about forgotten umbrellas and lost gloves, but the book about the windy adventure wasn't there.
“Alright, Memo, think,” he said to himself aloud. “What was that memory like? Cheerful? Really, really cheerful! So it must have left a trail of laughter.”
His scooter took him to Giggling Alley, where the books laughed when touched and spread sparkles of joy all around. Everything tingled and played with cheerful colors. Memo went from one laughing book to another. “No, you're the memory of a tickle from mommy... And you're the one about the joke that daddy told.” But the book about the adventure with grandpa was nowhere to be found. Just as he was about to give up, he spotted something small and colorful lying on the floor. It was a piece of a long, thin ribbon. It was red like a strawberry, blue like the sky, and yellow like the sun.
“Wait!” he exclaimed with excitement. “A ribbon just like this was on...” Suddenly, it hit him. The memory wasn't just about grandpa. It was also about colors and shapes!
He quickly got on his scooter and sped off to the Department of Colors and Shapes. In this part of the library, the memories were arranged differently. There were books in the shape of a circle, a triangle, or a star. Everything here shone brightly, and geometric figures floated in the air like colorful soap bubbles.
“It must be here somewhere,” he mumbled, carefully scanning the shelves. And then he saw it! Right at the very top, tucked between the memory of a rainbow and the memory of folding a paper boat. It was a book in the shape of a diamond, and a long, colorful tail of ribbons hung from its binding. Exactly like the piece he had found on the floor.
“Got you!” Memo cheered. He carefully took the book down and placed it on his reading desk. He opened it with suspense.
At that moment, a little light switched on in Ema's head. Suddenly, she remembered everything.
It was the day grandpa had taken her to the park. It wasn't just an ordinary breeze blowing, but a real, cheerful wind that played with the leaves on the trees. Grandpa had brought two thin wooden sticks, a large piece of sturdy paper, a ball of string, and colorful ribbons.
“We're going to build a kite, Ema,” he said with a smile. “One that will fly all the way to the clouds.”
Ema watched closely as grandpa joined the sticks into a cross. One was longer, the other shorter. “See? Now we’ll tie them,” he said, and Ema handed him the string. She counted: “One, two, three knots! So they don't come undone!” It was her first lesson in sturdiness.
Then they stretched the paper over the frame. A beautiful diamond shape was formed. “What do you think, will it fly?” grandpa asked. “Definitely!” Ema exclaimed.
They tried, but the kite just flopped clumsily on the ground. They laughed. “Never mind, that's great,” said grandpa. “Now we know how not to do it. It’s missing something important.”
“What?” Ema wondered.
“A tail! The tail helps it keep its balance so it doesn’t spin in the wind like a propeller,” grandpa explained. He showed Ema how to tie colorful ribbons to the end of the string. Ema chose them carefully. Red, blue, yellow. Together, they tied five of them.
They tried again. Ema held the kite and grandpa unwound the string. “Now!” grandpa shouted as a stronger gust of wind blew. Ema tossed the kite into the air and started running. And the kite flew! It soared higher and higher, its colorful tail dancing in the wind like a cheerful little snake. It was the most beautiful sight in the world.
Ema sat in her room, smiling from ear to ear. She wasn't sad anymore. She remembered! She remembered the feeling of holding the string and feeling the kite pull her toward the sky.
In her inner library, Memo closed the book with relief and carefully placed it back in its proper place, on the shelf labeled “The Best Days with Grandpa”. A few more sparkles of laughter fell from it.
“Done,” he said with satisfaction. “Every memory is a treasure. And treasures must be taken care of.” Then he got on his scooter and, with a cheerful whistle, rolled away to check if all the other books were in their places.
And what about you, children? What lovely experience have you had recently? Try to draw it or tell your parents about it. That way, you’ll help your own little librarian make sure that no important memory ever gets lost.