Sparrows on a branch

I had an exchange the other night with my 4 ½-year-old daughter about what qualifies as a story. Who knew one of the joys of parenthood would be to see your child’s sense of narrative emerge?

***

It starts as usual:

Mama, tell me a story!

In hopes she’ll fall asleep soon, I try to keep it short:

Once upon a time, there were a Mama and a Dada who lived in California. They wanted a baby, and finally they had a little girl. One day they went to Target, and their baby played with the red concrete balls outside the store. Then they came home.

That’s not a story!! 

Why not?

A story has to be long!

Okay…

Once upon a time there was a granary, that’s like a tall tower filled with rice. It had a tiny window at the top. A sparrow flying past spotted the grains.

It flew in and picked one grain of rice for itself.

Then another sparrow came along and picked another grain of rice.

Then another sparrow came along and picked another grain of rice.

Then another sparrow came along and picked another grain of rice. Then another sparrow came along and picked another grain of rice. Then another sparrow came along and picked another grain of rice.

This is a “story” my aunt used to tell in hopes of getting me to sleep, or at least stop asking for more stories.

That’s not a story Mama!!! 

Why not? It’s long…there are lots of sparrows! 

Because nothing is happening! How about the next sparrow goes in for a grain but can’t get out? (She’s getting her hero in trouble and keeping him there!)

Okay….

The next sparrow flew in but was too little and the grain too heavy, so it couldn’t fly back out carrying it.

The story that forms: The next sparrow comes along and sees the problem, flies around to a bunch of animals to ask for ideas, the story ends with a sparrow squad flying in to create a rice mountain the littlest sparrow can climb to reach the window before the granary cat gets it.

Yes Mama, now THAT was a story!

Why was it a story? 

Because it was long.

But the earlier one was long, too.

Yeah…but this one has a name.

What’s the name of this story?

It’s called “How the sparrow couldn’t get out but then he did.”

***

Do you think Blundell might call that a theme sentence?

***

Jyoti Madhusoodanan is a freelance journalist based in Portland, Oregon who covers life sciences, health and chemistry.

Further Reading