Once upon a time, there lived a little girl called Liza. She lived with her grandma in a small wooden hut right on the coast of Madagascar, so close to the shimmering ocean that when the tide was in, Liza could barely walk three steps from the front door without her toes getting wet. The sea was as much a part of Liza’s life as the air in her lungs or the ground beneath her feet, and she would often spend her afternoons exploring the coastline in her grandfather’s old sailing boat.
Liza’s grandfather had not been a rich man, or a man of many possessions. In fact, apart from the boat and the hut, Liza and her grandma owned nothing of his. Nothing but a very old, very beautiful rocking chair, that Liza’s grandfather had made for his wife soon after the birth of their first child. Liza, and her mother, and her aunts, and her uncles had all been nursed in that chair, and it was her grandma’s most precious possession. Some of Liza’s grandma’s favorite phrases were ‘Liza, be careful around that chair,’ or, ‘Liza, how many times do I have to tell you? Chairs are for sitting on, not standing,’ or, ‘I cannot think what I would do if anything were to happen to that chair’.
But one day, something did.
Liza’s grandma had gone out to visit a friend and, without anyone to talk to, Liza had to find ways to entertain herself. She drew a picture on her bedroom wall, but her bedroom was small and she soon ran out of space. She went to play with the boy next door, but there was nobody home. She even sailed all the way to the next village and back, but a strong wind set in and she was forced ashore. Eventually, Liza ran out of ideas, and decided to go home and find something to eat. Liza’s grandma kept all the food on a high shelf where small hands couldn’t reach, but Liza was a clever girl who could find a way around pretty much anything. So she looked around for something to stand on. In the corner of the room, something caught her eye. Her grandma’s rocking chair was the perfect height, a little wobbly of course but Liza had a good sense of balance. She dragged the chair over to the shelf and climbed up onto it. She reached, and stretched, and grasped at the air, but she still couldn’t reach the shelf. So Liza jumped. She launched herself into the air and her fingers just brushed the shelf, but before she had a chance to grab anything, she fell back down with a CRASH! Liza landed on the floor in a heap. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, feeling bruised and sore, but pretty much unharmed. And then she saw her Grandma’s precious rocking chair, or what was left of it, and decided that there was worse pain still to come.
At that moment, Liza’s grandma walked in. When she saw what had become of her once beautiful chair, she was enraged. ‘Liza!’ she shouted, ‘you stupid girl! I have told you time and time again to be careful with that chair but you never listen! You knew how precious that chair was to me. You knew it was all I had left to remember your grandpa by, but still you were careless and stupid, and now it is broken beyond repair. Get out of my sight!’
So Liza ran into her room and lay, sobbing, beneath the covers until it felt like she had no tears left to shed. She decided to make it up to her grandma. She decided to make her a chair even more beautiful than her old one, but she couldn’t make it at home. She had no wood to make the chair, or fabric to make the cushion, and she could never make a chair as beautiful as the old one on her own. She remembered the stories her grandfather had told her when she was younger, of his travels around the world to see the cherry orchards of Japan, the opal mines of Australia and the silk sellers of India, and a plan began to form in her mind. So she lay there listening until she heard her grandma’s snores coming from the next room and crept quietly out of the house, taking with her some food and water, her grandpa’s map of the world and compass and a blanket. She tiptoed down the beach to where she had left the boat, dragged it to the water’s edge and climbed in.
Once in the water it was easy enough to navigate, and she wandered why she had never sailed away from the coast before. There was so much out there to see and she decided that one day, when she was older, she would see it all. But for now she would concentrate on the task at hand.
First, Liza sailed to Japan. It took her a few days to find her way through the islands of Indonesia and the Philippines but eventually she reached her destination. Once she had tied up her boat, she wandered inland, asking directions from the odd passer-bye. Soon enough she reached a beautiful orchard of blossoming cherry trees. In the middle of the orchard was an old man, with skin that was gnarled and wrinkled like bark. He was gazing down at a fallen cherry tree. Liza walked up to the man, ‘Excuse me,’ she asked ‘what are you doing?’ The man looked up, startled.
‘I’m trying to think of what I could make with this tree,’ he replied, ‘It fell down two days ago in a strong wind and it seems a shame to let it go to waste.’
‘Well,’ said Liza, ‘I have an idea of what you could do with it…’ and she told the old man the story of how she had broken her grandma’s rocking chair and was sailing around the world to find the materials to make her a new one. The man was amazed by the little girl’s determination and agreed to help her make the chair. ‘It will be nice,’ he said, ‘to see this old tree being put to use.’
And so, Liza and the old man got to work. They chopped and carved and shaped the old tree into a marvelous rocking chair. When it was finished, Liza looked at her work and was proud, but it was still very plain. She remembered how beautiful her grandma’s chair had been and decided to make her chair more beautiful still. The kind old man took Liza and the chair back to the shore and bid her goodbye. Liza heaved the chair into the boat and set sail again.
Next, Liza sailed south past Papua New Guinea until she reached the sandy coast of Australia. She dragged the boat ashore and walked a little way along the beach. She rounded a corner and almost fell down a huge hole dug into the ground. It was surrounded by old bits of machinery and next to it was a huge pile of rubble. She decided it must be one of the opal mines her grandfather had spoken of, abandoned by the look of it. Some of the rubble moved next to her and she gasped. ‘Oh!’ exclaimed a young man who appeared from behind the rubble, ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.’ Something glinted in the man’s hand. ‘What are you holding?’ asked Liza. The man opened his hands and showed her a small pile of pale blue stones that glistened and glinted in the sunlight. In places the sun hit them straight on and they shone in a rainbow of colour. Liza was mesmerized by the beautiful stones, and she thought how pretty they would look on her chair. ‘What are they?’ she whispered.
‘Opals,’ said the young man, ‘they abandoned this mine years ago but you can still find hundreds of these left over in the rubble.’
‘Do you think I could have some?’ asked Liza, ‘only… ’ and she told the man the story of how she had broken her grandma’s rocking chair and was sailing around the world to find the materials to make her a new one. The man was touched by the little girl’s generosity and agreed to help her set some opals in the chair. ‘Don’t you worry,’ he said, ‘we will make this the most beautiful chair in the world.’
And so, Liza and the young man cut and glued and fitted the opals until they were set fast in the wood. When it was finished, Liza looked at her work and was proud, but it still looked rather hard. She remembered how soft and comfortable her grandma’s chair had been and she decided to make her chair softer still. She bid goodbye to the young man, heaved the chair into the boat and set sail once more.
Next, Liza sailed northwest. It took her a few days, but soon enough she reached the exotic shores of India. She didn’t have to walk far before she found herself surrounded by the vibrant colours and mouth-watering smells of an Indian market. She pushed her way through the crowds of people until she found a woman sitting at a loom, weaving the most beautiful fabric Liza had ever seen. Liza walked up to the woman, ‘Excuse me,’ she asked ‘what are you making?’ The woman looked up, startled.
‘I’m weaving silk,’ she replied, ‘would you like to buy some?’
‘Oh,’ said Liza, ‘I don’t have any money. But I could really use some fabric like that, you see…’ and she told the old woman the story of how she had broken her grandma’s rocking chair and was sailing around the world to find the materials to make her a new one. The woman was amused by the little girl’s naivety, but agreed to help her make the chair. ‘It is an honor,’ she said, ‘to meet someone so small, with such big heart.’
And so, Liza and the woman got to work. They wove and cut and sewed the silk to make a cushion softer and more beautiful than the cushion on the old chair had ever been. When it was finished, Liza looked at her work and was proud, but the cushion was still very flat. She remembered how plump and squishy her grandma’s cushion had been and decided to make one even plumper. Liza bid goodbye to the Indian woman, took her cushion and set sail once again.
This time, Liza sailed west, then north, then northeast, until she eventually reached Norway. Liza’s grandfather had once told her of the eider ducks that lived in the northernmost regions of the earth, and flew south in the winter to Norway, where it was warmer. Apparently, they had the softest breast feathers of all the birds in the world, and it was these feathers Liza intended to use to stuff her cushion.
After days of traveling, Liza eventually reached Norway. The beach here was different to any beach she had ever seen before. It was covered in a white powder that was cold to the touch. Snow, thought Liza, as she wrapped herself up in her blanket. ‘If it’s this cold here,’ she said to herself, ‘imagine how cold it must be in the far north, where the ducks come from.’
‘Very cold I imagine,’ someone behind her mused. Liza span around to find a man with a red face and a white beard, plucking the feathers from a duck. ‘Is that an eider duck you have there?’ she asked.
‘Why yes, it is,’ the man replied, ‘how did you know?’
‘My grandfather came here when he was a young man,’ she told him, ‘he told me stories of the ducks who fly south for the winter. I wander if you could help me, only…’ and she told the bearded man the story of how she had broken her grandma’s rocking chair and was sailing around the world to find the materials to make her a new one. The man was surprised by the little girl’s intelligence and agreed to help her stuff the cushion. ‘It is refreshing,’ he said, ‘to meet someone so young, who is so well educated in the ways of the world.’
And so, Liza and the bearded man got to work. They plucked and stuffed and plumped until the cushion was bulging at the seems. When it was finished, Liza placed the cushion on the chair and was proud. The chair was perfect. It was stronger, and more comfortable, and more beautiful than her grandma’s old chair had ever been. Liza bid goodbye to the bearded man, heaved the chair and it’s new cushion back into the boat and set sail for home.
Liza sailed for days and days and days, heading forever homeward. However, just when the beautiful island of Madagascar began to appear over the horizon, a wild storm set in. The angry sky opened up above Liza and a heavy rain soaked her to the skin. Her little boat was tossed violently about in the waves, and more than once Liza was very nearly thrown into the dark ocean. Liza’s compass was swallowed by the sea and, with all sense of direction lost, she headed for the first island she saw. Clinging to the rocking chair, Liza fought determinedly against the huge waves until she finally reached the island. Once there she turned her boat upside down, curled up underneath and settles into a deep, deep sleep.
When Liza opened her eyes, it took her a moment to remember what had happened. When she did, however, a cold panic settled over her. She had no idea where she was, or how far she was from home. She had even lost her compass. Eventually, she decided the only way she could possibly find her way home would be to ask one of the locals where she was and hope that they could point her in the right direction. So she slid her fingers under the edge of the boat and started to lift it up. It wouldn’t move. She pushed and pulled and lifted with all her strength, but it just wouldn’t budge. In a fit of panic, she started to bang her fists against the sides of the boat, screaming at the top of her voice. A startled cry came from above her. Liza stopped screaming and watched as four huge fingers appeared under the edge of the boat and carefully lifted it up. The boat tipped over, and Liza emerged, blinking, into the sunlight. Pulling herself up from the sand, she saw a large man standing over her. His skin was as dark as hers and he had huge muscles and kind looking eyes. ‘I’m sorry for sitting on your boat,’ he said, ‘I just needed a place to sit whilst I was carving. I’m a sculptor you see.’ Liza looked to her left and saw a bone knife lying next to an intricately carved wooden bowl and a pile of wood shavings. She was also relieved to see her rocking chair sitting just where she had left it the night before. ‘My chair is ok!’ she whispered.
‘That is your chair?’ asked the man, ‘It is very well made.’
‘Thank you,’ said Liza, and she told the man the story of how she had broken her grandma’s rocking chair and had sailing around the world to find the materials to make her a new one, before getting lost in a storm. The man was inspired by the little girl’s courage and said, ‘I have never met a girl so brave. But, you know, I think there is one thing missing from this chair.’
‘What?’ asked Liza, worried that she had forgotten something.
‘A story,’ said the man, ‘But don’t worry, I can help you with that.’ And with the man’s help Liza carved into the chair pictures of all the wonderful things she had seen. There were cherry trees from Japan, opals from Australia, an Indian market and snow from Norway. When it was finished, Liza looked at the chair and was prouder than she had ever been.
‘Beautiful,’ said the man.
‘It is,’ Liza agreed, ‘but unfortunately my grandma will never be able to see it.’
‘Why ever not?’ asked the man.
‘Because,’ said Liza, ‘I am lost and I have no compass and I will never be able to find my way home.’ As she said this, Liza realized that it was true, and began to cry.
‘Oh dear,’ the man whispered with a worried look on his face, ‘where is your home?’
‘Manampatra, on the coast of Madagascar.’
‘Why,’ said the man, ‘you are in Madagascar right now, on the beach near Vilamatsa. Manampatra is only a few miles down the coast!’ Liza looked up at the man, hardly able to believe her ears.
‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’ she squealed, hugging him tightly. The man laughed and bid her goodbye, as she ran to the boat and set sail for the last time.
It took Liza less than twenty minutes to get home, and as she was approaching the Manampatra beach, she saw her grandma standing on her doorstep, looking out to sea. She looked sad, Liza thought, and it suddenly hit her that she had been gone for over a month. Her grandma must have been worried sick. She waved her arms in the air to attract her attention. ‘Grandma!’ she shouted, ‘Grandma it’s me! I’m home!’ Liza’s grandma looked up at her and blinked, slowly, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Then she started running down the beach towards her. ‘Liza!’ she yelled, ‘where have you been? I’ve been worried sick! Are you ok?’
‘I’m fine, Grandma,’ Liza said, and she jumped out of the boat and waded the rest of the way through the shallows. When she reached the shore her Grandma pulled her into her arms and kissed the top of her forehead.
‘What’s that on the boat?’ she asked. Liza gave an exited squeal and ran to get the chair. She dragged it out of the boat and pulled off the blanket that was covering it. Her grandma gasped.
‘It’s beautiful,’ said her grandma, ‘did you make it?’ Liza nodded, and dragged her grandma inside to try out her new chair. And she sat there on her new rocking chair long into the night, listening as Liza told stories of her amazing adventures around the world.
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