Simple? Says Who? UFLI Foundations Lesson 118

Ned had built himself a brand new house. It had a roof, a door, and a sign outside that said Ned's House, just so no one got confused. Before this, he had lived in a tiny shed. Now he had walls and a floor. There was only one problem. Well, two problems. The ghosts that came out at night, and the fact that Ned was absolutely, completely hungry. His stomach ached.

A book with two short legs stood in the grass. It had bright eyes and held a quill. 'I have eaten nothing but apples for days,' Ned told The Book. 'Apples for breakfast. Apples for lunch. Apples for dinner. My stomach aches.' 'I can teach you to grow real food,' said The Book, tapping its quill. 'Not apples. But you must do exactly as I say.'

'Step one,' said The Book. 'Find patches of long grass and pull them apart. Look for seeds.' Ned crouched down and ripped up every clump of grass he could find. The grass rustled and snapped. Bits of green flew all around. Two sheep stopped chewing and stared at him like he had lost his mind. Then Ned spotted something. Tiny, hard, green things scattered in the dirt. 'What are these?' he asked.

'Seeds!' said The Book, sounding very pleased with itself. 'Wheat seeds. You can turn wheat into food.' 'Perfect,' said Ned, holding up a handful. 'I have found eight. That must be plenty.' 'Eight?' The Book made a sound like a laugh. 'Listen, Ned. Keep going.' So Ned pulled up more grass. And more. And more. The Book just stood there, watching, not pulling up a single blade.

When The Book was happy with the seeds, it sent Ned inside to the shop. 'You need a tool called a hoe,' it said, showing Ned a design. 'Long handle, curved blade. Simple.' 'Simple for who?' muttered Ned. He gathered up some stone and got to work. When the hoe was done, he picked it up and his arms were aching already. 'This thing is heavier than it looks!' 'You will be fine,' said The Book, who did not have to carry a thing, ever.

Outside, Ned found a flat spot near the trees and dragged the hoe through the dirt. The hoe caught on gnarled roots and jammed on rocks. His grunts echoed across the plot. But slowly, long smooth grooves appeared in the soil. 'Excellent work!' said The Book from the side of the plot, where it had been standing all that time, doing absolutely nothing. 'Thanks,' puffed Ned. 'Such a big help.'

Ned looked down at the soil and frowned. It was pale and dusty. He poked it and the dirt crumbled like sand. 'Nothing will grow in this,' he said. 'It is bone dry.' 'Correct!' said The Book. 'Seeds need moist soil. You will have to water it.' Ned looked at the plot. Then he looked at the beach, far away, the water glistening in the sun. Then he looked back at The Book. 'And how exactly am I supposed to do that?'

'Simple!' said The Book. Ned was really starting to hate that word. They hastened back to the shop. The Book flipped to a new page and showed Ned a sketch of a bucket. 'Make this. You can use it to carry water.' Ned counted out eight bars, hammered them flat, bent them round, and clanged them into shape. He held up a proper bucket. 'Perfect,' said The Book. 'Now fill it up.' 'Let me guess,' said Ned. 'Simple?'

Ned dipped the bucket into the water at the beach. It came out like it was full of rocks. He staggered sideways, nearly tipping into the sea. 'This bucket weighs a ton!' 'Water is heavy,' said The Book. 'We do not have far to go.' 'We?' gasped Ned. 'You are barely bigger than my lunchbox!' Grunting and groaning, Ned wrestled the bucket all the way back to the plot.

Ned knelt down and dug a hole in the middle of the dry dirt. 'Tip the water in there,' said The Book. 'The soil will soak it up.' 'It better,' said Ned, 'because I am not carrying another bucket.' He tipped the water in. Slowly, the pale dirt began to soften and turn dark. It spread out like a puddle on the ground, one patch at a time. 'It is working!' Ned grinned. His arms still ached. But it was working.

Ned planted his seeds, one by one, pressing each into the damp soil with his thumb. He set them in rows, aligned and neat. When he was done, he stood up and looked. Tiny green sprouts poked out of the dark soil. 'They are so small,' said Ned. 'When do I get food?' 'There is one more thing you need to do,' said The Book.

'What? Build something? Carry something? Dig another hole?' Ned was already rolling up his sleeves. 'No,' said The Book. 'Wait.' Ned blinked. 'Wait?' 'Wait. Watch them grow. Let the sun and water do their work. When the wheat stands tall, you can harvest it.' Ned stood in his plot and listened to the rustle of the wheat. After all that pulling, crafting, hoeing, and hauling a bucket that weighed a ton, the hardest job of all was the one where he had to do absolutely nothing. Just like The Book.