The River That Wanted to Sing

At the edge of the Meadow ran a little river. Every morning it sang: it gurgled over the stones and said hello to the little fish. Mingo and Zana often sat on the bank to listen. But one day, when they came, the river wasn’t singing any more. The water crept along, slow and cloudy, as if it were tired.

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Mingo whipped out his magnifying glass. “Why isn’t it singing? What’s happened to it?” He crept up to the water and looked: plastic bags caught between the stones, bottles blocking the water’s way, bottle tops and bits of brightly coloured wrappers. “The river isn’t ill,” Mingo said slowly. “The plastic has blocked its way, and its voice too.”

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Zana felt sad, and then cross. “Who would do something like this?” “Maybe someone who didn’t know,” said Mingo. “Leaves rot and turn into soil, but plastic doesn’t. It can stay in the water for hundreds of years, breaking into bits so tiny that fish swallow them.” Suddenly, Zana’s light flicked on. “I’ve got an idea! If the river can’t clean itself, we’ll help it!”

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Zana called all their friends, and Bleta arrived with gloves for everyone. Mingo set out four baskets on the bank and stuck a label on each: PLASTIC, GLASS, METAL, PAPER. “Why four?” asked Nini. “Because every kind of rubbish can become something new,” Mingo explained, “but only if we sort it properly. A plastic bottle can become a new bottle, or even a park bench!”

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The work began. Nini, the youngest in the team, picked up bottle tops from between the pebbles. “One, two, three, four, five… and lots more!” Dali, patient as ever, slowly peeled bits of plastic off the reeds without tearing them. “Slow and steady, nice and neat!” Mingo and Zana tugged the bags free from the stones and put each one in the right basket.

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By a big stone, Mingo spotted a broken glass bottle with sharp edges. Further along, an old, heavy can was stuck deep in the mud. Mingo reached out. “Wait!” Bleta said calmly. “Sharp things can cut you, and heavy things can hurt you. When something is sharp or heavy, what do we do?” “We ask a grown-up for help!” everyone answered.

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Bleta went to fetch the grown-ups of the Meadow. They came with thick gloves, a strong rope and a bucket for the broken glass. Very carefully, they put the glass in the bucket. Then everyone grabbed the rope together, big and small. “One, two, three… pull!” The can came out of the mud with a great big “plop!”, and everyone tumbled onto the grass, laughing.

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When the very last bag came out, the water began to flow faster. It tumbled over the stones, sparkled in the sun and turned clear again. “Shh!” said Zana. “Listen!” Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle! The river was singing again. A little fish leapt out of the water, as if to say “thank you”. Nini clapped with joy.

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In the end, the plastic basket was full to the brim. Mingo thought hard. “We cleaned the river today. But how will we keep it clean tomorrow?” Zana and Dali made a big, colourful sign together: “THE RIVER SINGS HERE. PLEASE DON’T DROP LITTER!” Next to it they put a bin. Meanwhile, Bleta took the baskets to the recycling centre, so the rubbish could be turned into new things.

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That evening, Mingo and Zana sat on the bank again. The river was singing, and Zana’s light danced on the water. “The river can’t call for help,” Zana said quietly. “But it told us with its silence. I’m going to remember that: when nature goes quiet, we need to listen more closely. And when we all help together, it sings again.”

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