The Fisherman and the Jinni a personalized book with your child as the hero

In the very first nights of the Thousand and One Nights, Shahrazad tells the tale of a poor old fisherman who found something very strange in his net. This is that tale, told for little ones.

Once upon a time, in a little town by the sea, there lived an old fisherman. He was poor, but he was honest, and he had a rule that he never broke: every day he cast his round net into the sea four times, no more and no fewer, and he took whatever the sea gave him.

One morning at dawn the fisherman rowed his little wooden boat out over the calm, pink water, and with him came his grandchild, who loved the sea more than anything. The fisherman stood up in the stern, swung the net round his head and threw it, and it spun open in the air like a flower and sank into the water.

When he pulled it up, it was heavy. But in it there was nothing but an old sandal, full of holes and dripping with water. The child held it up between finger and thumb and wrinkled their nose, and the fisherman laughed.

The second cast brought up a great tangle of seaweed. The third brought up a basket full of mud and broken shells. "One more cast," said the fisherman. "The last one is the sea's gift."

The fourth cast was so heavy that the two of them could hardly pull it into the boat. They rowed to the shore and spread the net on the sand, and there in the middle lay a jar made of brass, as big as a melon, closed at the top with a stopper of lead.

"Maybe it is full of gold," said the fisherman. He took out his knife, and carefully, carefully he worked the lead stopper loose, and pulled it out.

Nothing happened. Then a thin curl of smoke came out of the jar. Then more smoke, and more, blue and green and swirling, rising up and up over the beach until it hid the sun. And the smoke gathered itself together into a jinni, as tall as a tower, with a great curling beard and bushy eyebrows, stretching his arms and rubbing his sleepy eyes.

The fisherman fell back onto the sand. The child stared up, mouth wide open.

"Who let me out?" boomed the jinni, and his voice rolled over the sea like thunder. "Hundreds of years ago I was shut in that jar and thrown into the sea. For the first hundred years I promised that whoever freed me would be rich for ever. Nobody came. For the next hundred years I promised that whoever freed me would have every wish granted. Nobody came. So then I grew cross, and I swore that whoever let me out would feel my anger!"

The fisherman trembled from his cap to his toes. But his grandchild stood up straight, looked at the great jinni and at the little jar, and thought very, very fast.

"Wait," said the child. "There is one thing I don't understand. You are so big. Your head touches the clouds. You could never have fitted inside that little jar. I don't believe it."

"You don't believe it?" roared the jinni. "Me? I fitted in there for hundreds of years! Watch!"

And the jinni began to spin, and to shrink, and turned back into smoke, and the smoke swirled down and down into the brass jar until the very last wisp had slipped inside. Quick as a wink, the child picked up the lead stopper and pushed it back on, tight.

"Let me out! Let me out!" came a small, muffled voice from inside the jar. "I was only joking! I promise I will be kind. I will be kind for ever, and I will make you rich!"

The fisherman and the child looked at each other. "Do you promise?" asked the child. "Truly?"

"I promise," said the little voice. So the child pulled out the stopper, and the jinni rose up out of the jar again, but this time he was smiling.

"Bring your net," said the jinni, "and follow me." He led them over the hills behind the town, through a valley, to a hidden lake among the mountains that no fisherman had ever seen. And in the clear water swam fish of four colours: white fish, red fish, blue fish and yellow fish.

"Cast your net once," said the jinni, "and take the fish to the sultan." The fisherman cast his net, and it came up with four fish, one of each colour. Then the jinni waved a smoky hand, and melted away into the clouds.

The fisherman and his grandchild carried the four fish in a brass basin to the sultan's palace. The sultan had never seen such fish in all his life, and he was so delighted that he gave the fisherman a whole purse of gold coins.

From that day on the old fisherman never had to worry about money again. He still went out in his boat every morning, and he still cast his net four times a day, because he loved the sea. But he always said that the best thing he ever pulled out of the water was not the jar, nor the four-coloured fish, but the clever question his grandchild asked the jinni.