Garbancito a personalized book with your child as the hero

Once upon a time there was a boy so small that when his mother set a chickpea beside him on the kitchen table, it came nearly up to his knees. His parents had wished for a child for many years, and when he came, they were not at all disappointed that he was tiny. They called him Garbancito, which means little chickpea, and they loved him with every bit of their large hearts.

Garbancito was small, but he was never shy. He wore a plain red tunic, cream trousers and soft brown shoes, and he carried his little cloth cap in his hand so that everyone could see his bright face. He climbed table legs, rode on the cat's tail when the cat allowed it, and slept in a walnut shell lined with wool.

One morning his mother said, "Garbancito, I need bread for supper. Could you carry this coin to the baker?" The coin was nearly as big as he was, but he hugged it and said, "Of course I can!"

Out he went along the village lane. The cobbles were as big as hills, and the daisies towered over him like trees. Big boots hurried past, and nobody looked down. So Garbancito did what he always did when he wanted to be found. He sang out in his clear little voice:

"I am Garbancito, no bigger than a seed, and I carry my coin wherever I need!"

The villagers stopped and bent down. "Why, there is a voice, and there is a boy!" said the baker's wife, and she stepped carefully aside. The baker took the coin and gave Garbancito a warm loaf, which two neighbours carried home for him.

Another day, his father said, "Garbancito, will you take this little parcel to our neighbour?" The boy rolled the parcel in a big green leaf, pushed it along the path, and left it on the neighbour's doorstep. Then he turned and waved both arms toward home, very proud, and sang his song again so that his parents would know he had done well.

On the way back, the sky turned grey. Plink! A drop fell, then another, and soon the rain came down in great shining beads, each one as big as his head. Garbancito looked around. In the garden patch stood a huge cabbage with a leaf as broad as a roof. He crept beneath it and sat down, dry and cosy, listening to the pattering above.

But a large ox was grazing in the patch, and he was hungry. He lowered his great head, opened his mouth, and ate the cabbage, leaf and all. Garbancito, who was sitting under the leaf, went along with it.

It was not at all frightening. Instead, Garbancito found himself in a round, softly glowing place, lined with green leaves and lit with golden light, like the inside of a lantern in a storybook. "Well," he said, "this is the strangest umbrella I have ever had." He sat on a soft leaf and waited, because he knew that his family would come.

At home, his mother and father looked everywhere. They checked the table, the walnut shell and the baker's shop. At last they ran into the field and stood beside the enormous ox, calling, "Garbancito! Garbancito, where are you?"

Then, from somewhere near the ox, a tiny voice began to sing:

"I am Garbancito, no bigger than a seed, and I am safe and sound, so don't you worry, indeed!"

"That is his song!" cried his mother. "He is inside the ox!" said his father, and they laughed and wept together. "Dear ox, please let our son come out," they said.

The ox only blinked, because he had no idea what to do. "Perhaps he needs a good meal," said the father, and he fetched armfuls of cabbages. The ox ate and ate until he was quite full and rather uncomfortable. Then he lifted his head, took a deep breath, and gave a great, harmless puff of wind, the biggest anyone in the village had ever heard.

Whoosh! Out flew Garbancito, tumbling through the air like a feather, and landed with a soft flump in a heap of golden straw, well away from the ox. He sat up, brushed a few pieces of straw from his tunic, and found his cap still in his hand. "That," he said, "was a very fine ride."

His mother scooped him up in her palm, and his father kissed the top of his head with a fingertip. They carried him home, and everyone in the village came to hear how he had been found.

That evening, there was a feast in the kitchen. Garbancito sat in a porcelain teacup, as comfortable as a king in a velvet chair, beside a chickpea and a warm loaf. He ate crumbs, drank a drop of warm milk, and sang his song once more. And everyone agreed that the smallest person in the village had the biggest courage of all.