What Do You Do With an Idea?

By Kobi Yamada

A child has a brand-new idea, drawn as a golden egg with a crown and skinny little legs, and has to choose whether to hide it or feed it until it grows big enough to change everything.

A child has an idea. It turns up out of nowhere — a strange little thing with a gold crown and two skinny legs — and the child has no clue what to make of it. Where did it come from? Why me? At first the child walks away and pretends it isn't there. It feels a little embarrassing to be seen with, and when other people notice it, they frown and say it's silly, it'll never work, it's a waste of time. But the idea keeps tagging along. Bit by bit the child starts to feed it, play with it, and build it a place to stay. The more attention it gets, the bigger and brighter it grows, until one day it cracks wide open and spreads across the whole sky. The child ends up seeing the world differently, and so does everyone who told them to give it up.

The whole book rides on one plain thing a young child can hold onto: the idea only survives because someone decides to take care of it, even when other people shrug. That works for a six-year-old on your lap, and it works just as well for the grown-up reading it out loud, which is why so many people buy it as a gift. It gets handed to graduates, to teachers, to the coach who once said keep going. The words stay short and the feeling stays big, so it does the job whether you're reassuring a worried child about their own big plan or thanking someone who did that for you a long time ago.