Leo - the little wanderer

Leo – the little wanderer
Tuula Pere • Virpi Nieminen
WickWick

Leo – the little wanderer, English translation
Story by Tuula Pere
Illustrations by Virpi Nieminen
Layout by Peter Stone
English translation by Päivi Vuoriaro
ISBN 978-952-325-081-9
Second Edition
Copyright © 2015 Wickwick Ltd
Published 2015 by Wickwick Ltd
Helsinki, Finland
Printed in European Union
Based on Leo – the little wanderer
Story by Tuula Pere
Illustrations by Virpi Nieminen
Layout by Peter Stone
English translation by Päivi Vuoriaro
Originally published in Finland by Wickwick Ltd in 2012
Finnish “Lauri – pikku matkamies”, ISBN 978-952-5878-60-8
English “Leo – the little wanderer”, ISBN 978-952-5878-61-5
Copyright © 2012 Wickwick Ltd
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted
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Leo – the little wanderer
Tuula Pere • Virpi Nieminen
W
ickWick
Children’s Books from the Heart
1

2

Leo loved to sit on the porch of his house every morning
and watch the familiar sceneries of his home
valley. Everything he saw was very dear to him.
His gaze followed the curving road that wound down
the slope. The road meandered among field patches,
curved around trees and ran across the river on a sturdy
stone bridge at the bottom of the valley.
There was no place like home, but Leo knew it was time
to explore the wide world. The wind had brought him
greetings from wonderful places.
3

Leo set off with a chequered backpack. Soon his home
valley was far behind, and the places he passed were
no longer familiar to him. Still, with the sun casting
light on his way and the wind whispering words of guidance
into his ear, Leo felt confident.
Leo had with him some food and a coin purse. He didn’t
have much money on him, but he thought he wouldn’t
be needing much anyway.
“If I treasure all the souvenirs in my heart, my backpack
will stay light to carry.”
The little wanderer arrived at a big railway station and
bought a ticket somewhere far.
4

5

The train had been tearing through new sceneries all day. Evening was drawing
in when he stepped out from the train with the other passengers. The station
platform was soon empty. Everyone hurried to their homes and hotels. Leo didn’t
know where to go.
Two more people descended from the last car, an old lady and a little girl. They
were carrying many heavy suitcases and had a big bouquet of flowers with them.
“Look, Grandma Maria. There’s a child sitting alone on that bench,” the girl said
wonderingly, tugging her Grandmother by the sleeve. “I wonder why he’s still at
the station at this hour.”
6

“It’s not easy to find a place to stay in a city at this hour. You should come to my
place for the night,” the lady kindly said to Leo.
The small girl peered shyly from behind her Grandmother’s back, holding the bouquet
in her hand.
“Oh, thank you, I do feel very tired,” Leo answered.
7

8

Maria’s home was warm and cosy. As soon as Leo lay down on the soft guest
bed, he fell asleep. Pictures of Maria’s family members on the walls watched
over his sleep. He slept well and late. In the morning, he found a piece of bread, a
glass of juice, a note and a key on the bedside table.
“Dear little guest of mine, Anna and I went to the market. Here’s the key to the
house,” Maria wrote. “You can take a look around the town and return whenever
you like. I’ll make us some delicious goulash soup for dinner.”
Leo had some breakfast and listened to birds chirping through an open window.
After having finished his meal, he closed the door behind him carefully and put
the key into his pocket. A new day in a new town awaited him.
9

The town was old. It had stood there for hundreds
of years. Gradually it had expanded and taken over
fields around it; it had grown louder and busier. Endless
streams of cars flowed along its wide streets.
But in the town centre, there was a hill circled by narrow
streets and houses lower than elsewhere. In the small
parks, people had time to sit about on the benches in
the shade of old trees. Leo walked along the cobblestone
streets and admired the windows of small shops. Over
there he saw a toy store, over there a baker’s shop and a
barber’s shop. A shoemaker was sitting by the window of
his workshop, hammering a new heel onto a shoe.
After having wandered the streets for quite a while, Leo
felt thirsty, and hunger churned in his tummy, too.
10

11

12

By the marketplace of the Old Town, there was a café right next to a blooming
cherry tree. A round-cheeked coffee shop keeper in an apron sat at a table in
front of the café.
She was writing on a large piece of paper, looking very serious.
Beside the table stood the barber from next-door with a comb and a pair of scissors
peeking from his pocket.
“You could finish it off by thanking our customers for the decades-long collaboration
and saying how sorry we are for having to shut down the café and the barber’s
shop,” the barber sighed, resigned.
“This is so hard,” the café-keeper lamented. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can
do to stop this from happening?”
Leo quietly walked up to them. He very well understood what was going on.
“Could you please be so kind and give me a haircut?” he asked the barber. “After
that I’d very much like to have a taste of those delicious-looking meringue pastries
I saw in the display case of the coffee shop.”
13

14

Whistling happily, the barber wrapped a towel
around Leo’s shoulders and trimmed his hair
with experienced moves. After the haircut, they enjoyed
a glass of juice together under a cherry tree outside the
coffee shop. Leo got to hear funny stories about the former
customers of the barbershop and the café.
However, both shops were in big trouble now. Customers
had abandoned them, and the business was no longer
profitable. Their income barely covered the rent, and
they could no longer afford any advertisements in the
local newspaper.
“Please, wait at least one week,” Leo begged the owners.
“I have a friend who will go around and spread the word
for you to everyone who has grown tired of the noise
and hustle of the big streets – and won’t charge you anything
for it.”
Leo said goodbye to the Old Town and waved to the
barber and the round lady. He had a feeling it wouldn’t
take more than a couple of days before people would
be lining up for the delicious pastries of the café by the
small marketplace, and happy whistling and the clatter
of scissors would be heard from the barber’s shop. This
friend of his was so good at delivering messages and
luring everyone who would listen. Leo was sure that his
kind friend, the wind, would be glad to help in such an
important matter.
15

In the evening, they enjoyed some hot soup at Maria’s
house. Leo thanked her warmly for the meal as well as
for letting him stay there for the night. He returned the
key to her.
“Didn’t it worry you to give the key of your home to me,
a perfect stranger?” Leo asked, wondering.
“But I do know you,” Maria replied. “I know that you are
a good boy and that I can trust you. You are welcome
back any time.”
Who knows, Leo might return one day, but tomorrow
it would be time to get back on the road. The wind was
already swirling restlessly on the roof of Maria’s house. It
still had many important things to show Leo.
16

17

18

Leo was afraid he’d arrive in the next town too late. The wind had told him
that the entire place was in danger of subsiding into the sea. Leo arrived at the
harbour, from where boats headed out to the sinking town. He wanted to make it
there in time.
The boy stood at the bow of the boat, looking out to the horizon. There it was, the
lovely blue town. It was filled with beautiful ancient buildings, towers, balconies
and bridges. Canals crisscrossed across the town.
There was water everywhere. It splashed onto the docks and street stones. A storm
had raised the water so much that even the grand piazza was partly flooded. On
the dry side, there were hundreds of alarmed pigeons flocking nervously.
The wind had been right: the magnificent houses of the town were falling into
decay and gradually sinking into the muddy water. This made Leo very sad. He sat
stock-still at the foot of an old statue. Leo understood that everything had its time
– so did these old buildings.
Luckily, the little wanderer was not too late. He would now have time to memorise
all the beauty around him. Even if he never returned here, these images would
always stay with him. Memories are like that.
19

20

The wind had told Leo about a long trail, which people had for centuries
wandered with backpacks and canes.
“Why don’t these wanderers travel by cars or trains?” Leo asked the wind.
“Then they would get much faster to the old church, which is the final destination.”
“It’s important not to lose one’s thoughts,” the wind replied. “On a silent journey
through nature one has the opportunity to think over things that require
time and peace.”
Leo wasn’t quite sure if he understood what the wind meant, but he decided
to join the pilgrims. After an exhausting, days-long journey, he sat down on a
rock and reached into his backpack for a sandwich.
“I think I understand now,” Leo thought and took a bite.
Strolling down the path, he felt very close to earth and the people he was travelling
with. The vast sky lay above them with its scents, bird songs and breaths
of wind. Even his simple sandwiches tasted delicious.
21

Days of hiking on the ancient trail were over. Leo had come to a square next to
an old church. Just as he was about to open the heavy wooden door, he felt a
warm breeze on his neck. His friend, the wind, had come by to check on the little
wanderer.
“Would you like to go in with me?” Leo asked the wind.
“Why not. But I must move carefully to not accidentally blow off the candles,” the
wind replied.
Dozens of burning candles illuminated the dimly lit church, and beautiful singing
echoed in the high arches. A choir was practising a performance on the balcony.
Leo lighted a candle and placed it in the stand next to the wall and thought about
his home and all of his friends. The wind had stopped behind his back, holding its
breath.
“I wonder how high this singing can reach,” Leo said.
“Notes are very light, you know. They are easy to carry,” the wind whispered. “I
often take music with me and carry it around the world, wherever I go. There are
always sensitive ears that are able to hear the singing carried by the wind.”
The wind looked happy. Leo understood. Many times he, too, had listened to the
music of the wind on the front steps of his house.
22

23

24

Leo was blinded by the bright daylight as he stepped back out to the sunny
square. On the edge of a fountain, he saw an old man sitting with his eyes
closed. Perhaps the sun was blinding him, too.
After having taken his time and wandered along the mazy streets of the town, Leo
returned to the fountain. The man was still sitting there in the same spot, with his
eyes closed.
“Are you all right?” Leo asked him gently.
“Oh, yes, I am, but thank you for asking,” the man replied in a kind tone. “This is a
good place for listening what people say. I have collected their stories for my entire
life and written dozens of books of them.”
“What kind of books are they?” Leo asked, fascinated.
“The kind that are filled with words but there are no full stops or commas in them
whatsoever,” the writer told him.
Leo was astounded. He had learned in school that there were a lot of rules in writing.
Commas and full stops were important, too.
“Listen to me, son,” the writer chuckled at Leo’s amazement. “What’s important is
to listen to what life has to teach you. People are full of words without any commas
or full stops between them. There is just thin air that can be filled with warmth or
coldness.”
Confused, Leo moved on. This was something he’d have to think over more carefully.
25

Leo had been resting in a small village by the sea for
a few days. It was fun to watch the daily routines of
the locals. He knew there were different customs, clothes
and languages in different countries, yet everything was
amazingly familiar.
Also in this village, people worked, went to school, tended
to their children, baked and grew flowers. Leo didn’t
understand the language they spoke, but it didn’t matter.
He was welcomed to join in the children’s plays, and a
lady with kind eyes waved him to come and sit at the
table to have a meal with her own children.
As the evening grew dark, the families gathered at the
docks. Someone started playing the accordion and one
by one, people joined in a wistful song. The melody
was familiar to Leo, too. After hesitating a moment, he
joined in the singing in his own language, and the people
sitting close to him nodded their heads approvingly.
They shared the language of music.
26

27

Leo had climbed up a fortress along a steep and curvy
road. He was exhausted, but the hike was well worth
it. From the top of the mountain opened a wonderful
view down to the valley and the town, which lay at the
foot of the mountain. The roofs of the houses made up a
funny quilt, which the shimmering river ran through.
The wind told Leo that centuries ago, a great warlord
had arrived from a foreign country. He had invaded
the town and had his army and horses march up to the
fortress at the top of the mountain. The local people had
lived in fear for several months. Finally, the warlord had
set out to conquer other lands and taken his army with
him. All this happened a very long time ago.
Leo pressed his ear against the stone wall and closed his
eyes. Maybe it was just his imagination, but far from the
past, he could still hear the clatter of the hooves and the
rhythmic steps of the soldiers’ boots.
The little wanderer wondered why the great warlord
had chosen to come just here. The journey from another
country must have been long and difficult. Perhaps in
the warlord’s own country there was no mountain as
beautiful as this, a mountain this close to the sky.
28

29

30

Leo started to feel a little homesick. He had seen so
much that he would need a long time to take it all
in. He decided to visit one more place that the wind had
told him about. He wanted to see a church that had never
been finished. The construction work had lasted for
more than one hundred years already, and there was no
end in sight.
The architect who had designed the building had a
dream so big that his strength and time had run out.
New builders and artists had taken over the work now.
Together they had accomplished a lot. The church was
reaching higher and higher, and new towers and ornaments
were being added to it. The building was extraordinary
– and still not finished.
31

32

Leo was in awe of the sight. Sunbeams hit a tower window of the unfinished
church and made it sparkle. Leo realised that the building was like life itself – a
big dream full of details and always in the making. Exactly the way it was supposed
to be.
Leo looked at a builder who was hammering nails into a casting mould.
“May I hammer one nail in?” Leo asked timidly.
“Why, of course,” the builder replied, smiling, and handed the hammer to the boy.
Leo concentrated carefully. The hammer was heavy and the nail was sharp. A couple
of hard blows, and the nail had sunk into the corner of the casting mould.
“Now I’ve taken part in building this church, too,” Leo sighed, content. “It’s time to
go home.”
33

34

After days of travelling, Leo was finally approaching
home.
A group of his friends had gathered to welcome him at
the station. The wind had travelled before him and told
them that the little wanderer was returning home. How
wonderful it felt to see them again! A joyous chatter
filled the station platform. It was as if a lively flock of
birds had fluttered there.
Leo stepped off the train and hugged his friends. Together
they walked up the hill to Leo’s house. The friends
had raked the garden, watered the flowers and set the
table with delicious food.
“I thank you all, it warms my heart to be wanted here,”
Leo said.
35

The homecoming party continued late into the
evening. Leo told his friends stories about his journey
and answered their fascinated questions. Eventually
the guests left to let Leo enjoy the sunset by himself.
The view turned into gold. The final breaths of wind
swirled around Leo until they, too, settled down to sleep.
Leo closed his eyes.
He had felt safe during his long journey, knowing all
along where he would one day return. Here was his
home, his home village around it, and the valley from
where roads and railways continued as endless branches
across the world.
Leo slept peacefully.
36

37

The wind whispers greetings from foreign lands
into Leo’s ear. Excited, the little wanderer sets off
for a long journey where he faces some bigger and
smaller wonders of life.
Leo meets kind people who are willing to lend
their hand even to a perfect stranger. Having
no common language is not a barrier. The human
mind is filled with similar joys and sorrows
everywhere. An old writer teaches Leo how important
it is to listen to life and the message carried
between words.
After the journey is over, the wanderer can peacefully
settle himself on the front steps of his home
to marvel the sun-gilded home valley and cherish
the memories saved in his heart.
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