When I went out to play

I heard near the ground

A swishing-like sound

What I thought was just rain

Was, of all things, a brain!

It looked like a lump of gray smoke.

But then it surprised me-and spoke!

"Hello, little girl, I'm a brain,

Out here in the rain.

Manfred's my name, for short it's just Fred,

And I've just lost my head."

"My name is Lucy," I said.

I didn't know what else to say.

He looked so sad, wrinkled, and gray,

I wanted to give him a cuddle.

When I offered my hand,

He managed to stand

And I helped him get out of the puddle.

"If I don't find my head,

Soon I'll be dead," Fred said,

So we went off in search of Fred's head.

We talked as we walked. Soon I asked from my heart,

"Fred, could you please . . . please make me smart?"

"My dear little girl,

With one little curl,"

Said Fred with a start,

"You're already smart!"

"But how can that be?"

I asked, honestly,

"If try as I might,

I never get anything right?"

"We're all smart," Fred said.

"We just need to find out at what.

I'll explain. Listen up!

"A long time ago, before there were rules,

Being different was awesome and cool.

All brains liked to play

And day after day

Each brain found its own special way.

Then a brain named Inane yelled, 'Hey! Wait!

I am going to create

A word for what's best,

So some brains can rule all the rest.

Let's make up a test!'

"When the young brains objected,

This one brain infected

The rest with a word

They should have rejected.

'Smart! That's what is best in a brain!

Now let me explain:

If you think like me,

Then smart you will be . . .

But if you do not,

You'll be dumb as a mop,

And never will rise to the top.'

The brains were confused.

Smart was a word they had never used.

But Inane just persisted,

'You cannot resist it!

The future insists it!

Be smart-or you'll miss it!

"For years, all bowed down.

Till one day a brave brain named Tru

Said, 'Inane, I'm tired of you!

You never do anything new.

No brain is the best!

You are just an old pest.'

Tru then told the others that day,

'Forget all Inane has to say!

Each brain has its own special way.

Some can grow roses,

While others draw noses . . .'

Inane got so mad he could pop!

And he angrily barked, 'Oh, please, stop!

We all know that smart is on top!'

"'But what does smart mean?'

Tru asked with a wink.

'It really means less than you think.

What matters is finding your groove.

Some brains can sing, some skate in a ring,

While others find spelling a cinch.

All brains have some talents,

And no brain does everything well.

'So smart doesn't matter?'

Gasped one brain, wide-eyed,

Who usually just tried to hide.

Tru then replied,

'We're all smart inside.

We just need to find out at what.

What we each need to do

As we grow, me and you,

Is find something we like to do well.

"'Find something you like,

Like riding a bike,

Or bowling a strike,

And have fun with your brain every day.

Brains do best when they play,

Or learn something new.

That's what we brains love to do.'

Tru then told Inane,

As he tried to complain,

'Be quiet. Your reign is now ended,

You only pretended

That one way was best

So you could be bossy

And rule all the rest.'

The brain in the rain then smiled up at me,

And said, "Thank you for bringing me home, Lucy.

Remember the words of the brain named Tru,

And your brain will help in all that you do."

The sight of him climbing back into his head

Was the last that I saw of Manfred, called Fred.

Ned--Was the last time I saw my friend Fred?

But he said just once more,

As he dipped out of sight,

"No brains is the same,

No brain is the best,

Each brain finds its own special way."