Inside the head of a young schoolboy named Tommy, it was as bustling as the busiest city in the world. This city was known to all as Brainville. Instead of cars, swift thoughts raced along shimmering pathways, and instead of houses, it was home to billions of diligent inhabitants – nerve cells. One of them was Syno, a small but very curious neuron. His job was to help Tommy with numbers.
Just today, Syno had a great challenge ahead of him. Tommy was learning his multiplication tables at school, and an equation shone on the blackboard: 3 x 4.
“Message incoming!” flashed a light in Syno’s center. “Prepare to send!”
Syno took a deep breath, tensed all his tendrils, and sent the message on its way. It was an electrical impulse, a tiny, swift messenger. It had to fly across a narrow gap, known technically as a synapse, and deliver the message to the next neuron.
But… something strange happened. The impulse shot out, but it seemed to weaken along the way. By the time it reached the other side, it was so faint it could barely be understood.
Confusion arose in Tommy’s head. “Three times four is… is… seventeen?” he mumbled uncertainly.
“Oh no!” Syno despaired. “That’s wrong! Why can’t anyone hear me?” He felt like a postman who had lost all his letters.
His best friend, Dendri, appeared beside him. She was a clever nerve cell with many thin arms called dendrites. Her job was to receive messages.
“Syno, that signal was like a whisper in the wind,” she told him sympathetically. “I tried to catch it, but it was very weak. The path between us is still so… untrodden.”
“An untrodden path?” Syno wondered. “What does that mean?”
Dendri shrugged with her tendrils. “You know what? Let’s go see Mr. Flow. He is the oldest and wisest axon in all of Brainville. His long arm carries messages over great distances. He will surely be able to help us.”
Mr. Flow was indeed long and looked very wise. When Syno and Dendri told him of their troubles, he simply smiled.
“Ah, my young ones, this is perfectly normal,” his deep voice rumbled. “Imagine you want to cross a meadow full of tall grass. The first time, you have to painstakingly push your way through. You only leave a faint trail behind you.”
Syno and Dendri listened intently.
“But what happens when you walk that same path ten times? And then a hundred times?” asked Mr. Flow.
“The path will become clearer and clearer!” Syno blurted out. “The grass gets trampled down, and a proper walkway is formed!”
“Exactly!” Mr. Flow nodded. “And it’s the very same with learning. Every repetition is like walking that same path one more time. You strengthen the connection between you. Tommy is learning his multiplication tables for the first time, so for now, your path is just a faint trail in the grass. It won’t help if you shout louder. You just have to walk it more often.”
Syno understood. They had to turn that trail in the grass into a highway!
Just then, another attempt came. At home, Tommy sat down with his notebook and repeated aloud: “Three times four is twelve.”
“Here it comes again!” Dendri cried out. “Get ready, Syno!”
Syno sent the impulse again. This time, it flew along the same route. And indeed! The path felt a tiny bit firmer, and the signal was a little clearer. But it still faded a bit on the other side.
“Three times four is… twelve?” Tommy whispered, still unsure of himself.
“It’s better, but it’s not enough,” Syno concluded. He looked at Mr. Flow, who was nodding encouragingly.
A moment later, Tommy picked up his pen and started writing the equation in his notebook.
3 x 4 = 12
3 x 4 = 12
3 x 4 = 12
With every written line, another impulse, and another, flew between Syno and Dendri. The path between them was changing right before their eyes. The faint trail in the grass grew stronger, wider, and finally became a solid, radiant bridge.
“Now!” Syno exclaimed, and sent the next signal with joy and confidence.
The impulse shot across the new bridge like lightning. It was strong, clear, and perfectly understandable.
“THREE TIMES FOUR IS TWELVE!”
In class the next day, the teacher pointed at Tommy. “Tommy, what is three times four?”
Tommy didn’t hesitate for a second. Inside his Brainville, a beautiful, solid highway was already waiting. Syno sent a signal that reached its destination instantly.
“Twelve!” Tommy blurted out confidently and smiled.
Syno, Dendri, and Mr. Flow looked at their creation. At the radiant bridge they had built together. It wasn’t about magic or chance. It was about patience and repetition.
“We did it!” Syno rejoiced. “Learning is really just building bridges!”
Mr. Flow smiled with satisfaction. “That’s right, Syno. And every day, you can build a new one.”
And what about you, children? What beautiful and sturdy path will you build in your own Brainville today? Maybe a path for a new letter, for an English word, or for riding a bike. All it takes is practice, and your wise neurons will know just what to do.