The Mystery of the Floating Stones

Aarib was known throughout his village for asking too many questions.

"Why do stars twinkle?"
"Why don’t birds get tired while flying?"
"Why does cold water make my teeth hurt?"

The grown-ups often laughed or sighed, but his mother would always smile and say, “Aarib, if you keep asking questions, one day you’ll know everything!”

One summer afternoon, Aarib wandered down to the river that ran quietly along the edge of his village. The sun was high, the grass smelled sweet, and the river sparkled as if someone had scattered diamonds across its surface. Aarib liked coming here after school. It was his thinking place, where the water whispered secrets only curious ears could hear.

That day, something unusual caught his eye.

Across the bank, a boy from the neighboring village was skipping stones across the water. Aarib watched quietly from behind a tree. The boy was good at it—one, two, three skips before the stones sank. But then something strange happened. One of the stones didn’t skip—it just floated.

Aarib squinted. Was that really a stone?

He waited until the boy left and then rushed to the spot. The rocks near the edge looked ordinary—grey, rough, and small enough to hold in his palm. But when he picked one up and placed it on the water, it didn’t sink. It floated gently like a leaf.

Aarib’s eyes widened. “This is magic!” he shouted aloud, though no one was there to hear him.

He grabbed a few more and ran all the way home.

“Abba!” he said breathlessly. “I found a rock that floats!”

His father, a schoolteacher with a thoughtful face and kind eyes, looked up from his newspaper. “A floating rock? That’s not something you see every day. Let me see.”

Aarib showed him the stone and explained everything.

His father took the stone in his hand, turning it over slowly. “Hmm. This is interesting. It feels light. And see these holes? Almost like a sponge.”

“Do you think it’s magical?” Aarib asked.

His father smiled. “I think it’s a mystery. And mysteries are best solved with science.”

That evening, Aarib sat in the small study corner of their living room. It wasn’t big—just a shelf of books, some jars, a weighing scale, a magnifying glass, and a worn notebook his father had given him. But to Aarib, it was a laboratory.

He placed the strange stone on a plate and examined it closely. It was filled with tiny holes, felt rough to the touch, and was much lighter than other rocks. When he placed it in a bowl of water, it floated again—calmly and silently.

He picked three more stones from his backyard—smooth ones, shiny ones, heavy ones—and dropped them in. All of them sank.

“Only this one floats,” he whispered, scribbling notes in his notebook.

Curious to know more, he flipped through one of his science books until a page caught his eye: “Pumice: The Floating Rock”

Aarib read with wide eyes.

> Pumice is a type of volcanic rock formed when hot lava cools quickly with gas bubbles trapped inside. These bubbles make it very light, so light that it can float on water!



He jumped up and ran to his father. “Abba! It’s called pumice! It’s not magic—it’s science!”

His father nodded proudly. “Excellent work, Aarib. You observed, asked a question, experimented, and researched. That’s how real scientists work.”

The next day, Aarib asked his science teacher if he could share what he found. The teacher smiled and said yes.

That morning, Aarib stood in front of the class, holding the pumice in a clear bowl of water.

“This is a floating rock,” he began confidently. “It’s called pumice. It forms during volcanic eruptions when lava cools quickly and traps gases inside. That’s why it has so many holes—and why it floats instead of sinks.”

His classmates were amazed. “Rocks can float?!” they asked.

“Not all rocks,” Aarib explained. “Only ones like this, with lots of air inside. I found it near the river and figured it out by testing and reading.”

His teacher clapped. “Aarib just taught us something important—not just about rocks, but about how to learn. Curiosity and observation are the first steps to discovery.”

From that day on, the students began looking at the world more closely. Some started collecting rocks, others asked questions about trees, stars, and machines. Aarib’s discovery had lit a spark.

The following week, Aarib’s father gave him a small wooden box with a note inside:
“For your discoveries. Keep asking why.”

Aarib still visits the river with that box, always searching, always wondering.


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Moral: Curiosity is the root of all learning. Every question is the door to a new discovery.