Dear Mrs. Giant,
Thank you for giving me a hot meal the other night. I know I gave you a start at first, I'm sorry. I didn't
think Giants existed before either, so I was taken aback myself. I had no idea there was a whole another world so far above ours. For we live down below, you see, on the earth. Most of us don't have castles either I'm afraid. And unlike Mr. Giant we don't eat a meal of a dozen cows or so because we are each smaller than one full grown cow. I'm writing to you to ask you another favor. I'd like to borrow some of your planting seeds: pumpkin, cabbage, tomatoes and the like.
You see, our land has had a famine for quiet some time. We are so very small that what you eat in
one meal for two people would feed our whole town for a week. The way your bean seeds took to our soil makes me think that I can grow some more super-sized produce and save the whole village, maybe several villages. And of course, it will be easy to return as many seeds as I take from the crop I produce.
I'm not sure what started our famine here. We used to be such a happy people. Every night we'd gather in the square to tell stories, sing songs, dance. It was wonderful. People knew us as the town with the saddest songs and the happiest stories. We had a golden harp painted on every door. When the land stopped producing we stopped singing. Though some say it was the other way around. Others blame the disappearance of our jolliest children, mostly boys.
A small sack of seeds is all I'm asking, and I can come when Mr. Giant is asleep. Please send your reply by this same carrier pigeon. He is very tame and will not bite you. I hope you can read this for I've written as large as I can.