Once upon a time there lived a beautiful girl named Christen. She loved to go to her father’s bird sanctuary. Whenever she went she would come back and say “what marvellous birds they are!” One day her father became very ill with the plague. Christen became worried, her mother had died when she was young and she became very connected to her father. She decided to try and get some medicine for her father in the next town.  She got on her horse, Shadow, and went to the gates. It was illegal to leave the town gates because of the plague so she had to sneak out to get the medicine for her father. She didn’t understand why there wasn’t a medicine shop in that town. She went to the gate and hid until dawn. Christen climbed over the gate and opened it from the other side. She climbed on to her horse and went in search of the pharmacy. After an hour of riding Christen began to feel scared that she wouldn’t get back in time. She was tired and her horse began to slow down. Another hour passed and Christen reached the town but the gate was locked. She sat down and began to cry next to a giant, stone wall. She looked up and saw a sweet, quite short lady looking at her. The lady wiped away Christen’s tears, gave her a handkerchief and walked away. Christen looked at the handkerchief, it said “you can do anything my dear”. Christen knew it was her mother, she got up and tried to open the gate. It opened with a creak.

She went in and she was quite scared. She looked around and saw the pharmacy in the distance. She climbed on Shadow and rode to the pharmacy. When she got there it was nearly sunrise she went in and got the medicine. She described her father’s symptoms and asked the pharmacist how long he had left to live. “I’m afraid he only has twenty-four hours” replied the lady behind the till. Christen was told to leave as they were closed. She sat outside leaning against a new, strong wall. As night fell she set off back to find her father’s house.

Her own town seemed strange at night. She had to go through dark and dangerous streets but she did it for her father. For about half an hour she roamed through the maze of cobblestone streets. “No wonder it’s called the dark quarter” she pondered. She was glad her horse did not get injured from all the broken street-lamps. She had to hurry if she was to get back in time to save her father. Christian rode as fast as she could. The sun was rising as she reached her father’s house. All of a sudden a deep growl echoed from the gloom. It spooked Shadow. Christen was thrown off her horse, banged her head on a rock and everything went black.

When she awoke she noticed she was in her bed. It was all a dream. She was so glad to see her father was okay. She also saw her mother standing there safe and sound. Every year they celebrate the night of her mother’s return.

Cotton is a soft fibre that grows from the seeds of the cotton plant. The fibre is long and thin, like hair. After the cotton fibre is gathered from the plant, it can be made into thread. The cotton thread can then be made into cloth. The cloth can be used to make clothes for people and many other things. Cotton clothing is very nice to wear, especially in hot weather, and is easy to move around in.
There are different types of cotton plants. Some cotton plants grow wild in tropical and subtropical areas of the world. This is how cotton was discovered many years ago. Most of the cotton gathered to make cloth comes from crops grown on cotton farms. Cotton farms can be found in Africa, Asia, Europe, Australia, and the Americas. All parts of cotton plants are useful.

Cotton is a natural fibre harvested from the cotton plant. Cotton is one of the oldest fibres with traces of cotton over 7,000 years old recovered from archaeological sites. Cotton is also one of the most used natural fibres in existence today, with people everywhere wearing and using cotton for various purposes. Millions of acres globally are used to produce cotton, whether it be new world cotton, with longer, smoother fibres, or the shorter and coarser old world varieties.

In our second Planet Money T-shirt podcast we hear the interesting story of a Brazilian cotton farmer called Pedro.

Planet Money is a joint project of National Public Radio (NPR) in the USA and This American Life, the Chicago weekly public radio show which focuses on coverage of the global economy.

Planet Money is making a very special t-shirt, unlike any other.  It’s a t-shirt that can tell you the story of its own creation.

Almost every single t-shirt out there is the result of a complicated global journey. We will follow NPR on that journey. We’ll research the people who grow the cotton, spin the yarn, and cut and sew the fabric. We have ordered a t-shirt and we will follow the cargo ships that bring our t-shirt from factories in Bangladesh and Colombia to ports in the USA and on to Ireland.  We’ll also examine the crazy tangle of international regulations which govern the t-shirt trade the whole way. Click the play button below to listen to our first t-shirt podcast.

From each end of the globe they came,
Ghosts and vampires of every name.
“She won’t be here” they all exclaim,
All afraid she’d play a good game.

“Start it up” said the ghosts in a terrible rush
“before she comes on that top-speed brush”.
No sooner than said they heard the loud whoosh
She flew over a pumpkin and turned it to mush.

“Ye started without me” she said with a cackle
“were ye hoping I wouldn’t be here for the tackle?”
Straight away she started to play
“that nasty old witch” you could hear them all say.

With a dip and a dive she gave the ref a high five
“It’s funny playing a game and not one player alive”,
“Just as well” said the ref
“They’d never survive”.

The witch took a kick; they thought it was wide
but according to squawkeye it was just inside.
The vampires took revenge and sent it in quick
and over the bar it went with a flick.

With a whoosh of the broom she lifted the ball
“not fair” said the ghosts “that was our call”
but the witch pretended not to see him at all
“don’t worry” said the ref “the score is one all”.

With a sprinkle of magic from that terrible stick
“Over the bar “said the witch and not even a kick.
The ghosts were all pale, “not another fail”
but the witch sent them spinning “I’m here for the winning”,
”off the post” said the ref, “it’s not over the line,”
“ok” said the witch but “the next one is mine”.

Once again that stick she pulled from her pocket,
“I dare any of you to try and block it”.
“He he” said the witch “that’s three to me”,
The ghosts just gave in and said “you’re so mean”,
said she “same time and place next year and I promise to play clean…..he he he”.

Once I went to a dinner party,
the host was a ghost,
but I only discovered that when he started to float.

I ran for the door, but it had disappeared, then a super sharp knife flew past my ear.
I ran and ran for my life,
then I discovered a witch was the ghost’s wife.

I ran again and started fallin’,
then I landed in a cauldron.
I got out, covered in gloop, then I turned into a bowl of soup.

I tottered away not knowing that,
I was being enjoyed by a cat!

By Joseph