There’s a lot going on in Tony Seidl’s third-grade classroom at Greenvale Park Elementary.

Whether learning the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic or learning about nature, weather and energy, the classroom is almost always full of activity, energy and excited chatter.

But on one day before winter break the students were unusually quiet.

Seidl introduces the class to his friend, artist Dawn Erickson, and explains that one of Erickson’s specialties is the art of origami, the ancient Japanese art of folding paper into sculptures. He passes out colorful squares of paper, cut from old National Geographic magazines, and tells the students they are going to learn how to fold cranes, and not just a few cranes, but 1,000. 

 “A thousand?” several kids ask. A buzz of interest replaces the quiet of a few moments before.

Yes, a thousand, Seidl replies. Some students appear excited, others, skeptical. But Seidl has faith in his students and their ability to persevere.

“It’s going to be easy,” he assures them. And they get to work.

This is the third year Seidl has done this project with his students. He got the idea after reading a story about Sadako Sasaki, a 12-year-old Japanese girl who got lukemia as a result of Hiroshima.

The story, told in the book Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr, tells of how Sadako’s friend helped her make origami cranes and in keeping with a legend that a person who makes 1,000 cranes is granted a wish. Sadako’s wish was to get better. Sadly, she didn't, but Sadako’s friends continued making cranes in her memory and gathered money to build a memorial in her honor.

Back in the classroom, Erickson tells the students the story of Sadako as she demonstrates how to fold a crane. There are more than 20 steps to each crane and the students concentrate hard on their folds as they listen to directions.

Soon, tiny cranes evolve from squares of paper and the class is abuzz with excitement, yet the enthusiasm is punctuated with a few groans of frustration. More than one crane gets tossed into the trash. One girl sheds a few years, though the kids press on. 

The thousand cranes class project, says Seidl, “is a great way to channel energy and it is also a challenge the kids really don’t think is possible ... but they do it!”

Now, weeks into their project and back to school after break, the students have completed several hundred cranes. While their thousand crane goal is in sight—they hope to be done by the end of January—it’s time to start thinking about a class wish.

The students consider several options and settle on one: “We wish the world would conserve water.” 

At first glance, it’s a big wish for a group of third-graders, a wish that seems impossible.

But, like folding a 1,000 origami cranes, conserving water can be broken down into smaller steps. And with each crane they make, Seidl’s students are learning that even they can take small steps to change the world.