Standing at his window, he could see the beautiful red stable that housed his family’s Arabian horses, with its perfect fenced riding ring. He could also see, through the trees, part of the Farmers’ old barn and house next door.
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Michael Arthur Patterson carefully wrapped silver tissue paper around the 12 red roses in the long white box. He couldn’t see the red or the silver or the white, but he could smell the roses, feel the crinkly texture of the paper, and feel the weight of the box as he carefully handed it to the customer.
At lunch recess, Kenya played kickball with the older kids. She was having a lot of fun until she saw three sad little faces on the sidelines. “Time out!” she called and went to talk to Solly, who was pitching.
Susannah watched the woman for a moment. Her face was red, and she was sweating. Still holding the boys’ hands, Susannah went over to the bench and asked, “Are you all right, ma’am?”
Susannah flopped over on her back and chewed on her pencil for a while. She didn’t feel as happy as she wanted Mac to think she did. Even though she had felt better after talking to Solly about promises the other day, she still felt sad and angry when she thought about her dad missing her birthday—again!
Solomon Nassim El-charif hung his head as he stood by his schoolteacher’s desk. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harold. My project is practically finished. But my horse got sick, and I had to spend extra time with him. May I please bring it in tomorrow instead?”
Susannah May Farmer looked around the big auditorium for her friends. There was such a large crowd there for the concert that it was hard to see anyone she knew.
When they finally found the treasure chest, it was almost as exciting as if it contained gold and jewels.
Michael Arthur Patterson had a whole herd of kangaroos jumping around his insides. The Primary friends had done so well with their program in the city park a few weeks earlier that they had decided to do it again.
