When the primaries had walked into class last Sabbath, their eyes had opened wide in surprise. Ms. Kimoto was dressed in a long., beautiful, red gown with a fancy design embroidered all over it.
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Ms. Kimoto waved her hands. “Class, class!” The hubbub quieted a little. Kenya clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing. “Are you all ready? Does everyone know what to do?” She looked around. “Good. Then let’s go quietly upstairs.”
Susannah May Farmer flopped on her bed and read her letter again. Mac Evans had sent pictures of herself, Joseph, all their friends, and G. M. Susannah thought that was a funny thing to call a grandma. But then, it seemed G. M. was a funny grandma.
Michael Arthur Patterson opened a refrigerated case in his family’s florist shop, Lilies of the Field, and breathed in the rich, scented air. The cases were filled with roses, baby’s breath, daisies, violets . . . practically every flower you could imagine.
Kenya Jayne Washington grabbed the bouncing basketball out from under her brother Morgan’s reaching hands, jumped as high as she could, and—swish!—the ball slipped right through the net. Kenya shrieked with glee.
Solomon Nassim El-Charif stood at the window of his new bedroom and looked out at the muddy mess that would eventually be the front yard.
“Come on, there’s nobody coming!” Lisa said. Her bike streaked across the street, followed closely by Mali’s. “Come on!” they yelled, laughing. Kenya rolled forward. There was still no traffic. It would probably be safe. Then she put her foot back on the pavement. This, she knew, was just the sort of thing Mom and Daddy feared. Peer pressure!
Michael Arthur Patterson tipped his head and concentrated as he ran his fingertips slowly along the raised dots on his paper. He went to a special school for the blind, and he was practicing reading Braille.
It was almost time for Primary class to begin, and the kids were gathered in the hall, talking. Two girls were whispering behind their hands about the new family. “Well, I think she looks stuck-up,” one said, looking sideways at the older girl who was walking down the hallway toward the earliteen class.
Kenya Jayne Washington gazed eagerly out the car window. “I see it! I see it! It’s just like a castle! I wonder when it will be finished.”
