THE WISH UPON HER STAR

(When Sarabeth was 7, she wrote this short story.)
October, 2013

Little Mary May loved every part of her family.
She loved the smell of food coming from the barbecue as her father cooked beef.
She loved the smell of flowers coming from the greenhouse as her mother tended the leaves.
Her house was small but it was the only way her house could fill up on smells.
And Mary May loved the smell of both.
Her cat, Ginger, lazed on the roof everyday she came home, but Mary never minded him until she placed his food outside.
Ginger liked to laze and pounce.
And Mary liked Ginger.
Somedays, Mary could not find Ginger at all and he didn’t come down for food.
But somedays, Ginger would be lying on the front porch and waiting for her to give him food.
And Mary liked that time best.
But although all those times were special to Mary, nothing was better but school.
Everyday she pranced home with her tiny backpack bouncing up and down.
Mary was too tiny to fit a decent backpack on her short little back.
But Mary hardly noticed her tiny size.
She skipped merrily into the kitchen, her school dress bouncing with air as she went to fetch Ginger’s bowl and his food.
Mary paid no attention to anything else, because she was a girl with very little chores to do.
When Mary’s mind was set on something, she would do it.
She filled up Ginger’s bowl and pranced back out, where Ginger had instinctively jumped down, suspecting Mary was giving him food.
And as he ate his food, Mary pranced back inside for homework.
The sad, rainy days made it fun for Mary to jump in puddles and slosh through the muddy grass field.
The steaming, summer days made it fun for Mary to spray her freezing cold water from her water bottle in her face, down her back, and on her ankles.
Cold, winter days made Mary pretend she was a snowman.
The basic cleverness of little Mary May was amazing.