A Measure of Thanks #10

“Oh, good,” said Molly, stretching and looking out the large window. “It’s going to be a sunny day—and probably warm!”

“That’s good for the guys,” laughed Amanda as she sat up in bed. “‘Cause they’re gonna get wet!”

“Think we should call everyone and make sure they’re up?” Molly asked anxiously. “They have to be at the booth by nine!”

The Chef Girls and the Volunteers Club were pretty organized, but there was still a lot to do. Around eight AM, the twins and their parents arrived at the park, where Karen was already setting up the booth.

By ten o’clock, the bright sunshine had taken the autumn chill from the air. Prospect Park looked beautiful, with the red and orange leaves bursting on the trees. And the fair, set in the Long Meadow, looked amazing! Bright tents were everywhere. Clowns were putting on their makeup. Artists were displaying their crafts. Dozens of people hauled tables, wagons of baked goods, barrels, and bales of hay to various booths.

“Our booth looks awesome,” said Molly proudly. “It should,” said Shawn as she began to tack up a sign listing the prices of all the items for sale. “We sure spent enough time on it!”

“Especially you,” Molly told Shawn, grinning. “I love those felt autumn leaves you made for the awning. You’re so artistic!”

“Look, there’s Peichi with Mr. Cheng. They’re bringing the apple cider. And there’s Drew,” announced Elizabeth.

“I hope Freddie will get here soon with the pies,” fretted Natasha as she arranged her mom’s little

Just then, a familiar voice called, “Hey there, ladies! The pie man has arrived!”

Carmen waved with her free arm. She was carrying a basket of pies. Freddie smiled and made a funny face at the girls as he carried a box.

“Here are ten apple pies,” said Carmen. “And we have ten pumpkin pies back at the car.”

“I think we can get ten dollars each for these!” cried Amanda. “You’re the best!”

“Check it out! It’s Rachel and her pony!” cried Peichi. “So cute!” Everyone turned around to look at Rachel, who was riding Misty. The Chef Girls gathered around Misty and stroked her forehead. She was small and dappled and perfectly gentle.

“A whole bunch of little kids saw me riding her from the stable,” said Rachel excitedly. “I told their parents what we were doing at our booth, and they’re heading over as soon as the fair opens at eleven o’clock! Hey, look—they’re delivering the dunk tank!”

The weather grew even more beautiful as the day went on, which brought more and more people into the park.

By eleven-thirty, the fair was jamming. Omar, Connor, and Justin had shown up right on time.

“Hi, Molly!” said Justin brightly. “I brought my camera. I thought I’d take some pictures for The Post when I’m not getting dunked!”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” said Molly. “Um, maybe Natasha and I will write an article together.”

“Sounds good,” said Natasha, who was helping Shawn put up a sign advertising the dunk tank.

Amanda watched Justin closely, trying to read him to see if he liked her or not—or if he was still interested in Molly. But the truth was that, in front of his buddies, Justin pretty much ignored both of the twins.

As the boys helped set up the tank, a line soon formed with kids wanting to see the boys get dunked.

It didn’t take long for someone to throw the ball right at the target, and down Omar splashed—making everyone laugh and yell.

When the little kids were bored with watching the boys make funny faces as they waited to be dunked, they went to Shawn’s corner of the booth, where she was painting children’s faces for a dollar.

“Oh, she looks so cute! cooed Peichi, as a little four-year-old girl saw herself in Shawn’s mirror and squealed happily.

Omar heard her. “Oh, she looks so-o-o cu-u-u-te!” he said in a high voice, imitating her. which made Connor and Justin snicker. Peichi just rolled her eyes and called out to the crowd, “Get your fresh pies and holiday breads here! Freeze em for the holidays! They’re going fast!”

“Look, Mom!” cried Natasha. “I couldn’t wait till you got here—see? Your paintings are selling! We’ve sold three Eiffel Towers and two Paris street scenes!”

Mrs. Ross gasped. “I—I can’t believe it!” she said, amazed. “People are buying something I made!”

Mrs. Ross’s voice softened as she looked tenderly at Natasha, saying, “Thanks, honey. But it was your idea.” She quickly walked out of the booth, saying, “I have a few more at home—and I’m going to get them!”

The booth got busier and busier. For a while, the girls just saw a blur of new faces and green bills.

“Hey, the cranberry bread’s all gone,” announced Natasha happily. The Chef Girls had made eight loaves, and Mrs. Ross had made six.

“The spanakopita is going fast,” added Peichi, “and the walnut spice cake is long gone. We’ll have to tell Athena how popular it was!” She giggled. “I bought some to take home tonight.”

“Okay, my cookies are officially sold out,” said Elizabeth half an hour later, as she handed Karen the money from her last sale. “I can’t wait to see how much money we made today!

“I can’t believe it!” cried Molly. She’d left her post taking money at the dunk tank to check on her bottled pesto. “My pesto sold out! I made twelve jars and they’re all gone! Wow!

This could really be something, Molly thought excitedly. People want this stuff! I could sell if around Park Terrace at the little delis and gourmet shops, and give all the money to America’s Second Harvest! Wow—this will be so cool! Oh—I want to do this more than anything. I’ve got to.

She looked around the booth, practically bursting with her news. She was dying to tell her friends!

I can ’t bring this up right now, she thought. We’re just too busy. It’s not the right time.

But amid the chaos of the booth, Molly’s heart slowly sank as reality set in. She wondered how she’d find the time to bottle her pesto sauce, sell it, keep up with her homework, cook for Dish, report for The Post, practice the piano, and be a better softball player next Spring.

“That’ll be eight dollars,” she heard herself saying to a teenage girl. “Thank you! Two dollars is your change...”

What can I give up? I think I’m going to have to make a really big decision. The hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my whole life.

By five-thirty the sun was setting, and there was a chill in the air that reminded everyone that summer was over. People were drifting home, and the booth finally quieted down. Rachel left to take Misty back to the stable, the boys said good-bye, and only one of Mrs. Ross’s paintings remained.

“Yay! We get to count the money now!” cried Peichi, as she watched Karen open the lockbox where everyone had been storing the money.

Fifteen minutes later. Karen looked up and announced proudly, “Five hundred and sixty-eight dollars for America’s Second Harvest!”

“Wow! All our hard work really paid off!” cried Molly. She sat down, suddenly aware of how much her legs ached from standing all day. But she still felt great!

The next night. Peichi smiled into the lens of the digital video camera that she’d attached to a tripod.

“Hello, Baby Cheng!” she said. “This is your big sister Peichi! And this is the very first installment of the movie I’m making for you while we’re all waiting for you to be born! It’s a Sunday night, and”—Peichi began to giggle—“we had salmon for dinner, and now I’m going to interview our mommy...ready, Mom?”

“Ready,” replied Mrs. Cheng, smoothing down her shiny black chin-length hair. She was seated on an upholstered bench in the living room.

“Now,” said Peichi, beginning her interview as she looked through the viewfinder. “How many more months until the baby is born? How are you feeling? Do you want the baby to be a boy or a girl?”

Mrs. Cheng chuckled. “Your dad and I don’t care if the baby is a boy or a girl. And I’m feeling fine! Just a little tired sometimes. Of course I’m getting a little bigger every week, it seems! The baby is due in just over five months. We can’t wait until the baby gets here, but we still have a lot to do to get ready.”

Peichi looked into the lens again. “We still have to name you, Baby! It’ll be a very special name chosen just for you! My name means ‘precious jade’ in Chinese!”

Peichi pointed the lens at her mom again. “And now, starting tonight. Mom and I are going to read something beautiful before we go to sleep, because that’s a Chinese custom, right, Mom?”

“That’s right,” said Mrs. Cheng. smiling. “According to Chinese tradition, what affects the mother’s mind will also affect her heart and her connection with her unborn child. So, many Chinese women read beautiful stories before going to sleep.”

“We’re signing off for now,” said Peichi to the camera. “Enjoy the story! Byeeee!”

“Let’s pick out a poem,” suggested Mrs. Cheng, looking at the tall bookcase for a volume of poetry. “This is a nice tradition of our own, Peichi. I love it that we’ll do this together every night.”

Peichi snuggled up to her mom. “Me, too...Mom? Is it bad if I say that I’ll kind of—miss, you know, just being together with you and Dad? Just the three of us, I mean...

Mrs. Cheng stroked Peichi’s hair. “No, it isn’t,” she said softly. “It is nice being the only child. But wait and see—I think you’ll find that once the baby is here, it’ll be such a part of us that you won’t miss being just the three of us’ so much.”

“Okay,” said Peichi, opening the book. “Anyway, we can make the most of it for the next five months, right. Mom? How. which poem should we read?”