Ela and the Sharing Garden

The iron gate creaked. Ela let go of Grandma's hand and took one step inside.

The smell of wet soil filled her nose. The leaves shone in the morning sun. A sparrow hopped along the top of the fence, then flew away.

"Whose garden is this, Grandma?" asked Ela.

"It belongs to the whole street," said Grandma. "Everyone plants a little patch. Everyone helps look after it."

Ela walked along the narrow dirt paths. The tomato plants were tied to tall sticks. Some tomatoes were red, and some were still green. Bean plants climbed up a string. Squash leaves spread open like umbrellas.

A snail sat under one of the leaves. Ela bent down to look at it. Slowly, the snail pulled its feelers back in. Ela held her breath and waited. After a while, the feelers came out again.

In the middle of the garden there was a green faucet. Next to it stood a big gray bucket. A drop fell from the faucet and made a tiny mark in the soil.

Names were written on a board by the gate. Next to each name was a picture of a vegetable. Ela couldn't read the letters yet, but she knew the pictures. A carrot, a pepper, a lettuce.

"Where is our name?" she asked.

"Not there yet," said Grandma. "First we pick a spot."

Grandma sat down on the wooden bench. She took her flask out of her bag. Ela tried out the corners one by one.

The first corner was under the mulberry tree. It was cool there, but dark. Squashed mulberries lay on the ground, and they stuck to her shoes.

In the second corner there was a great big rock. Ela pushed the rock. It didn't move at all.

The third corner was right by the faucet. The soil there had turned to mud. Ela's shoe sank in, and when she pulled it out, it went squelch.

Then Ela came to the bottom of the fence. The sun shone right on that spot. The soil was dry and warm. Ela pressed her palms on the soil. Her palms grew warm.

"Grandma, this one is the best!"

Grandma took a sip of her tea. "A seed needs three things," she said. "Soil, water and sun."

Ela held up her fingers and counted. "There's soil. There's sun." Then she turned her head and looked at the faucet. The faucet was all the way at the other end of the garden. Ela shrugged. "We'll find water too," she said.

Ela took her little red shovel out of her pocket. She drew a long line in the soil. Then she drew another line. Then two more lines. A small square appeared by the fence.

"This is mine," said Ela.

She set a stone at each corner of the square. One stone, two stones, three stones, four stones. The stones were white and smooth. Ela had picked each one from the side of the path.

The sound of a ball came from the other side of the fence. Children were shouting and laughing. Suddenly a red ball flew over the fence. It landed right in Ela's square. One of the stones rolled away. One end of the line was rubbed out.

Ela grabbed the ball at once. She threw it back over the fence.

"Thank you!" a child called out.

Ela didn't answer. She put the stone back in its place. She drew the line again with her finger. Now the line was deeper.

Grandma watched from her bench. She came over and crouched down at the edge of the square.

"You picked a lovely spot," she said. "Lots of sun."

Ela nodded. She straightened the stones one more time.

Then she dug inside the square with her shovel. She broke up the soil and picked out the little pebbles. She found an old button. The button was blue, with four holes in the middle. Ela put the button in her pocket. Now the soil in the square was soft and crumbly.

When the sun was high in the sky, Grandma closed her flask. "Come on, Ela, it's time for lunch."

Ela took one last look at her square. All four stones were in place. The line was in place too.

The iron gate creaked again. On the walk home, Ela lifted her palms to her nose. They still smelled of soil.

In the evening, Ela sat by the window. Down below, she could see the garden on the corner of the street. The bottom of the fence was in shadow now. A crow landed in the mulberry tree. Then the crow flew off too.

Grandma came over to her. She was holding a small tin box. On its lid was a faded picture of a flower. She held the tin out to Ela. The tin went rattle, rattle.

"You can open it tomorrow," said Grandma. "In the garden."

Ela held the tin with both hands. She lifted it to her ear and shook it. Rattle, rattle. Something small and hard was inside.

She put the tin at the edge of her pillow. She drew the curtain halfway. One by one, the streetlights came on. Ela counted their yellow lights, and then she stopped counting.