The Biggest Puddle in the Park
Rain tapped on Ada's window, soft and steady, like tiny fingers drumming. She pressed her nose to the glass and grinned. A drizzly morning meant only one thing to Ada: puddle-hunting weather had finally arrived.
"Yellow raincoat, red boots, and you," Ada told Pickle, tugging her coat over her pajamas. Pickle spun in circles by the door, tail thumping. "Today," Ada announced, "we find the biggest puddle in the whole entire park."
Sam grabbed the big striped umbrella from behind the door. "I'm coming too," he said, "somebody has to keep the rain off." Ada rolled her eyes but smiled. Three explorers, one mission, out into the wet morning.
The park path glistened silver under the clouds. Pickle sniffed at every puddle they passed, but Ada shook her head at each one. Too small. Too shallow. Somewhere out there waited a puddle worth splashing.
Then Ada gasped. Around the bend spread a puddle the size of a lake, rippling under the drizzle. "That's it!" she shouted, already running, boots slapping the wet gravel path.
SPLASH! Ada jumped in with both feet, water spraying up like fireworks. Pickle leaped after her, barking with joy. Sam laughed under the umbrella, dodging droplets that flew every which way.
"This is a lake," Ada declared, stomping again. "A magic lake where the fish are made of raindrops." Pickle barked his agreement, paddling in circles like he believed every word.
A voice called out from the path. "Ada! Save some puddle for me!" It was Milo, hopping over in his own boots, arms already swinging wide to join the fun.
Ada scooted over without a word, making room. Milo splashed in beside her, and for a while the two of them and Pickle churned that puddle into the wildest lake the park had ever seen.
Slowly, the drizzle thinned to nothing. Sam lowered the umbrella and tipped his face up. "Look," he said, "the sky's clearing." Milo waved goodbye, off toward home, leaving Ada, Sam, and Pickle behind.
Ada looked down at herself, soggy and dripping, and shivered a little. "I'm all wet," she admitted quietly, the words small compared to how big her splashing had been.
They found the wooden bench near the bend. Ada peeled off her raincoat and boots, spreading them flat to dry in the returning sun. Bare feet on cool grass felt like a brand new kind of splash.
"Let's plant something," Ada said, eyes catching on the muddy ground by the bench. Sam raised an eyebrow. "A garden. Of pebbles," she explained, already digging small holes with her fingers.
Sam gathered smooth gray stones and Pickle nosed up a few of his own, dropping them proudly at Ada's feet. Row by row, a whole garden of pebbles bloomed in the dark mud.
Sunlight broke through at last, warm and golden on Ada's shoulders. She pulled her dry raincoat back on, just because she loved how it felt, and gave Sam a hug he wasn't expecting.
Walking home, Ada glanced back once. On the smallest pebble in their garden, a single raindrop still sat, round and shining, holding the whole bright sky inside it.
