Radishes Don't Rush
Juju came out to the garden with a paper packet and a grin. Her apron was dusty with flour, because she had been baking cookies all morning. "Rosy, today we plant radishes," she said. "Radishes are speedy. But nothing grows in a blink."
Rosy poked little holes in the dark soil with one finger. Juju dropped in a seed, and Rosy dropped in six, because more seemed better. "Six is a crowd," said Juju, laughing. They patted the soil flat like a blanket.
Juju handed Rosy the purple watering can. It sloshed. Rosy tipped it, and a silver rain fell on the bed. "A little every day," said Juju. "That is the secret. Seeds like to be remembered."
Mama waved from the porch steps with a lemonade jug. Rosy ran up to tell her everything. "I planted six seeds in one hole!" Mama sipped and smiled. "Bold. Let's see who's brave enough to wait."
The next morning Rosy tiptoed to the bed. Nothing. Just flat brown soil. Her shoulders drooped. The watering can sat beside her, and she looked at it, and then at the bare dirt, and her fingers itched.
Rosy knelt and dug with both hands. Soil flew. She found a seed, all fat and plain and sleepy, with no sprout at all. "Oh," she said softly. The seed looked cold out in the air.
Juju knelt too. "Sleeping seeds need quiet," she said. Together they tucked it back in. Rosy gave it a drink and whispered, "Sorry." Then she watered the whole row, careful and slow.
Day after day, Rosy carried the purple can out and gave the bed its drink. On the third day, tiny green loops poked up like folded ears. Rosy gasped so loudly a bird left the fence.
Then the leaves grew floppy and big. Rosy watered every morning, even the chilly one. Juju helped her pull out the extra sprouts, so the best ones had room. "Six in one hole," Juju teased. "Now we know."
One afternoon a round pink shoulder showed in the dirt. Rosy tugged with both hands and sat down hard in the grass, holding the biggest radish in the whole county. Or at least on the street. Mama clapped from the porch.
Rosy marched the radish into the kitchen, where Juju was taking cookies out of the oven. The radish had a crown of leaves and a very serious face, or so Rosy decided. "Now what?" asked Juju.
Rosy ran the radish back outside and dunked it in the purple watering can. "Bath time!" she said. She scrubbed it with a leaf. Juju watched from the porch steps with her cookie, shaking with giggles.
The radish came out sparkling. Rosy wrapped it in a towel and tucked it into bed beside her. Mama peeked in. "Your radish snores," she whispered. Rosy nodded. "It's growing bigger," she said, and the whole house laughed.
