Watershed

We were spared the gift-wrap shilling, the bake sale, the auction. Instead, to raise money for Nora's preschool scholarship fund, 50 sets of little hands (alongside many big ones) yanked invasive ivy, holly, and "stinky bob" away from the muddy banks of a local watershed. We planted wild strawberries and ferns. We rebuilt a trail.

I watched Nora shy away from every child's greeting. She turned her head into my legs and frowned. I watched bigger girls running around in pairs, all dramatized authority and efficient gestures, good friends teamed together. Small boys in posses, namecalling and pushing each other down the hill and poking at worms. Nora entirely disinterested in joining the other kids.

So we dug holes for small plants, stomped mulch, ate hummus and carrots, went to find the potty. On the way back to the car, we gathered acorns. She walked, toe to heel, along the yellow curb and didn't want to get in the car.