Holiday Time Read online

  Sara had not had much chance to talk to Pamela. Pamela was always surrounded by Jannie and Leslie and sometimes Terri. But Sara felt sure that Pamela was not a snob.

  “I wish you would quit picking on her,” said Sara. She felt a little angry.

  Audrey looked surprised. “I am not picking on her. It is a fact: Pamela is a snob. And she can be mean sometimes too. I heard her tell Natalie to wear tights instead of socks. Because tights cannot fall down.”

  “Well, Natalie’s socks are always falling down,” said Sara.

  “I know, but it is not nice to tease her about it,” said Audrey.

  “You are just jealous,” Sara blurted out.

  Audrey’s eyes widened. “Jealous?”

  “Yes,” said Sara. She was about to say something mean, but she could not stop herself. “You are jealous because Pamela is pretty and wears great clothes. And she is grown-up and cool.”

  Audrey glared at Sara. “So you are saying I am an uncool baby.”

  “Well, you said it. Not me.” Sara felt terrible as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

  Audrey stared at Sara. Her lower lip quivered. Just then they heard the doorbell ring.

  “That is your mommy, coming to pick you up,” said Audrey. “And I am glad. I want you to go home.”

  Sara was already sorry about what she had said, but she could not say so. Instead she said, “Me too.”

  WHAT TO DO?

  The next day, after lunch, Ms. Colman asked her class to form their holiday groups.

  It was hard for Sara to pay attention. Audrey was not speaking to her. Sara had eaten lunch with Tammy Barkan. She had wanted to sit at Pamela’s table, but there were no free seats.

  Now the kids in her group were talking about their Kwanzaa presentations.

  “I have bought seven candles,” said Chris. “Three red ones, one black one, and three green ones. Nancy and I can tell the class what each candle stands for during Kwanzaa.”

  “You know what,” said Nancy. “Hanukkah uses special candles also. But they can be all different colors.”

  “I have made the special Kwanzaa table mat,” said Tammy. “I am going to tell everyone how to make one, and why people use them at Kwanzaa.”

  “We are going to have the best presentations ever,” said Nancy. “Sara, how is your special Kwanzaa food coming along?”

  Sara jumped. She had not been listening until Nancy asked her about the food. What could she say? The presentations were to begin the next day. The food was needed on Friday. She had only three days left.

  “Oh, it is fine,” she said. “No problem. It will be very delicious.”

  “What are you making?” asked Ian.

  “Um … it is a surprise,” said Sara. “But it will be very good, you will see.”

  Nancy smiled. “Natalie is making special Christmas cookies,” she said. “But Audrey is having a hard time finding the right recipe. Audrey said she might just buy store-made macaroons.”

  Sara felt sad that Nancy knew Audrey’s plans and she did not. That is what happens when friends fight.

  “Pamela, you are not singing the right tune,” said Karen loudly from across the room.

  Everyone in class turned to look at the Christmas group.

  “Me?” said Pamela. “You are the one who sounds like a frog. A sick frog.”

  “There they go again,” said Jannie. “Karen keeps asking for trouble. Pamela says that anyone so full of hot air ought to be used as a Thanksgiving Day balloon.”

  That did not sound like a very nice thing for Pamela to say, thought Sara. On the other hand, Karen was a blabbermouth.

  “Pamela is the one full of hot air,” Nancy said to Jannie. “Karen is standing up for herself.”

  “You are just saying that because Karen is your best friend,” said Jannie. “But Pamela is right.”

  Sara sighed and put her head in her hands. First she and Audrey. Now Nancy and Jannie. Everyone in class was arguing — all because of Pamela. But it was not Pamela’s fault, was it?

  POOR FREDERICK

  That afternoon Sara checked on her black-eyed-pea soup. She had made it in her mother’s Crock-Pot. (Sara was allowed to use the Crock-Pot by herself.) She took out a long spoon and ate a couple of black-eyed peas. They crunched between her teeth. When Grammy Ford made them, they were smooth and soft and chewy. Not crunchy.

  Sara swallowed hard. She drank a glass of water. “Frederick!” she called.

  “Oh my goodness,” said Mrs. Ford a little while later.

  Sara was in her room, doing her spelling homework. She had missed two words on her last spelling quiz. Now she was writing them each ten times, very neatly.

  “What is the matter?” Sara heard Marcus ask their mother.

  “Frederick has been sick,” said Mrs. Ford. “Could you please bring me a roll of paper towels?”

  “Oh, yuck,” said Marcus. “He barfed?”

  Sara bit her lip. Frederick had eaten a lot of black-eyed peas. But he seemed to enjoy them. They could not have made him sick, could they?

  Sara went out into the hall. Her mother was cleaning the floor with disinfectant. Frederick was sitting nearby, looking embarrassed.

  “Frederick was sick?” Sara asked.

  “Yes,” said her mother. “Not just here, but in the family room also. It is very weird. I do not know what he has been eating. It almost looks like …”

  Mrs. Ford straightened up. She looked at Sara. Then she looked at Frederick. “Sara, weren’t you making black-eyed peas in the Crock-Pot?”

  Sara gazed at her feet.

  “What happened to them, honey?” asked her mother. “Where did you put them? Could Frederick have gotten to them?”

  “Um,” said Sara.

  “Sara?”

  “Well, I …”

  Mrs. Ford gathered her cleaning supplies and stood up. “Please come with me, Sara. We need to talk.”

  “I did not mean to make Frederick sick,” Sara said, sniffling. Her mother handed her a tissue.

  “Have you been feeding Frederick all of your recipes?” asked Mrs. Ford.

  Sara nodded. “You said the cookies were wasted food, since we could not eat them. But Frederick will eat almost anything. I thought giving him the food was better than wasting it.”

  “So this is why Frederick has been getting fatter and fatter without eating his dinner,” said Mrs. Ford.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I guess the black-eyed peas were the last straw. Now his tummy is upset. What was wrong with the peas?”

  “They were crunchy,” said Sara.

  “Okay. Listen,” said her mother. “Frederick is just a little dog. He does not know what is best for him.”

  Across the room, Frederick thumped his tail.

  “That is why we have to take good care of him,” Mrs. Ford went on. “Taking care of him means making sure he eats good dog food, and not a lot of people food. Also, not too much food. From now on, you must not give him anything to eat without checking with me or your daddy first. Okay?”

  “What about dog treats?” asked Sara.

  “Two dog biscuits in the morning, two liver snacks at night,” said Mrs. Ford. “No more.”

  “Okay,” said Sara.

  “And now that Frederick is over-weight, he will need more exercise until he slims down. It will be your job to take him for extra walks. Every day after school, you must walk him around the block four times.”

  “Okay.” Walking Frederick around the block four times would take forever. Frederick always stopped about a million times. He had to sniff everything.

  “Now, what are you going to make for your Kwanzaa dish?” asked her mother.

  “I do not know,” said Sara unhappily. “I just do not know.”

  HOLIDAY PRESENTATIONS

  On Tuesday afternoon the holiday presentations began. First Chris held up a black candle in front of everyone in Ms. Colman’s class. He put it in the special Kwanzaa candleholder, called a k
inara.

  “On the first day of Kwanzaa,” he said, “people light the black candle. The black candle stands for umoja, which is a Swahili word meaning unity.”

  Nancy stepped forward. She held up a red candle, then placed it in the kinara next to the black candle.

  “On the second day of Kwanzaa,” she said, “a red candle is lit. It stands for” — Nancy read carefully from an index card — “kujichagulia. That means self-determination. And that means learning about African traditions. Or practicing traditions you already know.”

  Chris and Nancy took turns talking about the seven days of Kwanzaa and putting candles into the kinara. Chris talked about ujima, working together. Nancy talked about ujamaa, putting everyone’s money together for one purpose. Chris talked about nia, which means purpose or goal. Nancy held up a red candle for kuumba, creativity. They explained the last candle, a green one, together.

  “Imani means faith,” said Chris.

  “Faith means you expect good things in the future,” said Nancy.

  The class clapped when they were finished.

  Ms. Colman said, “Very well done, Chris and Nancy.”

  Next, Ricky and Hannie showed everyone how to play the dreidel game for Hanukkah. They explained about Hanukkah gelt.

  “Excellent,” said Ms. Colman when they were finished.

  The last presentation of the day was by the Christmas group. Ms. Colman had said that Karen and Pamela had to work together. So the two of them stood in front of the class and talked about Christmas spirit. Karen was wearing red jeans and a green sweatshirt. Pamela was wearing black velvet overalls, a thermal-weave turtleneck, and a gold Leo zodiac charm on a black silk cord. She looked almost like a fourth-grader.

  “Christmas spirit is not something you can see or taste or hear,” said Karen. She looked stiff and angry, standing next to Pamela. “It means feeling love and kindness toward everybody. It means forgiving everyone and hoping nice things happen to them.”

  Sara thought that Karen did not look like she wanted anything nice to happen to Pamela.

  Pamela stepped forward. “Christmas spirit means enjoying giving presents to people, and doing nice things for them. Especially if you do them secretly. Almost like you were a Christmas elf.” Pamela put her hand over her mouth and giggled.

  Karen gasped and whirled on Pamela. “Pamela!” she cried. “Quit making fun of my family’s Christmas elf!”

  Pamela just giggled harder.

  Hmm, thought Sara. It was not very nice of Pamela to tease Karen about her family’s tradition. Especially in front of the whole class. Even though having a Christmas elf did sound a little babyish. Sara wondered if Karen had had her picture taken with Santa this year.

  “Girls,” said Ms. Colman. Ms. Colman hardly ever raised her voice, but Sara could tell she was not happy with Karen and Pamela. “You two are not a good example of the Christmas spirit. I am not very pleased with this presentation.”

  Karen looked as if she were about to say something, but she did not. She just stomped back to her desk and sat down. Pamela sat down at her desk.

  I have only three days left, thought Sara. She wondered if Audrey really was going to buy macaroons. She missed Audrey.

  “Audrey, could you please erase the board for me before our social-studies lesson?” asked Ms. Colman.

  Audrey stood up. Sara saw that one of her shoes was untied. Before Sara could warn her, Audrey stepped on the laces and tripped. She fell on her stomach on the floor. In front of everyone.

  But Ms. Colman’s class seemed to have some Christmas spirit. No one laughed or pointed. Tammy helped Audrey to her feet.

  “Audrey, are you all right?” asked Ms. Colman.

  “I am okay,” Audrey said. Her face was red with embarrassment. Sara wanted to say something nice to make Audrey feel better, but she was sitting too far away. Also, she and Audrey were not speaking.

  Then Sara heard Pamela say, “Oops. There she goes again.”

  Jannie and Leslie smiled.

  “She must have tripped on a Christmas elf,” whispered Pamela.

  “BE QUIET!” Karen yelled.

  “Pamela, Karen, that is quite enough,” said Ms. Colman firmly. “I will speak to you both after class.”

  At that moment Sara made up her mind about Pamela. She was not trying very hard to be friendly.

  You might look nice, Pamela, Sara thought. But you are actually not very nice. And Audrey is. I will remember that.

  BINGO

  That afternoon Sara’s mother gave Sara permission to walk down the street to Audrey’s house.

  Audrey looked surprised to see Sara at her door.

  “I came to say I am sorry,” said Sara quickly. Apologizing was like taking off a Band-Aid. It hurt less if you did it fast, all at once. “I was wrong about Pamela. I am sorry she was mean to you today. And I did not mean what I said the other day. I take it back.”

  “You said I was babyish,” Audrey reminded her.

  “You are not any more babyish than I am,” said Sara.

  Audrey thought for a moment. “I forgive you.”

  “Thank you,” said Sara. “So we are not fighting anymore?”

  Audrey smiled. “I guess not.”

  “Good,” said Sara. “Because I really need help.”

  “What about this one?” said Audrey. She took a sip of chocolate milk.

  Sara and Audrey were sitting at Audrey’s kitchen table. Every cookbook in the house was spread open on the table.

  Sara ate a cookie. “It looks too difficult. See, your mommy would have to fry the onions.”

  They had been looking at recipes for almost an hour. Not one seemed just right, for either Hanukkah or Kwanzaa.

  “What are we going to do?” wailed Audrey. “I need a Hanukkah recipe. You need a Kwanzaa recipe. And we need them by Friday!”

  “Maybe we should ask our parents to make things for us,” said Sara.

  “Well, we could,” said Audrey. “That does not seem like much fun, though.”

  “Natalie is making special Christmas cookies,” said Sara. “She has been talking about them. She has Christmas cookie cutters. Her parents bought her all kinds of icing and sprinkles and stuff.”

  “Oh, no.” Audrey moaned. “Her cookies will be great. And what do I have? An exploding kugel, matzo balls you could use as doorstops, and disgusting pickled fish.”

  Sara laughed. “I made one humongous cookie, a loaf of bread that could break a window, and some awful, crunchy black-eyed peas that made Frederick sick.”

  Audrey looked at Sara. Sara looked at Audrey. Now they both were laughing.

  “I am glad we are friends again,” said Sara.

  “Me too,” said Audrey.

  They began looking through the cook-books once more.

  “Yum,” said Audrey. “Potato latkes. I love those.”

  “What are they?” asked Sara.

  “They are also called potato pancakes,” said Audrey, “but they are not really like pancakes. They are more like french fries, but all lumped up. They are delicious.”

  “Are they hard to make?” asked Sara.

  Audrey read the recipe. “Not really. You just grate up some potatoes and a little onion. Then you add some flour and salt and pepper. But then you have to fry them.”

  “Hmm,” said Sara. “They sound good. We could ask your mommy or daddy to fry them for us, after we make them.”

  “Wait, wait!” said Audrey. “Here is a recipe for baking the latkes. That way Mommy would only have to open the oven for me, instead of frying and frying and frying.” Audrey looked at Sara. “I think this is it!”

  “It might be it for you,” said Sara sadly. “But my Kwanzaa dish is still missing.”

  “Could we say they are Kwanzaa latkes?” asked Audrey.

  Sara shook her head. “I do not think so. Besides, we eat mostly sweet potatoes during Kwanzaa. Not white potatoes.”

  “Could you make sweet potato latkes?” asked Audrey. />
  “I guess,” said Sara. “But they would still be latkes. You have given me an idea, though. My daddy said he always liked sweet-potato casserole. I had not thought of it before. But I wonder if I could make one.”

  “Let’s look for a recipe,” said Audrey.

  A few minutes later they found it.

  “Look,” said Sara. “You take sweet potatoes, oranges, and chopped-up peanuts. Then you put in brown sugar and salt and apple juice. It sounds yummy.”

  “It sounds different,” said Audrey. “At my house we usually make sweet potatoes with little marshmallows on top.”

  “I do not think marshmallows are very African,” said Sara. “But this recipe sounds good. Mommy would have to bake it for me. She might even have to help with cutting up the sweet potatoes. But that is okay.”

  “Yes,” said Audrey. “Isn’t there a Kwanzaa day when everyone works together?”

  “The third day,” said Sara. “Ujima. That is right — I had not thought of that. You and I working together to find a recipe is like ujima. And Mommy helping me make my recipe is also like ujima. That makes it even more Kwanzaa-ish.”

  Sara and Audrey smiled at each other. Then they slapped high fives. Their holiday presentations were saved!

  A HOLIDAY SUCCESS

  “Today is the last day before our winter vacation,” said Ms. Colman on Friday. “To end our unit on holidays, each group will present its special holiday songs. Afterward, we will have our class party. Now we will start with the Hanukkah group.”

  Audrey, Hannie, Bobby, Ricky, and Terri stood at the front of the class. They sang “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel,” “Hanukkah, O Hanukkah,” and “The Blessing for the Candles.”

  Everyone clapped when they were done.

  “Very nice, Hanukkah group,” said Ms. Colman. “We have all learned a lot about Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, this past week, and why it is a very special holiday. Thank you.”

  Everyone clapped again.

  “Now it is the Christmas group’s turn,” said Ms. Colman.