The Squash That Applauded — Every afternoon, Della lined the squash by size, polished the apple skins, and shushed the carrot tops when they squeaked in the wicker. Read the full story →
Every afternoon, Della lined the squash by size, polished the apple skins, and shushed the carrot tops when they squeaked in the wicker. Until one day a pear-shaped squash in her paws gave three crisp claps, smelling faintly of cinnamon and trouble. Because of that, the rabbit vendor dropped his neat basket; because of THAT, rolling potatoes bumped the stall legs like tiny drums. Finally Della stopped re-stacking and bowed, letting the whole market join the racket—bunting fluttering, leaves snickering, joy too large for one tidy table—while the pear-shaped squash applauded again.