Bea Builds a Rainbow — In the warm supper room, Bea pressed one finger into plain white icing and whispered, “Six stripes, all by myself.” She wanted to make a rainbow cake before Dad’s soup stopped steaming. Read the full story →
In the warm supper room, Bea pressed one finger into plain white icing and whispered, “Six stripes, all by myself.” She wanted to make a rainbow cake before Dad’s soup stopped steaming. The red bowl waited on the table, but the other colors were in the pantry across the creaky hall.
Bea padded out with her little spoon. The floor went eek-eek under her socks. She found orange behind oats, yellow beside lemons, green by a minty jar, blue near the chilly window, and purple on the highest shelf. To reach it, she gave up her favorite candy and stood on the empty tin.
Back she came, careful as a kitten, with purple on her thumb and pride warm in her chest. Stripe by stripe, she made her rainbow. If you peek at the cake, can you spot the candy that became her little stepping stool?
