The Button That Called Color — Under the picnic oak, Junie rubbed a plain white button between her fingers. Read the full story →
Under the picnic oak, Junie rubbed a plain white button between her fingers. It had belonged to her raincoat, and she wanted it back before the next storm went plip-plip on the leaves. Then the button gave a tiny hum, like a bee inside a teacup.
Junie stepped past the tall flowers and over the soft hill grass. Burrs stuck to her socks, and damp earth smelled sweet. The hum grew brighter until she reached the far dip, where colored ribbons bent across the sky. “I found your secret,” she whispered.
The button flashed, and every flower center shone like a little lamp. Junie ran home with no button sewn on, but with a joy too big to keep quiet. Next time you see the wildflowers under the rainbow, can you spot where her secret began to glow?
