Lucy wove her wagon through the meadow behind Gram''s house. She breathed in the soft, sweet smell as hundreds and hundreds of bright, yellow blooms danced tall and proud in the wild grass. While Lucy wandered, she sang Gram''s gardening song. "Load up the wagon and off we go. Plant little seeds and watch them grow." A clump of blooms leaned in to listen. Lucy stopped and smiled. "Hello there," she said.
"Would you like to enter a flower contest? We could surprise Gram with a new blue ribbon!" The blooms swayed in the breeze as if to nod their approval. "First, I need to move you," Lucy said as she gently shoveled the blooms out of the ground and into a cozier spot. She scooped handfuls of soil until the flowerpot was full. The blooms stood still. "Now wait here," Lucy said, patting down the last bit of soil. "The Flower Festival is in three days, but I''ll come back to visit you tomorrow." Lucy danced tall and proud, just like the blooms in the meadow, all the way back to Gram''s house. "Oh my, what a lively show," said Gram, clapping her hands.
"You must be ready for a cool drink after all that whirling and waving." While Gram poured the pitcher, she whistled a song. Lucy stood close to listen. The blooms dug their roots into the soil and explored their new surroundings. But as day lingered on, the soil grew dry and the blooms began to fade. The next morning, Lucy returned to find her blooms drooping over the side of their pot. "Oh no," she said. "You must be thirsty.
Let''s get you some water." Lucy lifted her watering can and sprinkled her blooms. While Lucy watered, she whistled a song. Her blooms perked up to listen. "Much better," said Lucy. "I''ll come back first thing tomorrow to give you another drink." Lucy skipped back to the house to draw pictures of her blooms for Gram. "Oh my, what a cheery bunch," said Gram.
And I''ll bet they''re hardy too. Did I ever tell you the story about the daisies I knew that liked to play hide-and-seek?" Lucy nestled next to Gram on the porch swing to listen. The blooms tried to nap in the meadow, but the blazing sun was too bright. The next day when Lucy returned, she found her blooms curled and crisp. "Oh no," said Lucy. "You must be uncomfortable. Maybe you''d like a shadier spot." She wheeled the wagon under the old oak tree and climbed onto Gram''s tire swing.
"Did you know that once upon a time Gram played hide-and-seek with some daisies?" Her blooms peeked their sunny faces out to listen. "Ah, much better," said Lucy, when her story was finished. "I''ll come back first thing tomorrow to take you to the contest." Lucy skipped back to the house and snuggled under a blanket to watch the sunset with Gram. "Oh my, this is my favorite part," said Gram. "Mine too," said Lucy. The blooms shivered in the cool evening air. The next morning, Lucy''s blooms huddled together in the center of their pot.
"Oh no," said Lucy. "You must have been too cold last night." Lucy brought her blooms out into the sun. She sprinkled more water on her blooms. She whistled more songs to her blooms. She told more stories to her blooms. Then she danced a little dance for her blooms. Lucy''s blooms bobbed playfully as they basked in Lucy''s love.
"Much better," said Lucy. "Now you''re ready to win!" Lucy rolled her wagon down the path and into the town square. The judges looked at Lucy''s blooms. They sniffed at Lucy''s blooms. They measured Lucy''s blooms. Then one of the judges opened the rulebook and pointed to the small print. "Ah-ha!" she said. "These are a bunch of weeds.
" "And as the rulebook says, ''No weeds allowed,''" another judge said. Lucy wilted. "Tough break, kid," said the first judge. "Better luck next time," said another, as they moved on to the prize table. Lucy watched as the winners were announced: "Most Beautiful." "Most Fragrant." "Most Colorful." She stood by her blooms and breathed in their soft, sweet smell.
Their cottony tufts tickled her nose. "Don''t worry," Lucy said. "You win the Grand Prize: Most Loved!" Her blooms shimmered in the sun. "C''mon," Lucy said with a smile. "I''ll race you back to Gram''s." She took hold of her wagon and ran. A fantastic flurry of silky seeds swirled and twirled behind her.