The Kite Contest
Every spring, the town held a kite contest on the hill. This year Aria had made her own kite from newspaper, sticks and string. The other kites were bright and shop-bought, and Aria felt her cheeks go hot when a boy laughed at hers.
When the whistle blew, the wind was so strong that the fancy kites tangled together and crashed. Aria’s light kite climbed higher and higher. She kept the string tight and walked slowly backwards, just as Grandpa had shown her.
The judges gave her a ribbon for the highest flight. The boy who had laughed asked if she could help him make one.