The Year of the Book

Ray, the crossing guard, is waiting at the curb in his orange vest that catches the sunrise.
“How’s my girl?” he asks.
I show him the lunch bag that I sewed yesterday.
“Well if that’s not the prettiest lunch bag I’ve ever seen.” He tests the drawstrings.
“It’s fabric left over from my bedspread,” I tell him.
“So your lunch matches your bed.” Ray admires my handiwork.
Laura and Allison join us at the curb.
“How many more minutes until the bell, Ray?” Allison asks.
Ray glances at his wristwatch. “You got about three minutes today, girls.” Then he walks into the intersection and holds out his arms so we can cross.
I’d rather stay with Ray than go onto the fourth grade playground where Laura and Allison stand so close that there is no space left for me.
“Hey, what’s that?” Laura asks, noticing my bag.
“A lunch bag,” I say.
“Homemade?” Allison asks.
I nod.
She looks at Laura. Their eyes meet.

We start out with the word of the week. Ms. Simmons writes it on the board. Perseverance. Laura’s hand shoots up before Ms. Simmons has even finished the last letter. She knows more words than the rest of us.
“It’s when you don’t give up,” she says.
Ms. Simmons nods. “Can someone give us an example of perseverance?”
Lucy raises her hand. “Like when I learned to play basketball,” she says.
Ms. Simmons tells us to write a paragraph about a time that we were perseverant. Laura starts right away. I don’t know how she thinks of ideas so fast. I stare at the blank paper. Then I see my lunch bag that’s on top of my books and that gives me an idea. On the top of my paper I write my name, Anna Wang, and the title, Making a Lunch Bag. I skip a line and then write:

Making a lunch bag is not as easy as it first looks. First I cut the rectangles too small because I forgot about the seam. Then I cut them again and made them bigger but I sewed the casing backwards.

Allison glances at my paper. She leans over and says, “Perseverance has to be something that takes a really long time.” She shows me her title: Learning to Ride a Two-Wheeler
The blood rushes to my cheeks. Writing about making a lunch bag is stupid but it’s too late to start over. I don’t think Ms. Simmons will understand what I’m talking about, especially if she doesn’t know how to sew.