Take Charge

by Melody Carlson

  “It’s worth a try,” agreed Morgan.

  “If nothing else, it could be like a memorial to the park,” said Emily in a solemn tone. “A reminder to everyone of what could’ve been.”

  So it was decided they would meet at Carlie’s house at seven on Monday morning. Amy had little hope that it would make any difference, but she did like Chelsea’s comment about going down fighting. Why not?

  The girls worked harder than ever on Monday morning, each of them fully filling their permit limit with plants they dug from the woods. They brought bag lunches and ate on the road as Mr. Garcia drove them back to town. By the time they were at the park, the sun was shining warmly overhead, and even though the ground was still pretty soggy, it did make the digging easier. Carlie’s dad stayed to help, and by six o’clock they had all the shrubs and trees replanted.

  “It looks really pretty,” said Amy as they stood back to look at the entrance to the park.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Chelsea. “It looks like a professional landscaper was here.”

  “Carlie’s flowers really brighten it up too,” said Morgan.

  Then Amy looked out at the rest of the park, which still looked a bit like a war zone. “If only we had enough time to get to the rest of it.”

  “There’s no way,” said Chelsea. “I mean, this little corner here took us a whole day to do. We don’t have money and we don’t have time … There’s no way.”

  “It is kind of like a memorial,” said Emily.

  “Let’s pray,” said Morgan.

  Then all five girls joined hands, and Morgan led them in a prayer. “Dear heavenly Father,” she said, “we’ve done everything we could to preserve this park, but it’s just not enough. We know that you’re able to do anything, and we believe that if you want to save this park, you can make it happen. You are God of the impossible, and as far as we can see, this project really is impossible. So we give it to you now. Amen.”

  The other girls said “Amen,” and Carlie’s dad backed up his pickup so they could start loading their tools into it. But before they got in, they heard someone calling them. “Wait up!”

  They turned to see Gary Hardwick from the newspaper approaching them. “Hey, Amy! Can I get a photo of you guys?”

  Amy looked at her friends. They were all covered with mud, literally from head to toe. “We’re not really looking our best,” she told him.

  He grinned. “It’s okay. You’ve been working hard. And I thought maybe I could run another little story in the paper about what you’ve tried to do.”

  “Even though we failed?” asked Amy.

  He frowned. “Well, maybe it’ll make some of these businesspeople think.”

  “Okay,” said Amy.

  “It’ll give the kids at school something to talk about,” said Chelsea. “They already call us the park pigs, and today we really look like it.”

  “They call you the park pigs?” asked Gary as he adjusted his camera lens.

  “Yeah,” said Morgan. “Most of the mouthiest kids at school think this town needs a parking lot too.”

  “It’s been an uphill battle all the way,” said Amy.

  “That’s too bad,” he said. “Okay, now squeeze together a little closer and say cheese.” They complied and he took the shot. “I’ll try to get this story into Tuesday’s paper,” he told them.

  “But don’t hold your breath,” said Chelsea after he walked away.

  “Right,” said Emily. “We know how that goes.”

  “There’s my mom,” said Chelsea. “See ya later!”

  They all piled back into Mr. Garcia’s pickup. Everyone was very quiet as he drove them home. Amy wasn’t sure if it was because they were tired or because they were discouraged. She wasn’t even sure that she cared.

  On Sunday afternoon Amy asked An to drive her back up to the McPhearson house. “I need to tell Miss McPhearson that we’ve let her down,” she told An as they drove.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” said An. “You guys did everything you could.”

  “I know … but I assured her that we could do this. And now it seems like we’ve failed.”

  “Do you want me to wait for you this time?” asked An as she pulled into the driveway.

  “Yes,” said Amy. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  Cara showed Amy to the library, and before long Miss McPhearson came in. “Hello, Amy Ngo,” she said in a voice that almost sounded cheerful. At least for her.

  “Hello, Miss McPhearson,” said Amy. “I’ve come with bad news.”

  She frowned. “What is it?”

  “We can’t save the park.”

  “Oh.” She waved her hand. “I knew that.”

  “You knew that?”

  “How could five little girls possibly do all that work?”

  Amy shrugged. “It seemed possible at the time.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  Amy studied her. “What do I know?”

  “That it doesn’t pay to dream big, little girl.”

  Amy blinked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know that.”

  “Well, the sooner you learn that lesson, the better off you will be.”

  Amy stood up and planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t think I ever want to learn that lesson, Miss McPhearson. I mean, I know that not all my dreams can come true. But some of them can.”

  “Harrumph.”

  “My family came to this country with a big dream.” Amy couldn’t believe she’d just said this. She’d heard this story enough times from her parents, but it wasn’t something she usually talked about. “My parents escaped Vietnam during the war. They weren’t much older than me when they fled their homeland with only the clothes on their backs. They had both come from good families, families who had money and wealth but lost everything in the war. My parents lived as refugees for years, practically starving to death. But they eventually got jobs and they got married and even had some kids. But they still had a dream that was bigger than that. They wanted to come to America. They wanted to start a business and put their kids through college.” Amy could feel tears in her eyes as she said this. “It was their dream, and a lot of their friends thought it was impossible. But they did it, Miss McPhearson. And because of that, I refuse to believe that dreams can’t come true.”

  Miss McPhearson looked slightly stunned, but she didn’t say anything.

  “And there’s an even bigger reason I believe dreams can come true now,” continued Amy. “I just invited Jesus into my heart, and I believe that he can do anything and that he can make dreams come true — even if they are impossible.”

  “Well … ”

  “And I’m sorry if my park dream can’t come true, Miss McPhearson. But I will NEVER stop dreaming. Thank you very much!”

  And then Amy walked out. Okay, she knew it was rude, but it seemed better than standing there yelling at the woman. Because Amy was mad. What right did Miss McPhearson have to tell Amy that dreams never came true!

  “Are you okay?” asked An as Amy stomped out to the car.

  “Just fine,” snapped Amy. Then she laughed. “Actually, I am. I’m just fine, An.”

  “Well, good,” said An as she drove away. “I thought maybe the Dragon Lady got to you.”

  “She sort of did,” admitted Amy. “But in a good way.”

  chapter eleven

  “It’s a miracle,” Amy told her friends as they met for an emergency meeting on Friday afternoon.

  “What?” demanded Morgan. “Tell us!”

  “We have money to finish the park.”

  “Money?” questioned Chelsea. “What kind of money?”

  “Lots of money,” said Amy.

  “Explain,” said Emily.

  “Okay, for starters I got this letter from Mrs. Watson today,” said Amy, holding up the letter. “She didn’t get my address right so it was lost in the mail for a couple of weeks, but it came today. And there was a check in it.”

  “For how much?” as
ked Carlie.

  “It’s for two hundred dollars,” said Amy.

  “Wow,” said Emily.

  “Two hundred dollars is not enough to finish the park,” pointed out Chelsea.

  “I know,” said Amy. “But that’s not all. Mrs. Watson wrote in her letter that she and some of her friends in town have set up a Save Our Park fund. In your dad’s bank, Chelsea!”

  “It’s not his bank.”

  “Yeah, I know. Anyway, I went down there after school, while you guys were at soccer. I wanted to check it out and … okay, you guys are not going to believe this —”

  “Tell us!” yelled Morgan.

  “There’s more than thirty thousand dollars in there!”

  “No way!” screamed Emily.

  “That’s a whole lotta money!” yelled Carlie.

  “Wowzers!” exclaimed Morgan.

  “It’s like a real miracle,” said Chelsea in a stunned voice.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” said Amy.

  “Who donated that much money?” asked Morgan.

  “A number of people,” said Amy. “They have a list, but there is also one anonymous donor, someone who gave most of the money.”

  “Who do you think it was?” asked Emily.

  “Well, it’s hard to believe this, but I think maybe it was Viola McPhearson.”

  “Really?” Morgan didn’t look convinced.

  “I know, it sounds strange, but I have a feeling …”

  “Well, that’s not important now,” said Morgan. “What’s important now is figuring out how we can make this happen before the thirty-day deadline.”

  “That’s right,” said Amy. “I’ve already done a little research, made some phone calls, and I already have a few things lined up for tomorrow.” She pulled out her list and the names and numbers. “I’ve tried to make a budget,” she said. “And after talking to several people, I can see how thirty thousand dollars may sound like a lot, but it’s going to be tight.”

  The girls studied the list and made some comments and suggestions. Then they split up some of the phone numbers and tasks, and everyone went to work making phone calls and lining things up for tomorrow.

  On Saturday morning all five girls met at the park at the crack of dawn. And before long the first dump truck filled with bark mulch arrived. Shortly after that, a load of grass turf arrived. But the most amazing thing to arrive was people! Dressed for work and equipped with rakes and shovels, lots of people showed up and got very busy. There were neighbors from Harbor View Mobile-Home Court — even Mr. Greeley, who usually kept to himself, had come!

  “Did you see the article in this morning’s paper?” Gary asked Amy as he dumped a load of beach sand in the play area where she was spreading it.

  “No,” she told him. “I never had time to look at the paper.”

  He pulled a folded page out of his sweatshirt pocket and opened it up. There on the front page were Amy and her friends, looking dirty but happy. And then there was another shot of the park sign where they had planted the shrubs and trees from the woods. The headline said, “Park Preservationists Refuse to Give Up.” She scanned the article then smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Hardwick.”

  “Thank you, Amy.” He grinned at her. “You and your friends had the right idea from the start. It’s just too bad it took everyone else so long to figure it out.”

  “But at least they figured it out,” she said, looking out over the park, which was looking more and more like a park.

  By the end of the day, it really did look like a miracle had hit McPhearson Park. With the combined efforts of the volunteers, hired workers, and contractors, everything was back into place — only now it was much better than before.

  “This is truly amazing,” said the mayor as he surveyed the freshly laid turf with new park benches along the edges. He had actually been working with them for the better part of the day. “I never would’ve believed this was possible.”

  “That’s what makes it a miracle,” said Amy.

  “This park used to be a real eyesore,” said Gary Hardwick as he took another photo of a completed section of the project. “And now it’s really beautiful.”

  Two weeks later, the city sponsored a ceremony to celebrate the park’s renovation, which was finally complete. But when the girls arrived early on Saturday afternoon, they were shocked to see a large construction truck with a big yellow crane just pulling out onto the street.

  “What’s up with that?” asked Amy with concern. “Don’t tell me they are putting in a parking lot after all.”

  “No way,” said Carlie. “They wouldn’t dare.”

  “Although we did miss the thirty-day deadline,” Amy pointed out.

  They all ran over to see what was going on. They all stopped in their tracks when they saw something that hadn’t been there before. In the center of the park, looking as if it had always been there, sat a big white gazebo.

  “It’s beautiful!” exclaimed Carlie.

  “Wow!” yelled Emily.

  “Miss McPhearson,” said Amy.

  “She did this?” asked Morgan.

  “I’m sure she did,” said Amy. “There used to be a gazebo here when she was a girl. Mrs. Watson said they had concerts in the park.”

  “Cool,” said Chelsea.

  Soon all the chairs and things were arranged for the ceremony, situated all around the gazebo. The five girls were invited to sit up front with the mayor. Just as the mayor stood up, preparing to give a dedication speech, Amy noticed an elderly woman slowly making her way across the park.

  “It’s Miss McPhearson,” she whispered to the mayor.

  “I thought you said she wasn’t coming,” said the mayor.

  Amy grinned. “That’s what she told me several times, but then Miss McPhearson is a little unpredictable.” Then Amy left the gazebo and ran down to meet the old woman. Taking her hand, Amy led her up to the gazebo where she was given the seat of honor, right in the center.

  “I’m so glad you came,” whispered Amy.

  “Harrumph.”

  The mayor made a nice speech about how important it was to preserve old traditions and historical places, and he was just finishing up when Miss McPhearson stood and cleared her throat.

  “Would you like to share a few words?” he asked her, looking a bit uncomfortable.

  “Yes.” She stepped up to the microphone. “As many of you know, my family founded this park many, many years ago. And for generations it was a good place for people to gather, for children to play … but it fell into disrepair and many felt it should be tossed aside, the way people do with old things.” She sighed. “But these five young ladies saw beyond the oldness. Or, as my friend Amy Ngo would say, they weren’t afraid to dream. I think we can all learn a lot from them. But I’m not here to go on and on. I am here to say that I am donating this park to the city, but with the condition that it will always remain a park. And I will also donate a trust fund to help with the maintenance.” She stepped aside now and everyone clapped.

  Miss McPhearson sat back down next to Amy and turned to her. “But I do have one condition, Amy Ngo.”

  “What?”

  “You and your friends must come to tea again.” She almost smiled now. “We have much to talk about.”

  “It’s a deal,” said Amy, sticking out her hand to shake with Miss McPhearson.

  Amy looked out over the spectators sitting in the folding chairs in their recently renovated city park. She could see her family sitting near the back. Even her mother was there. And to Amy’s surprise, she too was smiling.

  Amy whispered a silent prayer. She thanked God for working miracles — and she thanked him for planting new dreams in her heart.

  About the Author

  MELODY CARLSON has written more than 200 books for teens, women, and children. Before publishing, Melody traveled around the world, volunteered in teen ministry, taught preschool, raised two sons, and worked briefly in interior design and later in international ad
option. “I think real-life experiences inspire the best fiction,” she says. Her wide variety of books seems to prove this theory.

  www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

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