For my mother, Shirley, who was creative, inspiring and loving — S.V.F.
For Lisa, my other sister — S.M.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Daisy’s Wonderful Word Lists
Chapter One
Daisy liked running barefoot and feeling the blades of grass between her toes. She liked painting pictures and mixing colors to get the perfect shade of blue for the sky or pink for her best friend Emma’s favorite shoes.
Daisy liked going to the mailbox to get the day’s mail. She especially liked getting letters addressed to her, because they were full of interesting words that were meant for her eyes only. And more than painting or running barefoot, Daisy loved words. She collected her favorite words in a green notebook covered with purple polka dots.
Today, when she got the mail, Daisy was delighted to find a pretty pink envelope with her name on it. She thought it might be a party invitation from one of her friends, so she tried to think of someone who had a birthday in June. School would be ending soon and it would be a great time for a party, but Daisy couldn’t think of anyone. Emma’s birthday was in January and Samantha’s was in October.
The envelope was quite big, though. It looked more like the sort of thing her mother received, inviting her to a baby shower or a dinner party. Daisy looked again to be sure she hadn’t made a mistake. She was right! The envelope did have her name on it. With a loud “Yippee!” she ran inside.
The envelope was so pretty — pale pink with a trail of little blue flowers along the bottom edge — that Daisy hated to rip it open. On the other hand, she couldn’t wait to find out what was inside. So she got the letter opener from her father’s desk, carefully slit just the very top and pulled out the card. She was surprised by what she saw.
Daisy was thrilled! She hurried to the kitchen to tell her mom.
“Mrs. Bookman invited me to a poetry party!” she exclaimed. “It’s a grown-up party, Saturday at two. Please, may I go?”
“That’s quite an honor,” said Daisy’s mother, looking at the invitation. “I think you’ll really have fun hearing all kinds of poems.” She went to check the family calendar. “It looks clear to me,” she said.
Daisy wanted to respond right away. Mrs. Bookman lived nearby, and Daisy thought about biking over to her house. But then she decided it would be faster to call, so she rushed to the phone instead. Mrs. Bookman didn’t answer, so Daisy left a message. “Hi! It’s Daisy. I’d love to come to the poetry party. Thanks so much for inviting me!”
Then she took the beautiful invitation and tacked it up on the bulletin board in her room for safekeeping.
***
From then on, the poetry party was all Daisy could think about. At dinner, she told her father and her younger sister, Lily, about the invitation. “I’m so excited!” Daisy said. “I get to go to a party with real poets.”
She thought for a minute. “I wonder what I should wear. Do you think a poetry party is like a garden party?” she asked. “I’ve seen pictures of those in books.” She imagined herself in a flowing summer dress, a large floppy hat and white gloves.
“The party sounds very interesting,” her father said. “But I don’t think I will be much help picking an outfit.”
Daisy was still thinking about the poetry party as she lay in bed that night. She wondered if she should bring a poem. Then she sat straight up, her brow furrowed. “Do all poems have to rhyme?” she whispered. She thought about the poems she and her friends wrote at school. Most of those did rhyme, but making everything rhyme was hard work.
Daisy turned on her bedside lamp and reached for her green notebook with the purple polka dots. She flipped to her list of Favorite Rhyming Words. She read the words sweet and treat as well as sun and fun. Those would all be good words to work into a poem. But she wasn’t exactly sure how to put the words together.
Daisy lay down again. She was feeling confused. Rhyming words like flower and power, poems she had heard before and Mrs. Bookman’s invitation all bounced around in her head. When Daisy finally fell asleep, she dreamed that it was Saturday afternoon and she was arriving at Mrs. Bookman’s house for the poetry party. When Mrs. Bookman opened the door, she spoke in rhyme.
Welcome, my dear,
So glad to have you here!
Would you like a treat?
Perhaps something sweet?
Please come and sit.
We’ll begin in a bit!
In her dream, Daisy the poet thought of many wonderful responses.
Thanks a bunch,
I’d love a munch!
I can’t wait.
This is great!
But when she opened her mouth, all that came out was a simple “Thank you,” as she grabbed a treat. The other poets were gathered in the living room, and they were all speaking in rhyme, too. One of the women wore large glasses and a beautiful shawl. Another had a flower tucked behind one ear and her hair piled on top of her head. And one of the men had on a vest and a bow tie. In her dream, Daisy sat down, feeling rather small as the poets wove their words into lovely poems around her.
Chapter Two
The next morning, Daisy couldn’t wait to tell Emma about the poetry party. She rushed through breakfast and was waiting when Emma came down the street.
“Mrs. Bookman invited me to a poetry party on Saturday,” Daisy said as they headed to school. “I’m excited but really nervous. I even made up a new word — poetrified. It means being petrified about poetry.”
“That should definitely go on your Made-Up Words list,” Emma said. “But why are you so scared?” Daisy told Emma the strange dream about the rhyming Mrs. Bookman.
“I don’t think you have to worry,” Emma said. “My mom is in Mrs. Bookman’s poetry group, and she writes lots of different kinds of poems. Her favorites are haiku poems. They don’t rhyme at all.”
“Really?” Daisy asked.
“Yes,” Emma assured her. “You count the syllables in each line of the poem, but you don’t have to make them rhyme.”
“I don’t know how to count syllables either! Maybe I just shouldn’t go,” Daisy said.
“You should go,” Emma encouraged her. “My mom says that counting syllables is like counting beats — just — like — this.” Emma demonstrated by tapping out three beats for the words just, like, this, against her leg. “Anyway, Mrs. Bookman wouldn’t have invited you unless she thought you’d like it.”
Daisy was quiet for a minute. She supposed Emma was right. Mrs. Bookman knew Daisy and wouldn’t expect her to be a poetry expert. Daisy sighed.
“Okay, I’ll go,” she said. “But what should I wear?”
“My mom wears regular clothes when she meets with the poetry group,” Emma said.
“But this isn’t just a regular meeting. It’s a party,” Daisy pointed out. “I think I should look a little special.”
“How about your new beret and your sparkly flower necklace?” Emma suggested.
“Coolio!” Daisy said. It was one of the words she and Emma had made up together, and it meant that something was really great. Daisy was relieved to have a plan, and she started to look forward to the party again.
When the girls arrived at school, their teacher could barely wait for her students to take their seats. “I have an idea!” Miss Goldner announced.
Daisy an
d Emma looked at each other with excitement. Miss Goldner’s ideas were always great. That’s because she was the best teacher ever and liked having fun almost as much as her students did. Daisy especially loved Miss Goldner’s dance breaks. She seemed to know when her students couldn’t sit still and concentrate on schoolwork anymore. She’d stop whatever it was they were doing and announce that it was time for a dance break. Music would fill the room as the students and Miss Goldner spun and twirled. Daisy wondered if Miss Goldner would suggest a daylong dance break or a students-versus-teachers dance contest.
“As all of you know, I’m getting married this summer and moving away. I won’t be teaching here next year.” Miss Goldner’s eyes got a little misty. “So I wanted to come up with something really special we could do to celebrate how great this year has been. Instead of the usual Open House night for the end of the school year, let’s have a Student Showcase! I will still put out your artwork and completed assignments, so your families can see what we’ve done this year. But I also want them to see all your special talents! For example, Roberto might want to demonstrate how to solve math problems.”
All the students nodded in agreement, because Roberto really was terrific at math.
“But it doesn’t have to be only school subjects that we showcase,” Miss Goldner continued. “I want parents to know about the things you do outside of school, too. Emma can do ballet, if she would like.”
“Yes!” Emma said quickly, confirming that she would like that very much.
Miss Goldner put up a large, glittery poster she had made to announce the showcase. “We’ll have such a big night!” she exclaimed, as she put in the last tack.
Then it was time for spelling, but with all the excitement, even Daisy had a hard time keeping her mind focused on words.
At recess, all the kids were talking about the showcase. “I’m going to have a geography corner with a map of the world,” Kevin said. “I’ll ask people to point to a country, any one they want, and I’ll tell them the capital city.”
The other students knew this was something Kevin really liked and was very good at doing.
“Maybe I can show everyone my handball serve,” Samantha said. Daisy and Emma liked that idea. Samantha did have a powerful serve.
“What will you do, Daisy?” Samantha asked.
Daisy had been thinking about the big night, but she didn’t have any ideas yet. “I’ll think of something,” she said. She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.
Chapter Three
The next day was Saturday, and Daisy woke up still wondering what she should do for the showcase. But she decided she’d better put it out of her mind, so she could concentrate on getting ready for the poetry party.
With her mother’s help, she was making her special, large, circle cookies to take to Mrs. Bookman’s house. When they were out of the oven and cooling, Daisy sat for a minute, trying to decide how to decorate them. She would use at least three different colors of frosting, of course, but what design should she make?
The whole reason she loved making such big, round cookies was that there were so many ways to decorate them. One time, she had made them look like ladybugs, and another time, like flying saucers. As she sat thinking, she noticed her notebook open to her list of Favorite Rhyming Words. “That’s it!” she said.
She started by making some white frosting. When it was done, she divided it into three bowls. Then she worked hard making blue frosting. She added one drop of food coloring at a time and stirred carefully until the color exactly matched the little blue flowers on the invitation. Next, she added coloring to the other bowls until she had beautiful shades of yellow and pink. She put seven cookies out on the counter, because there would be six people at the party, and she thought it would be good to have one extra.
Daisy used a knife to cover half of each cookie with yellow frosting and half with pink. Then she put the blue frosting into a pastry bag. Daisy looked at her notebook and carefully piped the word sun onto the yellow part of one cookie. Keeping her hands as steady as possible, she wrote the word fun on the pink part of the same cookie. The next cookie got the words sweet and treat. Then Daisy wrote more of her favorite rhyming words on the cookie tops. Flower and power, bright and light, look and book. She didn’t want to repeat any words, so she added two new pairs to her list and then to her cookies — ring and sing, then yellow and mellow.
Attracted by the smell of the cookies and the promise of some frosting, Lily came bounding into the kitchen.
“These are pretty!” Lily said. “What do they say?”
Daisy read Lily the rhyming words. When she got to the cookie with the words flower and power on it, she noticed that she had smudged some of the letters.
“This one says, ‘Please eat me!’” Daisy said playfully. She broke the cookie in two and handed half to Lily. Her dad, who had just wandered in, got the other half. After dabbing a bit more frosting on her piece, Lily happily popped it into her mouth.
“Yummy!” she declared.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Dad agreed. “Any others that you want us to take off your hands?”
“Thanks, anyway,” Daisy said, shooing them away. She carefully decorated another cookie. When she was done, she cleaned up the kitchen and ate a quick lunch. Then it was time to get ready for the party.
First Daisy tried on her polka-dot dress and silver flats. Too fancy, she decided. Next she tried an all-black outfit — a flouncy skirt, long-sleeved black T-shirt and black tights. Too dark, she thought. Finally, she put on her favorite dress, a simple yellow one with a zipper up the front. She added her new purple beret and her favorite sparkly flower necklace. “Poetry perfect!” she declared to her image in the mirror.
Lily helped Daisy place her word cookies on a large platter. Daisy was at the front door with the platter in her hands when Lily called out, “Don’t forget your notebook!”
“I don’t think I’ll need it,” Daisy said.
“But you take it everywhere,” Lily reminded her.
Before Daisy could reply, Lily picked up the notebook and tucked it under Daisy’s arm.
“There,” Lily said. “Now you’re ready.”
Daisy giggled and headed out the door.
Chapter Four
Even though Lily had made her giggle and Emma had been reassuring, Daisy was still poetrified. As she walked up to Mrs. Bookman’s door, she became even more nervous. How was she going to ring the doorbell with her hands full of cookies and her notebook wedged under her arm? She thought for a minute and then used her elbow.
“Daisy! Let me help you with that,” Mrs. Bookman said as she took the platter and ushered Daisy into the kitchen.
“This is Daisy,” Mrs. Bookman said, setting the platter down and making introductions. “Daisy, this is Shirley and this is Joan.”
Daisy noticed Shirley’s big smile and short, curly hair.
“I love your necklace,” Shirley said.
“Thank you. Your scarf is pretty,” Daisy replied, pointing to the scarf looped around Shirley’s neck.
Joan, who was the tallest person there, was helping to arrange the food. She gave Daisy a friendly wave.
“This is Sam,” Mrs. Bookman said, pointing to the only man in the room. Even though Sam didn’t look any older than Daisy’s dad, Daisy noticed that his cap was like the one her grandfather used to wear. It had a small visor and was made out of tweedy fabric. It made him look a bit old-fashioned, Daisy thought.
“And you know Emma’s mom,” Mrs. Bookman continued. Daisy gave Emma’s mom a little hug.
“Let’s all get a treat before we sit down,” Mrs. Bookman said.
Daisy suddenly remembered her dream. When she realized that Mrs. Bookman wasn’t speaking in rhyme, Daisy let out a big sigh of relief and began to relax.
Everyone admired Daisy’s word
cookies. “How clever!” Shirley said.
“Daisy is very fond of words,” Mrs. Bookman explained to her guests. Daisy relaxed a little more. When everyone had a treat and something to drink, they headed out to the patio.
“Who wants to start?” Mrs. Bookman asked. Daisy wasn’t sure what was supposed to get started, so she decided she would just sit quietly and listen.
“I will,” said Joan. “I’ve been working on this poem for such a long time, but I can’t find the right word to end it. I have spent so many days thinking about this one word.”
Daisy couldn’t believe what she had heard! “You spent how long thinking about one word?” Daisy asked, forgetting her plan to keep quiet.
“Well, I guess about two weeks,” Joan said. “That must sound silly to you. I want it to be just right and …”
“That’s fantastic!” Daisy blurted out.
Joan looked surprised but pleased.
“I thought I was the only one who thought about every word so carefully,” Daisy explained.
“Do you write a lot of poems?” Shirley asked.
“Not really,” Daisy said, turning her notebook over in her hands. She wasn’t quite sure what to say next.
Mrs. Bookman jumped in to help. “Daisy makes wonderful word lists,” she said. “She collects all sorts of words that interest her. Maybe she’ll share some with us later.”
Daisy nodded, although she still felt a bit unsure. She turned her attention to Joan, who had started reading her poem. It was about a bird nesting outside her window. The last line of the poem was about the author settling in for sleep and seeing the little bird doing the same.
“I whispered a soft good-night,” Joan read. Then she explained her concern. “Good-night just seems too flat, too ordinary, but I can’t think of anything else.”
Daisy's Big Night Page 1
