“Thank you,” Allie said. “Some of our new folks in town were really keen to contribute.”
The principal’s smile faded a bit, but shenodded gamely.
Sugarville Grove was an old and beautiful town in rural Vermont, with many families who had been here since its founding, Allie’s included.
But in recent years, more and more families from out of the area had started moving in, drawn by the fresh air, good schools, and peaceful vistas. In Allie’s experience, a lot of them were lovely people who were grateful to be part of the community.
But there were plenty of locals who resented the new arrivals for pushing up housing prices and filling any empty storefront with some kind of store that was fancy enough to be called ashoppeor, heaven forbid, aboutique. The old-timers called these newcomersflatlanders,since they weren’t from the mountains of Vermont.
Even Allie had to admit that she had been in line behind an angry customer or two in her travels who expected things in her sleepy little town to happen at a big-city pace.
But in her experience, people were just people. There were plenty of grumps among the farmers who had been in town for generations, and there were lots of lovely newcomers who made the town a better place. Allie tended to give people the benefit of the doubt.
And she was glad for it, becausewowhad a lot of their new townsfolk come through during the fundraiser. Bringing a little bit of money into the town wasn’t always a bad thing.
“As a matter of fact,” Allie went on. “I think we finally have enough to invest in something that I believe will serve the kids really well.”
She handed Principal Chittenden the brochure shehad been carrying around with her teaching stuff for a couple of years now.
It felt strange to put her dream in another person’s hands, the brochure looked so small, and the fold was worn from all the times Allie had opened it up to gaze at the images inside.
But from this point on, it was going to take more than one person to champion her idea if she ever wanted it to actually come true.
“Look at that,” Principal Chittenden said with a wistful smile. “A greenhouse is a lovely idea, Allie.”
“The kids are going to love it,” Allie told her, her heart speeding up at the principal’s approval. “We can make sureallour students know where their food comes from. They’ll get their hands dirty, get some fresh air, and come back to the classroom with so many great ideas and so much more focus.”
“It’s a lovely idea,” Principal Chittenden said again.
Allie could feel abutcoming.
Please let her see it my way…
“Unfortunately, Allie,” Principal Chittenden said. “A project like this has more than a one-time cost. The maintenance on a greenhouse means we would need ongoing donations. And we can’t be sure how generous the community will be year over year. I’ve seen too many big ideas like this fall by the wayside once the bloom was off the rose, to borrow a gardening idiom. People love to move on to the next new thing.”
Allie sighed.
Of course the principal was right. It was hard enough to know whether they would even have thefunding they needed to cover the usual annual expenses. Adding a greenhouse to the aging infrastructure of the school building probably was a burden they shouldn’t take on. In all her daydreaming, she hadn’t really thought about it like that.
“If I could guarantee ongoing donations, would you consider it?” she heard herself ask.
“Oh, Allie,” the principal said.
“Just today I moved desks around in my classroom,” she went on. “We did breaks with movement activities between lessons and it really seemed to help out with some of my more wiggly students. Getting outside would be even better. And you know that’s tough in the wintertime.”
“Well, if you couldguaranteeongoing donations then of course there would be nothing to say butyes,” the principal said, handing her back the brochure. “But I’m not sure how you could do that.”
Allie wasn’t sure either. And somehow the brochure, which had seemed to almost tingle with magic from the first time she had held it in her hands felt like no more than a crumpled bit of paper now.
“Speaking of your students,” Principal Chittenden said. “I’m glad you stopped by. Apparently, little Maya Tailor shoved another student in the bus line yesterday.”
“I heard that something happened,” Allie said, thinking back to Victoria’s tattling this morning.
“Well, the other child’s parents are unhappy,” Principal Chittenden said. “There’s going to be a meeting today after school. You aren’t responsible for the studentsafter they’re dismissed from your classroom, of course, but I’d like for you to be there.”
“Of course I’ll be there,” Allie said right away. She certainly wasn’t going to let Maya be thrown to the wolves.
“Thank you for that,” Principal Chittenden said fondly. “Your heart is always,alwaysin the right place, Allie Lawrence.”
