The C-Major Garden on Cedar Street

Little One and Pip, the pocket-sized robot, rolled a toy truck along the path behind Cedar Street Community Center. Behind a hedge, Little One spotted something odd: stems shaped like eighth notes, buds curled tight as commas. A small black foal with a purple mane and a golden star on the forehead peeked through the fence. "This garden grows notes," said the foal, "but only when someone shares a feeling." Then the foal trotted away. Little One stared at the silent, closed buds.

Little One tried humming a happy tune. Nothing. Little One tried whistling a speedy race-car song. The buds stayed shut. Pip beeped softly and blinked a green light. "Maybe it needs a different kind of song," Little One whispered. But Little One felt a wobbly feeling in the chest—a nervous flutter about reading aloud in class tomorrow. Little One didn't want to say it out loud. The toy truck's wheels spun in the dirt.