Dot's Lot
Written by mary ann mitchell, Illustrated by Sharon Grey,
Page 1
Once upon a time, in a lovely lot just outside the town of Worthy, in the state of Perfection, there grew a most unusual dandelion. Her name was Dot.
Page 2
Her lot was filled with wild flowers and other dandelions and lots of creepy, crawly animals. It was a pretty great place to live. But Dot was not satisfied with her lot.
It wasn't really the place she didn't like, it was what happened to her and to all her dandelion buds every spring. From the tip of her roots to the top of her blossom, Dot resented her fate.
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"It's not fair!" Dot shouted to all the dandelions within earshot. "Humans have no right to wish on us and blow us away."
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Dot was considered a little daffy by the older dandelions. But the young ones were beginning to wonder?
Some began growing in clumps, whispering back and forth, and before you knew it, they were holding rallies every night.
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Dot's speeches turned them into an angry mob. The tips of their heads glowed red in the moonlight as she spoke. With wild gestures and loud exclamations, she told them, "Look around! The other flowers aren't wished on and blown away. Let's demand our rights!"
And the mob shouted,
"Yeah!"
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One daisy hollered, "That's not true! What about this? He loves me, he loves me not. My whole family was wiped out by that piece of nonsense."
She had a point, so they let her join them.
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And they got to work making placards and placed them around the lot.
You couldn't see the flowers for the signs when they were done.
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The elders were annoyed by these shenanigans but didn't try to stop them.
"Human beings do a lot of dumb things," said Eli, the wisest dandelion, "like polluting the water and air and land. But wishing on dandelion's, as long as it doesn't get out of hand, is sort of sweet, and weed wishes are always innocent."
"Oh, sweet and innocent, that's a lotta hooey," muttered Spike, one young rebel.
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"Well," said Eli, "if you've got no romance in that spiky blossom of yours, think about this: If we don't play our part, the children might stop wishing."
"That's not my problem."
Spike spat back.
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"Oh, yes it is!"
Eli straightened his old bent stem and leaned on his leafy staff.
"The wishes of children are seeds of what's to come. Without wishes it wouldn't be much fun. And if wishes go, so do the dandelions."
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There was a long silence. Eli had struck a lost chord in the hearts of some of the young rebels. But before any of them could change their minds, they heard the children of Worthy coming from school.
It was the first day of spring.
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Panic broke out in the lot. "What shall we do?"
"Oh, dear! Here they come."
But it was too late. The children of Worthy ran to the field of dandelions and stopped, stock still, in front of the jungle of signs.
"What do they say?" asked the littlest. "The dandelions don't want us here." Said her big brother, Matthew.
The children stared silently.
The dandelions stared silently back.
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Then the children turned and made their slow and wishless walk back home to Worthy.
It was a long, lonely spring for the dandelions, and for the children, too. And the next spring was even longer and lonelier, as Eli predicted.
As the years passed, the town of Worthy grew into a big city. Soon an enormous building was built on what used to be Dot's Lot.
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The children of Worthy played on concrete playgrounds now, and lived in concrete apartment buildings, and didn't remember what a dandelion was.
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One day, a little boy chased a ball over a concrete wall and found himself behind the tall building on Dot's old lot. Through a crack in the cement, grew one lonely dandelion. And the little boy bent down to see what it was.
"Pick me, Matthew," Dot whispered. "What?" Said the boy, surprised that a plant could talk, and even more surprised that it knew his name."What are you?" Matt asked.
"I'm a dandelion."
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And Dot told Matthew the story of the lot and the day the flowers went on strike. Matt's face lit up when he heard Dot's story, and he said, "My Grandpa told me. His name is Matthew, too. He was there that day the flowers sent the children away. Wait! I'll be right back."
Matt and his Grandpa were back before Dot could fluff up her old gray blossom. They both bent down to hear her weak request.
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Little Matt thought Dot was beautiful, and he gently picked her and cupped his hand around her fluffy head so she wouldn't blow away. Grandpa drove them out of the city, and when they came to a pretty little hillside, he stopped the truck.
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Matt ran ahead to the top of the hill. "Is this the spot?"
"It's perfect." Dot whispered. "Now will you grant my wish?"
"Can't I just plant you in the ground?"
Matt stalled and stared at his shoes.
"No, no," Dot coaxed, a little impatient. "Just make a wish and blow. Next spring, I promise, the hill will be covered with dots of dandelions! Then you can come and bring all your friends and make wishes, and we'll carry them to the place where wishes come true."
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Matt looked up at his Grandpa, who grinned and said, "Go ahead."
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Then Matt held tight to Dot's stem and closed his eyes and wished with all his might that what Dot said was true.
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And then he blew.
