Page 85 of Pride High 2: Orange
“Oh. I guess crops don’t care if it’s a holiday.”
“Actually,” Keisha said with a smirk, “we tend to harvest those in the fall. You know, before they freeze and wither?”
“I knew that,” Silvia said with a blush. “We have a little garden behind our trailer. We grow our own food. I just forgot because…” She trailed off, not wanting to admit how flustered she felt.
Keisha wasn’t willing to let her off the hook. She simply glanced over with raised eyebrows as if awaiting an answer.
“I figured you’d still grow things in the winter,” Silvia said. “Frozen peas, for instance.”
Keisha laughed. “That’s a good idea. And you’re right, we do keep growing in the greenhouse. Kansas is nice and sunny in the winter. And there’s plenty of other work to do. Like helping Santa deliver his presents.”
Silvia waited for her to laugh. Instead she sighed as if worn out by the prospect.
“Is he as nice as everyone says?” Silvia asked.
“Even nicer. Although folks around here are often surprised that he’s black.”
Silvia experienced a jolt of memory. She remembered sitting on Santa’s lap as a kid and thinking the same thing. They still had the photo, if she wasn’t mistaken. That had been one of the best Christmases ever. Especially when… “I got to meet his reindeer once. Although there were only two of them. And they were girls, so they had different names.”
“Ruby and Pearl?” Keisha asked.
“Yes!” Silvia said, sitting upright in surprise, even though the seatbelt held her back. How could Keisha possibly know that? Silvia remembered riding a sleigh, being inside a big barn that was decorated like Santa’s workshop, and laughing as her parents tried to sing along to carols in English while getting most of the words wrong. “Your farm is open on Christmas?”
“And almost every other holiday,” Keisha said with a nod. “I take it you’ve been there?”
“I must have! When I was little. We might have visited more than once, because I remember begging my parents to go there again.”
“That’s what we love to hear,” Keisha said proudly.
Silvia reassessed her. “Youlikeworking on the holidays?"
“I like the work more than the timing,” Keisha said carefully.
“So you plan on being a farmer?”
Her answer was a resounding, “No! I’m grateful for everything my parents have given me. I respect the work they do. I only meant that it feels good to give something back. To the community.”
Silvia shook her head, still not understanding. “How exactly?”
“Most people who come visit us on the holidays are struggling to make ends meet. There’s no shame in that. It’s what a community is supposed to do. Provide for each other. So on special occasions, we’re happy to open our doors to anyone who needs it. For free.”
Silvia’s family had always struggled financially. But they rarely ever sought out charity. Her parents must have been desperate to make Christmas special that year. And they had. With the help of Keisha’s family. She’d simply never known it until now.
“Do you need volunteers?”
Keisha looked over in surprise. “Are you interested?”
“Yes,” Silvia said without hesitation. “Anything I can do.”
Keisha stared a moment longer before returning her eyes to the road. “That’s very nice of you. As mature as I pretend to be about it now, there were plenty of occasions in my youth that I wished my family was normal, so I wouldn’t have to do so much work.”
“I used to wish my family was normal too,” Silvia admitted. “But then, you and I wouldn’t be who we are. Would we?”
“I guess not. What time should I pick you up?”
“I can get a ride. How far away are you?”
“Ever heard of Hartland Farms? We spell it without the ‘e’ like my last name. Which must have seemed clever when my dad came up with it, but in practice, it means I’m always asking people to rewrite their checks.”
