A Sunny House with Big Smiles
Little Tara lived in a cheerful cottage with yellow walls. A soft breeze blew through the open window. Stepmother Maya hummed a sweet tune in the kitchen. Stepsisters Rupa and Meena folded colorful cloth bags on the rug. The village flower fair was today, and Tara wanted everyone to match. She wanted four pretty flower garlands so they could look like a real team. Tara skipped out into the garden with a wicker basket. Bees buzzed gently over the bright yellow marigolds. Buzz, buzz, went the happy bees! Tara picked a heap of orange and golden blossoms. The petals felt cool and velvety on her small hands. Her stepmother waved from the porch and smiled kindly. Tara sat down under a shady neem tree. She took out a long spool of brown jute twine to begin.
The Stiff Twine Snaps
Snap went the rough brown twine in Tara's hands! The heavy marigold blossoms rolled across the dry path. Plip, plop, they fell into the dust. Tara sighed, and her small shoulders drooped down. Stepsister Rupa walked outside and saw the messy ground. Rupa wore a bright blue dress, and she shook her head. "The rough string is too stiff, Tara," Rupa said softly. Tara tried again with another thick cord. She pushed the big needle through a round marigold. Ouch! A prickly stem poked her thumb. The thick thread pulled too tightly, and the petals broke into little pieces. Yellow bits scattered all over Tara's pink frock. Rupa bent down and helped pick up the fallen petals. Tara looked at the empty basket, and tears welled in her eyes. Making four lovely garlands alone felt far too hard.
Soft Silk and Helping Hands
Stepsister Meena ran out with a bright silver bowl. "Look what I found!" Meena called out happily. Inside the bowl rested soft, snowy jasmine buds. They smelled sweet, warm, and gentle. Stepmother Maya followed behind with shiny spools of green silk thread. "We can do this together," Maya said with a warm smile. Stepmother Maya sat on the porch rug, and the three girls gathered around her. The silk thread felt slippery, smooth, and snug between their fingers. Meena held the shiny thread steady, and Rupa carefully lined up the jasmine buds. Click, click, went the gentle rhythm of their nimble fingers. Tara slipped the fragrant white flowers onto the silk one by one. The jasmine smelled like warm honey and fresh rain. Soon, four long, beautiful garlands rested across their laps.
