Bennett

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 * JUAN**

I had never seen a garden that big. I was walking down Gibb Street and that’s when I saw it. It had lettuce, corn, eggplants… everything. I walked over to the lot; I just had to get a closer look. I walked over to a patch of tomatoes. A boy jumped out from behind a pile of junk with a giant pitchfork. “I wasn’t going to take any,” I said, frightfully, “I was just admiring these plants.” “That’s fine, but I swear, if you take one tomato,” said the boy. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Royce, what’s it to ya?” he said. He then walked back behind the junk. What a strange boy, I thought. When I got home I told Mama about the garden. She gave me a great idea… to grow black beans. She said, “If you grow ‘em, I’ll make burritos for you and yo’ sister.” That same day I walked down to Fell’s Market and bought some black bean seeds. I walked to the garden the next day. I saw lots of people hovering around their plants. When I walked into the garden, I felt a few eyes turn toward me but I was used to it. When you have Down’s-Syndrome, people look at you like you’re from a different planet. I ignored the staring and found a clear spot to plant my beans. A friendly looking man wearing a hat walked over to where I was standing. “Looks like you could use some help,” he said, “I’m Wendell.” “Thanks,” I said, “but I don’t need any help… I’ve done this before.” The man said okay and walked off to another part of the garden where a little girl was digging. As I had just finished planting my beans, a girl that looked my age, about thirteen, walked over to me. “Hi,” she said, “I’m Christine.” “Hello, I’m Juan.” I replied. She was Spanish, just like me. She had short brown hair and wore a red dress. She noticed that I was planting black beans. “Those are my favorite,” she said. “Mine, too,” I said. “I grow hot peppers,” she said, “over there.” She pointed to a patch of Jalapeño peppers. They looked very healthy. I later found out that she lived across the street from me. She gave me a few tips on growing beans and I gave her a few tips on growing peppers. Christine and I became great friends and met at the garden every day. “My beans are almost done growing,” I said one day, “do you want to come over for burritos tomorrow? We are cookin’ them with these beans.” “That would be great,” Christine said. The next day we met up at the garden as usual and we picked my beans. We put them in little baskets and then walked to my house. When we got there, she said, “Thanks for inviting me, Juan. My family almost never has burritos… it’s always quesadilla… yuck! I am so sick of them.” “No problem,” I replied, “you can come over any time.” Christine met my Mom and my sister, Flora. We ate our burritos and watched scary movies. It was a lot of fun. I finally had a best friend.