Emma nodded.

She didn’t speak.

She reached into the front pocket of her bag and pulled out a folded piece of thick construction paper.

“I made this for you,” Emma whispered.

She handed me the paper.

I sat down next to her on the quilt and unfolded it.

It was a crayon drawing of a huge blue motor yacht docked at a wooden pier.

Emma had drawn bright yellow lines in the sky for the sun.