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Maria’s Plans

Maria stared thoughtfully across the garden at the tree fort. It was the first thing her grandfather had built for her. She had been little—it was before her younger brothers had been born—but she could remember Grandpa working on it, standing on a ladder, out in the sun alone.

Of all her siblings, Maria felt that she was most like her grandfather. Grandpa had been a carpenter. Maria had always loved visiting him in his barn. She would spend hours watching him saw, sand and hammer. Only she had been allowed because she was the oldest. He could do anything with his own two hands, she thought proudly.

Recently, Maria had decided that she was going to build a tree swing. When Maria had told her grandmother, she had said that Grandpa would have been proud. Maria had beamed.

She still hadn’t figured everything out. But she had built the seat and bought the ropes. Now she was standing underneath the tree, with her rope, seat and tools, thinking about the best way to hang the whole contraption. She could throw the ropes over the branch. But then how would she tie the knot? She would probably need to fetch the ladder. She wished she could ask Grandpa for help.

‘Hey,’ called a voice from a little distance away. Maria turned and saw her little brother Ricardo sprinting towards her. She waved him away. He ran up to her anyway.

‘What’re you doing?’ Ricardo asked, panting.

‘None of your business,’ she replied. Then, thinking better of it, she said, ‘Making a swing.’ 

‘Really? By yourself?’ Ricardo asked. Maria nodded proudly. ‘Like Grandpa,’ said Ricardo. A look of awe came over his face. ‘Can I help?’

Maria thought it over—it would be nice to have some help. But she was the builder in the family now, so she would have to solve her own problems. ‘No,’ Maria said. ‘I don’t need any help.’

Suddenly, her other brother, Emil, came running towards them. Maria frowned. ‘Hey, what’re you guys doing?’ Emil yelled.

‘We’re building a swing,’ Ricardo said.

‘No, we’re not,’ Maria said, clenching her fists. ‘I am!’

‘Can I help?’ Emil asked.

‘No!’ Maria was turning red. ‘This is my project. Not yours. You barely even knew Grandpa.’ She stormed off towards the house, leaving Ricardo, Emil and her materials beneath the tree.

Maria stomped into the kitchen, where her grandmother was preparing lunch. ‘What’s wrong, Maria?’

‘Ricardo and Emiliano are bothering me,’ Maria said, flopping down in a chair. She explained the situation to her grandmother.

‘They’re just trying to help. And how are you going to hang that swing all by yourself? Who’s going to help you carry the ladder? Who’s going to hold it for you?’

‘Grandpa didn’t need anyone’s help,’ Maria snapped.

Maria’s grandmother let out a snort and arched an eyebrow. ‘Who do you think helped him cut the boards for your tree fort? Who helped him sand it and paint it?’

Maria was confused. ‘But I don’t remember . . .’

‘Maria, Grandpa was a great carpenter, but even great carpenters need help sometimes. Whenever he was feeling overwhelmed or needed a second pair of hands, he’d ask me to chip in.’ Her grandmother glanced out the window and smiled. ‘And it looks like you have help, too.’

Maria stood up and hurried outside. Ricardo and Emil were carrying the ladder from the barn. Emil turned his head and grinned, waving at Maria.

Smiling, she began to wonder if she might not be the only one to take after Grandpa.