Athena And The Dandelions

Athena And The Dandelions

- L. Zouras

Have you ever eaten a dandelion?

Me neither.

Have you ever blown dandelion seeds to make a wish?

Me, too.

“Time to go, Athena,” Mama said from the sidewalk. She held open the car door.

I toed the sidewalk and swung my book. She knew I didn’t eat dandelions. Why did I have to pick them with my family every spring?

“Baba and Yia-yia are waiting,” she said.

My father and grandmother smiled from the front seats of the car.

I turned and waved to Sameera, the girl who’d moved in across the street.

She stood and watched. I was glad she didn’t ask where we were going.

We rode into the country, not too far from our house just outside the city. I set down my book and tilted my face to the warm breeze. I told the wind, “I hope we’re not there yet.”

I had never seen anyone in the field with us, but I always worried that someone would notice us picking dandelions. People in America yanked dandelions from their lawns. No one wanted them. What would the new neighbors think if they found out our family ate weeds?

We drove west until the houses stopped. Then we stopped.

I wished Baba would turn the car around so we could go home.