A Rose for Sarah

Little Sarah was up late. She usually went to bed at eight, but tonight it was already after nine-thirty, and she was still wide awake, and very busy.

"Where's the jam?" she called from the kitchen, "I can't find the jam Mum!"

Her mother came to help.

"Right in front of you," she said.

"Oh!" said Sarah.

She laid the bread out along the bench and began to spread the jam.

And just as she started to do this, her father came home.

He was tired, and in a bad mood.

"What a day!" he said, "I need a cup of tea," and then he saw Sarah. "Hello?" he said, "Still up? You should have been in bed hours ago."

"I know," said Sarah, "But..."

"Don't give me excuses, get going!"

Sarah stood beside her row of half-buttered, half-jammed slices of bread and tried to explain why she was still up, but her father was angry.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it, understand!" he said, "Now get!"

Sarah ran from the room and went upstairs to her bedroom. She started to cry as she got undressed and fell into bed. Her tears made spots on the pillow.

Sarah's mother came into the kitchen to see what all the growling was about.

"Why did you send Sarah to bed?" she asked.

"Because its late. She shouldn't be up at this hour," said Dad, annoyed.

"But she's got a School trip tomorrow. She wanted to make her own lunch. She was so excited!"

"I didn't know that," said Dad.

He sat down beside the kitchen table and considered, then he got up again and went upstairs. When he got to Sarah's room, he knocked gently.