It has been a busy week, and a lot has happened. The street children have started hanging around outside our bakery since Mama gave them food. They run when Papa goes outside, because they know he will scold them in a loud voice. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that we can’t have customers meeting beggars whenever they come to the bakery. They smell bad, too! I know that’s a rude thing to say, but it’s true. One girl told me her name was Lucero; she was very dirty and had skinny arms and legs. Her hair was a mess, and one front tooth was dark grey. She stopped me on my way home from school and I didn’t know what to do. But she grabbed my hand and put something in it, then ran away. It was a tiny flower, no bigger than my thumbnail, made of paper and picked with many holes to make a pattern on its petals. It was beautiful. Papa said she must have stolen it, but I believe she made it as a gift for our bread.