Nobody Knew

There is a green bench in a small park in Boston, near the river. Every morning, before seven, somebody leaves flowers on it. Nobody knows who. Nobody has ever seen the person.

Everybody in the neighborhood has an idea. The man who runs the coffee shop thinks it's a sad old woman. The woman who walks three dogs thinks it's a young man who is in love. The children think it's a ghost.

Mia is eleven, and she doesn't believe in ghosts. She lives in a building which looks over the park. One Saturday, she set her alarm for five o'clock, took her grandfather's binoculars and sat by the window.

At five forty, the park was empty. At six, a jogger went past the bench, but he didn't stop. At six twenty, someone came through the gate. It was a small person with a big coat and a bag.

Mia ran downstairs in her pajamas. The person was already walking away. "Excuse me!" Mia shouted. The person turned around. It was a boy, maybe nine years old. He had nothing in his hands now.

"My grandma sat on that bench every day," the boy said. "She died in the spring. I take the flowers from her garden. If nobody takes care of the garden, the flowers die too." Mia didn't tell anyone. But the next morning, there were two bunches of flowers on the bench.