Addi’s Dream Runs True

The summer sun warmed Addi’s face as he raced across the small yard, his old sneakers tapping the ground.

“Faster!” he called to himself.

He stretched his arms wide and imagined a stadium filled with cheering people. He could see himself running down a bright track, just like Usain Bolt. Cameras flashed. Gold medals shone around his neck. In his dream, people from many countries knew his name.

Then his father called from the front gate.

“Addi! Come and help with the town cleanup!”

Addi slowed to a stop. Summer break had begun, and he had hoped to spend the morning practicing starts and talking with his best friend, Jack. Still, he grabbed his water bottle and hurried outside.

“Will Jack be there?” Addi asked.

His father smiled. “Jack and John are helping too.”

That made Addi grin. The town community park was only a short walk away. It had a grassy field, a few tall trees, and a little track near the playground. Addi often ran there after school. Today, though, the park looked different.

Bags, boxes, rakes, and gloves covered the grass. Leaves lay in piles near the benches. The air smelled of warm dirt and fresh-cut grass. People moved around, talking and laughing as they cleaned.

Addi searched the busy park.

“Where is Jack?” he asked.

“First, help me carry these bags,” his father said.

Addi picked up two empty bags. They were light, but the sun was already hot on his shoulders. He carried them to a table near the playground, then hurried back for more.

He looked toward the trees each time he passed. No Jack.

A loud scrape came from the far side of the park. Someone pulled a rake across the ground. A wheelbarrow squeaked. Birds chirped above the noise.

Addi tried to listen for Jack’s voice, but the park was too busy.

He carried a box of old cans toward the recycling area. The box bumped against his knees.

“Careful,” his father said. “Take your time.”

Addi set the box down and wiped his forehead. Sweat made his hair stick to his skin.

“I wanted to talk to Jack about running,” he said.

“You will,” his father answered. “There is plenty of time.”

Addi looked at the track beyond the fence. The white lines seemed to shine in the sun. He pictured himself racing there while Jack watched from the side.

Then a gust of wind pushed a pile of dry leaves across the path.

“Addi, can you help move these?” his father asked.

Addi picked up a rake. He pulled it through the leaves, but the pile spread apart instead of growing. He tried again, using both hands. This time, the leaves gathered into a neat mound.

A small brown leaf landed on his arm.

“Even leaves are slowing me down,” Addi said.

His father chuckled. “The park needs you today.”

Addi wanted to complain, but he saw the clean path behind him. It looked better already. He pulled the rake again.

After a while, he heard a familiar laugh.

“Addi!”

He turned so quickly that the rake nearly fell from his hands.

Jack stood near the big tree with his father, John. Jack wore a yellow shirt and carried a pair of gloves. His cheeks were pink from the heat.

“Jack!” Addi called. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I have been looking too,” Jack said. “John asked me to help near the benches.”

John lifted a bag. “We are taking these to the bins.”

Addi pointed toward the shade beneath the tree. “Can we talk there for a minute?”

John looked at the busy park. “After this bag is full.”

Addi and Jack worked quickly. They picked up paper cups, dry twigs, and small pieces of cardboard. The ground felt warm through Addi’s sneakers. The bag grew heavier in their hands.

At last, John tied it closed.

“Now you may take a short rest,” he said. “Stay where I can see you.”

Addi and Jack walked beneath the tree. The shade felt cool on Addi’s face. He sat on the soft grass and took a long drink of water. Jack sat beside him, wiping sweat from his brow.

“I had a dream about running,” Addi said. “I was in a huge race. Everyone knew me.”

Jack smiled. “You always dream big.”

“I want to become a world-famous track star like Usain Bolt,” Addi said. “He came from a small place too. If he could do it, maybe I can.”

Jack rolled a blade of grass between his fingers. “Maybe. But it must be hard work.”

“It is,” Addi said. “I will practice every day. I will watch races, listen to good runners, and focus on every step.”

“Every day?” Jack asked.

“Every day I can.”

Jack looked toward the track. “What if you get tired?”

Addi glanced at the rake resting nearby. His arms felt tired already. His shirt clung to his back, and his legs wanted to stay in the shade.

“I might get tired,” he admitted. “But I can begin with a little practice. I can focus on one thing at a time.”

Jack nodded slowly. “Like focusing on picking up one piece of paper at a time?”

Addi laughed. “Exactly. We can practice focus exercises. Stand still, look at one spot, then run when we are ready. We can repeat it until we get better.”

Jack seemed interested. “Could we try now?”

Addi stood....