Bea and the Bridge of Buttons

Bea loved the long, thin crack in the pavement outside her apartment building. To her blue toy bus, it was a tiny canyon. The bus could roll along one side, but it could not cross.

“Bump!” said Bea every time the bus reached the crack.

One Saturday, Bea lined up her buttons: one big yellow button, three smooth green buttons, and a shiny red one with a silver edge. “I’ll make a bridge,” she said.

She laid the buttons across the crack. The blue bus rolled onto the yellow button, tipped sideways, and plopped into a flowerpot.

Bea picked it up. “Too bumpy.”

She found two flat pieces of cereal-box cardboard. One piece covered the crack nicely. The bus rolled over it—until a breeze lifted a corner. The bus slid back. “Bump!”

Bea sat on the step and studied the buttons. The big yellow one had four holes. “Holes can hold things,” she said.

She asked Dad to help. Inside, they used a hole punch to make small holes in the cardboard. Bea pushed soft yarn through the cardboard and through the yellow button. Underneath, she tied two neat bows.

The yellow button sat on top like a bright round roof. The cardboard stayed flat. Bea sent the blue bus across.

Rumble, rumble, rumble! It reached the other side.

Just then, Bea’s neighbor Sam came out with a tiny red car. “Can my car try?” he asked.

Bea moved the bridge to the middle of the crack. “Yes. The car goes after the bus.”

The blue bus crossed. The red car crossed. Then Sam brought a little wooden duck on wheels. It crossed too, wobbling its yellow beak all the way.

Soon, the crack was not a canyon. It was the crossing place, where buses, cars, and ducks waited beneath a button roof.

Bea looked at the yarn bows. “It took two tries,” she said.

“And one very good button,” said Sam.

Bea grinned and drove her bus across again.