The Borrowed Bicycle Bell
Marguerite's bicycle bell was the loudest on the block. It had a bright, silver ring that echoed down the street, and she had saved her allowance for three months to buy it. So when her friend Hiro asked to borrow it for the weekend parade, she hesitated.
"I'll be careful," Hiro promised. "I'll treat it like glass."
But on Sunday afternoon, a pothole bounced his bike, and the bell flew off and hit the curb. When Hiro picked it up, the little dome was dented, and the ring had changed into a dull clunk.
All evening, Hiro felt sick. He thought about hiding the bell in a drawer and saying he had lost it. Instead, he walked to Marguerite's house with the bell wrapped in a sock.
"I broke it," he said, and he handed it over. "I'm really sorry. I'll pay for a new one, even if it takes all summer."
Marguerite held the dented bell. She was upset, and she did not pretend that she wasn't. But she also noticed that Hiro had not run away from the problem.
"Thank you for telling me the truth," she said finally. "We'll fix it together. My uncle has a workshop."
On Saturday, her uncle tapped out the dent. The ring was not quite the same, but it was friendly, and it sounded a little like a laugh.