Cousin Rafi and the Jar on the Porch
When Cousin Rafi flew in for a two-week visit, Imani had a long list of things to show him. There was the creek, the skate park, and the ice cream stand with forty flavors. Unfortunately, it rained for four days straight, and Imani flopped on the sofa and sighed at the ceiling.
Rafi, however, sat on the porch steps and watched the sky as if it were a movie. He explained that it hardly ever rains where he lives. Some summers pass without a single good storm. "Well, you are welcome to mine," Imani muttered.
Rafi laughed, then fetched an empty pickle jar from the recycling bin and asked for a ruler and some tape. He fastened the ruler up the side of the jar and set it at the edge of the porch, where the roof would not drip into it. Now they could measure exactly how much water came down.
Imani rolled her eyes, but she wrote the first number in a notebook anyway. Before long she was checking the jar every hour while Rafi sketched a chart. They discovered that the rain fell fastest in the early afternoon and nearly stopped around suppertime.
On the fifth morning the sun finally appeared, and Imani gazed at the dripping yard with a strange feeling of disappointment. "We should keep the jar," she said. "Rain is more interesting when you count it." Rafi grinned. The creek would be completely full by now.