# Leo’s Moon Gallery

Leo loved to draw more than anything else in the world.

He drew at the kitchen table. He drew on the porch steps. He drew in the car while waiting for his dad. He drew with thick crayons and skinny pencils. He drew with chalk that dusted his fingers like powdered sugar.

When Leo drew, his face looked calm. His shoulders dropped. His breathing slowed down.

He liked drawing animals the best. He drew brave lions and tiny ants. He also loved drawing magical creatures—pegasuses and unicorns—because their wings and horns made his pictures feel full of sparkle, even if he only used a plain gray pencil.

“Someday,” Leo told his sketchbook, “I will be the greatest artist that ever lived.”

His sketchbook never argued. It just waited, page after page, like a quiet friend.

One morning at school, Leo’s teacher, Ms. Laila, clapped her hands.

“Class,” she said, “our town is having a Kindness Fair. We will each make something to share. It can be a song, a dance, a poem, or art.”

Leo’s heart did a happy hop.

He imagined a giant picture, taller than Ms. Laila’s desk. He imagined everyone staring and whispering, “Wow!”

Then he looked across the room.

On the carpet, a new student sat quietly. His name was Omar. He held a blank paper in his lap like it was heavy.

Leo noticed Omar’s mouth was pressed tight. His eyes looked shiny, like he might cry.

Leo felt curious. Also, a little worried.

At recess, Leo ran to the art corner where the sidewalk was smooth and perfect for chalk.

He began drawing a pegasus with huge wings.

Soon, Maddy came over. “Can I draw too?” she asked.

Leo nodded. “Sure.”

Maddy drew a sun with long, squiggly rays.

Then Omar walked near them, slow as a snail.