The next day at school, I told my plan to Randi. She listened intently, not interrupting me with her ideas like she usually would. When I finished, she looked at me seriously, and replied, "I'm all in,"

Over the next few weeks, Randi and I worked hard on it everyday during lunch. Nobody, not even the teachers, noticed we were gone from the cafeteria, a fact we took advantage of. Mrs. Randall always welcomed us into the art room, and helped us with almost every single detail along the way. She even bought us the materials we needed to complete the project. That was really sweet of her, and I felt bad that I had misjudged her before. Before long, the three of us had created an amazing, huge, five foot portrait that was the perfect image of the cottage.

On the last day of art club, before Christmas break, I skipped happily into the art room, which had basically become my second home because of all the time I had spent there. I got used to the mess, and found the interior comfy and homey, not a junkyard. The same kids were there, joking around, throwing bits of clay at one another, or doing a terrible job of painting a picture they had probably copied off of a website or something. "Hey Mrs. Randall!" I called cheerfully to her. She turned around and when she saw me, squealed and gave me a large embrace. As Randi and I had learned, Mrs. Randall was a huge hugger.

" The painting finally dried!" She declared, after letting go of me. I grinned giddily.

"Let's go check it out."

When I saw the painting, it took my breath away. In my opinion, it was more beautiful than the art I saw when I went to the MOMA last summer. I knew that I couldn't have done it by myself. It was a struggle to get it out of the drying rack because of the size, but when we did, all the kids in the room stopped working and stared. Many of them came over, and traced their fingers around the edge to feel the dried paint, as if to make sure it was not a photo.

"Wow!" A girl, who I knew was named Olive whispered breathlessly as she approached it. "Who did this?"

Mrs. Randall beamed and gestured towards me. " Cassandra here. She and her friend have worked very hard on it." Olive turned to look at me.

"Wait, who are you? Do you even go here?" She sputtered. A few weeks ago, that kind of comment would have ticked me off, but now, it was just plain funny. I laughed.

"Of course I go here!" I answered her. " I was in your class all throughout preschool and elementary". Plus, I'm in most of your classes now!" Olive looked shocked.

" Really?" She mumbled, embarrassed. "I could have sworn I had never seen you in my life." I shook my head, barely holding in the giggles. Many of the other students agreed with Olive, saying that they had never seen me before. 

At the end of the two hours, all the other kids rushed outside, eager to start winter vacation. I stayed behind, to help Mrs. Randall clean up. "Cassandra," Mrs. Randall said to me excitedly, while we were brushing the floor. "I found the most wonderful art contest we can submit the painting to. It's at a local art gallery. It's for artists of all ages, and frankly, you have a very big chance of winning. Oh and there is a reward!"

I stood up straight. "How much?" I demanded to know. Mrs. Randall laughed. "About $5,000, give or take." Wow! That was a lot. It could fix up the art room for sure. I had no intention of keeping the money, if I did win. That would be selfish.

"May I take the painting home?" I requested. "To show to my family, I mean." My real plan of course was to show it to Grandma when we visited her on Christmas Eve. But Mrs. Randall didn't have to know that.

"Of course!" Mrs. Randall replied. "Just bring it back when you get back to school from break, so we can submit it to the art contest." I nodded. "Look at the time!" She gestured to the clock. "I'm sure you would like to go."

I nodded, but I didn't really want to leave. "What are you doing over the break?" I asked, curious about what my favorite teacher was doing.

"Oh painting, doing various projects, spending time with my dog and cat, reading, and visiting my daughter." Mrs. Randall grinned, obviously excited about the break. 

"Well, have a happy Holiday, Mrs. Randall" We bid our goodbyes. I took the painting in a bag, and went out to get my bike. It had started to snow, and I considered asking for a ride from Mrs. Randall when I noticed Mom's car waiting for me at the front of the school. That was weird. Mom almost never picked me up. I walked over to the van. Mom saw me and opened the door for me. Even through the window, I could tell she had been crying. "Mom, what's the matter?" I asked, my heart falling, even before she said anything.

Mom sighed and looked at me. "Honey, I'm so sorry. Grandma died today."