The small red house on D Street was old enough. It had a blue roof. But Corita liked it. She was born in that house. Corita was seven and a half years old. One day her mother hugged her tight and said, "I have something to tell you. We have to move to another house."
Corita cried a little, but she got over it. She put all her toys into a box. Not her dolls, though. She held on to the dolls. The movers (搬家工人) came. They took the furniture and clothes. They took Corita's box of toys. "We'll meet you at the other house," they said.
Corita and her mother got on a bus. Corita held her dolls on her lap. The bus ride was long. After the bus ride, Corita and her mother walked two blocks. They came to a yellow house. It was old and little. The movers were there.
They all went into the house. Corita's mother showed the movers where to put things. She showed them the room for Corita's toys.
"Will this room be mine?"
"Yes," said her mother.
"What makes it so nice and bright?"
"Look up. Look toward the roof."
Corita looked up, "There is a window in the ceiling!"
Her mother smiled, "That's called a skylight. See the blue sky?"
Corita put her dolls on the bed. Then she took her toys out of the box. "I like this house," she told her mother. "This house is so nice."
"Were you afraid it wouldn't be nice?"
Corita laughed, "Well, my dolls were. But of course, they didn't know the skylight!"
Life is like a skylight. Only if we find the light things in our life, we will be always happy.
