Paloma was a street painter. At the end of an alley there was a gray wall. One morning she painted a green door on it, with a shiny handle and a letter slot. Children knocked on it and waited.
Three weeks later Mr. Duarte, from the city, signed an order. "On Monday we will paint the wall gray again," he said. "A door that does not open is a lie."
But on Saturday Paloma found notes in the painted slot. "Good morning, door." Someone had fixed a red mailbox under it. By Sunday night there were forty letters in it.
On Monday Mr. Duarte opened the mailbox. One letter was for him: "Dear Mr. Duarte, please don't close the door. Sami, age seven." He read it twice and sent the painters home. Paloma put a doormat in front of the door.
