In the spring the Moreno family moved in next to Mr. Haddad. He was an old man, and he was stern. He never said good morning, and behind a fence twice as tall as the children he kept a perfect garden. From their window, Lila, who was nine, and her brother Finn, who was six, could only see the tops of the sunflowers and a few red tomatoes, like a country they were not allowed to visit.
One Saturday Finn's red ball flew over the fence. The children dared each other to ring Mr. Haddad's bell. He opened the gate with folded arms. "The ball is in the tomatoes," he said. "You may get it, if you are careful. Walk on the stones."
Lila walked on the stones, found the ball and touched nothing. The garden smelled of leaves and warm earth. The next day the ball flew over again, by "accident". Mr. Haddad said nothing. But the day after, the small side gate in the fence, which had always been locked, was open. Beside it stood a bucket of water with a note: "For the tomatoes. Six o'clock."
By July the children watered the garden every evening, and Mr. Haddad taught them that a tomato is ready when it comes off in your hand without pulling. Lila ate her first one warm from the sun and said it tasted like July. Mr. Haddad looked away, but he was smiling, and Finn saw it.
At the end of the summer the small gate had become a small blue door, painted by the three of them. And the next morning, for the first time in the history of the street, he said "Good morning" first.
