Molly, her cheeks flushed and hair tied in a messy ponytail, grinned at Holly as they arranged the last row of cups. The two friends, both ten years old, wore matching yellow aprons and smeared lemon juice on their fingers. A line had already formed, winding past the giant oak tree and out toward the sidewalk, full of thirsty neighbors fanning themselves with their hands. "I can't believe so many people want our lemonade, Molly! Look at that line!" "I told you pink lemonade is everyone's favorite in this heat, Holly. Let's keep squeezing—fast!"

Molly poured glass after glass, her arm aching but her heart racing with excitement. Holly squeezed lemons as quickly as she could, the juice trickling between her fingers and splashing into the big plastic bowl. Coins clinked into a tin can beside them, each dime fueling their giggles and determination. "We’re almost out of our fourth batch! I don’t know if we can make enough in time for everyone," Holly whispered, glancing nervously at the dwindling pitcher.

Molly wiped her brow and looked at the emptying pitchers. She sighed, wishing out loud as she glanced at Holly. Holly echoed her hope, her eyes shining with both exhaustion and delight. "I wish we had more lemonade. I don’t want anyone to go home thirsty," "Me neither. If only we had a magic lemonade pitcher that never ran out!"