A Boy Named Ken
Takumi meets a boy his own age
A boy walked toward me on the busy street.
He was about the same as me.
"Are you ?" he asked with a warm .
"Yes, a little," I said in a small voice.
"My name is Ken. What is yours?" he asked.
"I am Takumi," I answered slowly and shyly.
Ken had a kind face and bright, gentle eyes.
His looked strangely to me.
"You have funny clothes," Ken said with a .
"I come from far away," I said .
Ken lives near the old , he told me.
He goes to the middle school every day.
"I love drawing pictures," Ken said happily.
He showed me a small full of sketches.
The drawings were beautiful and full of life.
Then I looked closely at his face again.
He had the same eyes as my grandfather.
My grandfather's name is Ken, too, I remembered.
My heart stopped for one long second.
"This boy is my young grandfather," I realized.
But I could not tell him the .
"Your pictures are wonderful, Ken," I said quietly.
Ken smiled and thanked me with red cheeks.
We walked together down the sunny old street.