Riya Brings Diwali to School

Read-aloud note

After the story, ask one simple question about how the friend felt.

Story

Tomorrow was Sharing Day, and Riya was going to share Diwali. But in bed, a worry wriggled in. "What if nobody has ever heard of Diwali?" she whispered. "What if they think it's weird?" Mom sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed her braid. "Then you'll be the very first person to tell them," she said. "That's a pretty special job."

In the morning, Riya put on her new Diwali kurta. It was peacock blue, with tiny round mirrors that winked when she moved. In her family, new clothes are part of Diwali. Then she packed her shoebox: Nani's little clay diya, a photo of last year's rangoli, a string of paper marigolds and a big box of sidewalk chalk. The diya had a tiny battery light inside. Real flames stay at home, and at school, the glow comes from a button.

At Sharing Day, Riya stood at the front of the class. Her voice came out tiny. "This is a diya." "A what?" said someone at the back. Riya's cheeks felt hot. Then Ms. Carter dimmed the lights, and Riya pressed the little button. The diya glowed, warm and golden, right in the middle of her hands. "Ooooh," said the whole class.

When the lights came back on, Riya's voice had grown. "Diwali is the festival of lights," she said. "In my family, we put little lamps by the door and in the windows. We make rangoli, which is a welcome picture by the door. We wear new clothes, we visit our cousins, and everybody shares sweets." Hands shot up. "Do you stay up late?" asked Mateo. "Way past bedtime," said Riya, and everyone laughed. "Can we make a rangoli?" asked Mei.

At recess, Riya drew a giant circle of dots on the blacktop. "A rangoli is a welcome picture," she explained. "Everybody gets a petal." Mei made pink petals. Mateo made green leaves that curled like waves. Someone added a yellow sun in the middle. Soon kids from other classes stopped to look, and the welcome picture grew and grew.

At pickup, the chalk rangoli was still bright by the school doors. Dad was walking up the path when Mateo shouted, "Happy Diwali, Riya!" Then Mei said it. Then the whole line said it, even Ms. Carter. Riya waved with both arms, her little mirrors flashing in the sun.

That evening, Mom and Dad lit the diyas on the high window ledge, and the room filled with soft gold. Riya told Nani all about it on the video call. "Everyone said Happy Diwali!" Then she set Nani's little diya on her own windowsill and pressed the button. She had been afraid that sharing Diwali would make it feel strange. Instead, it had made it bigger. As big as a whole schoolyard.

Scenes

The Night Before

Tomorrow was Sharing Day, and Riya was going to share Diwali. But in bed, a worry wriggled in. "What if nobody has ever heard of Diwali?" she whispered. "What if they think it's weird?" Mom sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed her braid. "Then you'll be the very first person to tell them," she said. "That's a pretty special job."

A Box Full of Diwali

In the morning, Riya put on her new Diwali kurta. It was peacock blue, with tiny round mirrors that winked when she moved. In her family, new clothes are part of Diwali. Then she packed her shoebox: Nani's little clay diya, a photo of last year's rangoli, a string of paper marigolds and a big box of sidewalk chalk. The diya had a tiny battery light inside. Real flames stay at home, and at school, the glow comes from a button.

A Small Voice

At Sharing Day, Riya stood at the front of the class. Her voice came out tiny. "This is a diya." "A what?" said someone at the back. Riya's cheeks felt hot. Then Ms. Carter dimmed the lights, and Riya pressed the little button. The diya glowed, warm and golden, right in the middle of her hands. "Ooooh," said the whole class.

The Festival of Lights

When the lights came back on, Riya's voice had grown. "Diwali is the festival of lights," she said. "In my family, we put little lamps by the door and in the windows. We make rangoli, which is a welcome picture by the door. We wear new clothes, we visit our cousins, and everybody shares sweets." Hands shot up. "Do you stay up late?" asked Mateo. "Way past bedtime," said Riya, and everyone laughed. "Can we make a rangoli?" asked Mei.

A Rangoli for Everyone

At recess, Riya drew a giant circle of dots on the blacktop. "A rangoli is a welcome picture," she explained. "Everybody gets a petal." Mei made pink petals. Mateo made green leaves that curled like waves. Someone added a yellow sun in the middle. Soon kids from other classes stopped to look, and the welcome picture grew and grew.

Happy Diwali, Riya!

At pickup, the chalk rangoli was still bright by the school doors. Dad was walking up the path when Mateo shouted, "Happy Diwali, Riya!" Then Mei said it. Then the whole line said it, even Ms. Carter. Riya waved with both arms, her little mirrors flashing in the sun.

Bigger, Not Smaller

That evening, Mom and Dad lit the diyas on the high window ledge, and the room filled with soft gold. Riya told Nani all about it on the video call. "Everyone said Happy Diwali!" Then she set Nani's little diya on her own windowsill and pressed the button. She had been afraid that sharing Diwali would make it feel strange. Instead, it had made it bigger. As big as a whole schoolyard.

Read-aloud note

After the story, ask one simple question about how the friend felt.