Asma Runs to Find Where the Rainbow Touches the Ground

All morning, the rain had fallen on the village. It drummed on the tin roof of the shed. It filled the flowerpots on the steps. It made the dusty lane shiny and dark. Asma sat by the window with her chin in her hands, watching the drops race each other down the glass.

Then, just after lunch, the rain grew softer. Pitter, patter. Pit. Pat.

And then it stopped.

The clouds began to drift apart. A warm yellow light spilled across the wet fields. Asma pressed her nose to the window, and she gasped.

"A rainbow!" she cried.

There it was, stretching across the sky in a great curved bridge. Red on the outside, then orange, yellow, green, blue, and soft purple on the inside. One end seemed to come down right behind the olive trees at the bottom of the hill.

Asma's little brother, Bashar, came running. He was four, and he was still wearing one sock.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A rainbow," said Asma. "And look, Bashar! It touches the ground. Just behind the olive trees. I am going to find the exact spot where it lands."

"Me too!" said Bashar.

Their father looked up from his newspaper. "Wear your boots," he said. "And stay on the path. And hold your brother's hand."

So Asma put on her red boots, and Bashar put on his green ones, and found his other sock too. Then out they went into the fresh, sparkling afternoon.

The air smelled wonderful. It smelled of wet earth and wet leaves and the lemon tree by the gate. Everything dripped and glittered. A snail was crossing the path, slow and shiny, and the children stepped carefully around it.

"Hurry," said Asma. "Before the rainbow goes away."

They walked down the hill, splashing through puddles. Splish, splash, splosh. The rainbow shone ahead of them, bright and beautiful, with its end tucked behind the olive trees.

They reached the olive trees. Asma ran between the silvery trunks and looked all around.

But the rainbow was not there.

She looked up. The rainbow was still in the sky. But now its end seemed to be behind the old stone wall at the edge of the next field.

"It moved," said Asma, puzzled.

"Maybe it is shy," said Bashar.

They walked along the edge of the field to the old stone wall. Asma climbed up on a big flat stone and peered over the other side.

There was a meadow full of wet yellow flowers. There was a brown cow chewing slowly. But there was no rainbow touching the ground.

She looked up again. Now the end of the rainbow seemed to be beyond the stream, near Uncle Marwan's farm.

"It moved again!" said Asma. She frowned. "Every time we get close, it goes farther away."

Bashar tugged her hand. "My legs are tired," he said.

Asma looked at him. His cheeks were pink, and his boots were muddy up to the top. He was trying very hard to keep up.

She wanted to keep running. She wanted to find the spot where the rainbow touched the ground. But Bashar was little, and they had already walked a long way.

"Let us sit for a moment," she said.

They sat on a dry rock beside the wall. Just then, Uncle Marwan came along the path with his wheelbarrow full of firewood. He had a big grey moustache and a cheerful whistle.

"Hello, you two," he said. "What are you doing so far from home?"

"We are chasing the rainbow," said Asma. "But it keeps running away from us."

Uncle Marwan laughed gently. He set down his wheelbarrow and sat on the wall beside them.

"Ah," he said. "Let me tell you a secret about rainbows. A rainbow is made of sunlight shining through tiny drops of rain. The sun has to be behind you, and the rain has to be in front of you. When you walk, the rainbow walks too. It always stays in front of you. Nobody can ever reach the end."

"Nobody?" asked Asma.

"Nobody," said Uncle Marwan. "Not even me, and I have been trying since I was a boy."

Asma thought about this. It was a little disappointing. But it was also wonderful. A rainbow that you could never catch. A rainbow that walked with you wherever you went.

"So the rainbow is following us?" said Bashar.

"In a way," said Uncle Marwan, with a twinkle in his eye. "Try it. Turn around and look at your shadows."

The children turned around. There was the sun, low and golden behind them. And there were their two shadows, long and thin on the wet grass, one big and one small, holding hands.

Then they turned back. The rainbow was still there, right in front of them, shining.

"It is like the rainbow belongs to everybody who looks at it," said Asma slowly.

"That is exactly right," said Uncle Marwan.

Bashar pointed. "Look! There is another one!"

Above the first rainbow, a second, fainter one had appeared. Its colors were softer, like a whisper.

"A double rainbow," breathed Asma. "We would never have seen it if we had kept running."

They sat quietly on the rock, the three of them, and watched. The colors glowed in the sky. A little bird sang in the olive trees. Water dripped from the leaves, plink, plink.

Slowly, slowly, the rainbows began to fade. First the faint one disappeared. Then the bright one grew paler and paler, until there was only a wash of pink light where it had been.

"Thank you for telling us the secret," said Asma.

"Come," said Uncle Marwan. "I will walk you home. Bashar, would you like a ride in my wheelbarrow, on top of the firewood?"

Bashar cheered. Uncle Marwan lifted him up, and off they went, back across the field, along the stone wall, through the olive trees and up the hill.

When they got home, their mother had warm milk with honey waiting for them. Asma sat by the window again, sipping it slowly.

"Did you find the end of the rainbow?" asked Mama.

Asma smiled. "No," she said. "But I found something better. I found out it walks with you. And I saw two of them, sitting still with Bashar."

Outside, the sky was turning gold, and the wet fields were shining.