Free Yeny and the Children for Peace by Michelle Mulder Page A

full from floor to ceiling with bright orange boxes of guava candies, bags of bread, shiny green packets of coffee, boxes of panela, yellow packages of Yeny’s favorite drinking chocolate, and more kinds of cookies than she had ever seen. Close to the cashier was an enormous stack of bags of rice, almost as tall as Yeny. Her father grabbed one off the top, pulled some bills from his pocket, and moments later, they were on the street again.
    Yeny wished it were so easy for
her
to get what she wanted. The election was only three days away, and her parents were still saying no, no, no. What was she going to
do?

CHAPTER 10
Letters
    It was Thursday afternoon, the last meeting before the vote. Yeny and about thirty other kids had gathered in the field to count how many tables they would have, how many jugglers, clowns, musicians, signs, face-painters, and games. The following day, they would meet again to set up a carnival like nothing any of them had ever seen before.
    Suddenly Celia came running across the field, waving a handful of envelopes. “I have news,” she shouted to the crowd. She stepped up onto her fruit crate. “Look at this! Letters! The grupos armados wrote back.”
    Yeny looked at the huge grin on Celia’s face, and knew at once what the groups had said. “They said yes! They’re going torespect our election,” Yeny cheered. “They won’t do anything to stop us.” She couldn’t believe her idea had worked.
    â€œIsn’t it amazing?” Celia asked. “Every one of them said the same thing—they have children of their own, and they say they don’t want to tear the country apart. Our elections tomorrow will be safe here, and throughout Colombia.”
    Yeny could hardly wait to tell her parents the news. Of course, she could already imagine her mother asking who would be silly enough to believe the groups. But Yeny had an answer for that. As far as she knew, they had never promised to be peaceful before, so why
not
believe them?
    Tonight was her last chance to talk to her parents, to convince them to let her go to the election. She should have developed a plan by now, one that was guaranteed to convince them. But she hadn’t. And she didn’t feel any more confident than before.
    There was only one thing she knew for sure: she was going to vote. And so was Elena, and so were Juan and Rosa and Sylvia. Grown-ups were always saying that there was strength in numbers. And in her family, if you included Aunt Nelly, her parents were outvoted six to two.
    â€œWe’re gonna change the world!” shouted David, and Rocio grabbed Yeny in a happy, swinging dance right there on the spot.

    One more important letter arrived that day. It was waiting for Juan and his sisters when they got home from the meeting.
    â€œIt’s from Papá,” Juan shrieked, when he saw his mother sitting on the front step, holding an envelope. She was smiling, and Juan, Rosa, and Sylvia broke into a run.
    â€œWhat does it say?” Juan asked.
    â€œDoes he know if he’s coming home soon?” asked Sylvia.
    â€œDid he hear us on the radio?” asked Rosa.
    â€œHe doesn’t know about coming home, but he did hear you on the radio. Come on inside, and we’ll read the letter together.”
    â€œI want to read it!” Juan shouted, pulling off his backpack on his way inside.
    â€œNo,” said Sylvia, “Mamá should. None of us can ever read his funny handwriting anyway, and you’ll spend too much time trying to figure it out.”
    Aunt Nelly was laughing. “Hold your horses. The letter won’t go bad, you know. We’ll make ourselves a snack, maybe
un licuado de mango
, and—”
    Yeny loved mango milkshakes, but Juan groaned. “Forget it! Open . . .”
    â€œOkay, okay. I was only joking.”
    Yeny followed everyone inside and put away her school things. She had never seen one of her uncle’s