Lakshmi pressed her nose against the car window. The school building looked enormous, with red bricks, big glass doors, and hundreds of children she didn’t know.
Two weeks ago, she had lived in Hyderabad, where she knew every friend on her street and every teacher at school. Now her family had moved to a new city in America for her father’s job, and everything felt strange: the weather, the food, even the way people said her name.
“What if nobody talks to me?” she whispered.
Her mother squeezed her hand. “Just be yourself, bangaram. That is always enough.”
The Longest Morning
Her new teacher, Ms. Carter, was kind. She introduced Lakshmi to the class and showed her to a desk by the window. But during reading time, Lakshmi didn’t know which book to pick. During maths, the teacher called it “math,” and Lakshmi wasn’t sure she had heard right.
At recess, the children ran outside in groups. Lakshmi stood near the wall, holding her jacket tightly, pretending to watch the clouds.
She thought of her best friend Swathi back home, and her eyes stung.
The Lunchbox
At lunchtime, Lakshmi opened her steel tiffin box. Inside were three soft idlis, a little container of coconut chutney, and a sprinkle of karam podi.
A boy across the table wrinkled his nose. “What’s that?”
Lakshmi’s cheeks burned. She wanted to close the lid and hide.
Then a girl with curly hair and a gap in her teeth leaned over. “Are those rice cakes? They look like little clouds!”
“They’re called idlis,” Lakshmi said quietly. “My mother makes them. They’re steamed.”
“Can I try one?” the girl asked. “I’m Maya. My grandma is from Mexico, and she makes tamales. People always ask what they are too.”
Trading Lunches
Lakshmi hesitated, then passed Maya an idli with a little chutney. Maya took a big bite and her eyes widened.
“This is so good! Here, try this.” She offered Lakshmi a piece of her sweet bread, called concha, with a pink sugar top.
Soon, two more children came over to see what was happening. A boy named Sam shared his apple slices. A quiet girl named Aiko showed them her rice balls wrapped in seaweed.
“It’s like a world lunch,” said Maya, laughing.
Even the boy who had wrinkled his nose came closer. “Can I try the cloud thing too?” he asked sheepishly.
Teaching Telugu
After lunch, Maya asked, “How do you say friend in your language?”
“Snehithuralu,” Lakshmi said. “For a girl friend. And snehithudu for a boy.”
Maya tried it and got tangled in the syllables, and they both giggled so much that Ms. Carter had to remind them it was reading time.
Going Home
When her mother picked her up that afternoon, Lakshmi ran to the car, talking so fast her words tumbled over each other.
“Amma, Maya’s grandmother makes tamales, and Aiko has rice balls with seaweed, and Sam can say namaskaram now, and can you make extra idlis tomorrow? Everyone wants to try them!”
Her mother laughed. “I told you, bangaram. Being yourself is always enough.”
That night, Lakshmi wrote a letter to Swathi in Hyderabad. I miss you, she wrote. But I think I made a new friend today. Her name is Maya, and she likes idlis.
Moral of the Story
Sharing who we are, including our food, language, and culture, can open the door to friendship. New places feel less scary when we are brave enough to be ourselves.
Questions to Discuss
- How did Lakshmi feel on her first day? Why?
- What happened when she shared her idlis?
- How did Maya help Lakshmi feel welcome?
- How can you help a new child feel welcome at school?
This story about making friends is especially meaningful for children who have moved to a new school, city, or country.
You May Also Enjoy
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- The Weaver Who Wove the Seasons
- The Girl Who Collected Silences
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