It didn’t take long for Alice to spoil her party-dress. She spilled gravy on Christmas Day, splashed yellow paints, got dripped on from Daddy’s wine-glass when she ran into him, then slipped in the mud.
Poor Alice cried on New Year’s Eve; Mommy had washed her pretty dress, but it came out blotchy and wrong. Now she had nothing to wear.
Alice slept sadly that night while her mother sewed. In the morning the dress was beautiful again, brown roots and branches embroidered on the gravy-stain, buttercups and daisies growing round a bright red rose. “Thank you Mommy,” Alice said.