Turn their drawing into a book where they are the author, not the performer.

In the hallway, Nadia wants one paper airplane flight through the doorway. She trots to the tape line and lifts her paper airplane.

She throws even harder. WHOOSH! The plane swings left faster. It dives past the doorway and flops near a shoe.

Nadia stands still in the hallway and looks at the long wing. Then she points the nose far right of the doorway.

It slips through the doorway. Beyond it her airplane rests inside, and Nadia beams from the hall.

By the tide pool, a crab watches. He wants to help. He scuttles to the rock pile. Two crabs push together.

He darts closer and reaches out. The others grip first. Sand sprays under busy feet. He slips back, still empty-clawed.

At the edge, he looks at both claws. One is enough, he thinks. He spins around and scuttles back quickly. The heavy rock waits.

Up it goes. The path clears. Back at the tide pool edge, he stands easily. That is fine too.

Billie wants a giant block tower. Billie stacks blocks on the rug.

More blocks! Taller now, faster now. KABOOM! Blocks plop on Billie's head.

Blocks scatter under chair legs. Billie freezes, holding one last block.

The tower stays up. Billie blinks. Billie sits by the tall tower.

In the practice room, Emeka stood by the music stand with his trumpet lifted high. Here, with nobody listening, the piece came easily and filled the small room.

Then Emeka tried again. He pushed out the second note at the same full volume he used when he practiced alone, and the sound leaped farther this time.

Then he understood something he had brought with him all along. In the practice room he never played the piece from the note behind him. He played the note in front of him, one after another.

Afterward, near the side curtain onstage, Emeka stood with his trumpet at his side while the full hall blurred beyond the lights. In the same big room that had startled him, he held himself straighter than before.