Secret of the Time Capsule by Joan Lowery Nixon

1

    I ’VE GOT EXCITING NEWS for you fourth graders,” Mrs. Jackson said. She looked mysterious. “Soon, you’re going to hear from people from the past.”
    Sean Quinn leaned forward, poking Debbie Jean Parker to be quiet. He knew that Mrs. Jackson wasn’t going to say another word until everyone had settled down.
    The moment the classroom was silent, Mrs. Jackson asked, “How many of you have ever heard of a time capsule?”
    Henry Craft raised his hand. “Does it have something to do with outer space?” he asked.
    “No, it doesn’t,” Debbie Jean interrupted. “A time capsule is a container that holds a whole bunch of things from a certain time. It’s usually buried. Then it’s dug up years and years later and opened.”
    “Why?” Matt Fischer asked.
    “So people can see what life was like way back when.” Debbie Jean wiggled with self-importance.
    “That’s right,” Mrs. Jackson said. “And right here in Redoaks, in the year 1918, a time capsule was buried. It was supposed to be opened in one hundred years.”
    “I know, I know, I know!” Debbie Jean shouted. “The mayor’s secretary, Emma Wegman, lives next door to us, and she told me all about it, and when it’s going to be opened, and there’s going to be a parade and a party, and—”
    “Thank you, Debbie Jean,” Mrs. Jackson said. “Let’s talk about how this class is going to be involved. One of the items in the time capsule was an envelope filled with letters from fourth graders. The letters are addressed to the fourth graders of the future.”
    “If the capsule hasn’t been opened, how do we know it’s got letters in it?” Matt asked.
    Debbie Jean blurted out, “Because Miss Wegman found the list of contents in one of the city hall’s files.”
    Sean did some quick mental arithmetic and said, “Mrs. Jackson, if that time capsule was supposed to be opened in one hundred years, it would be the year 2018, not now.”
    “That’s right, Sean,” Mrs. Jackson said, “but something happened to change things. The capsule was buried during a ceremony to celebrate the fifty years that had passed since the founding of Redoaks. It was buried under the bronze statue of John M. Williford. In 1918, he was the mayor of Redoaks.”
    “I was in the park yesterday,” Jabez Amadi said, “and that big old statue was down and lying on the ground.”
    “The statue had to be taken down,” Mrs. Jackson said. “One side of the hill under the statue eroded so much that the statue began to tilt. There was a danger that at any time it could fall. Someone could have been badly hurt … or even killed. Soon the statue will be moved to a safer place.”
    “Why couldn’t they just move the time capsule with the statue and save it to be opened in 2018?” Sean asked. “Why open it early?”
    “I know! I know why!” Debbie Jean jumped up and down at her desk, waving her hands. “It’s because when Miss Wegman found the list of what was inside the capsule, she showed it to the mayor. He decided that the time capsule should be opened right away.”
    “Maybe it’s like getting a birthday present early, and you can’t wait to open it,” Matt suggested.
    “Settle down, now. We’re getting to the really big news,” Mrs. Jackson said. “The members of this class, just like the fourth graders of 1918, are going to write letters to the kids who’ll be fourth graders one hundred years from now.”
    “How big is this capsule?” Jennifer Doaks asked. “How much will it hold?”
    “I don’t have the exact figures on the size,” Mrs. Jackson said, “but I understand it’s a round, airtight metal tube. It’s about two feet in diameter and about three feet long.”
    Sean looked at the figures he’d been adding and subtracting on a piece of notebook paper. “If those kids were nine in the fourth grade, they would have been born in 1909. But the capsule’s going to be opened early, so they won’t be 109 years old. Some of them may still