months, thinks this election is worth the risk, then Iâd be truly ashamed to make you stay away. Colombia is your home too. You have every right in the world to make your voices heard.â
Yeny hurled herself out of her seat, knocking it over, and raced around the table to hug her father. He hugged her back and rubbed her cheek with one thumb, exactly as he used to do in the village. And when she looked him in the eyes she still saw a bit of the sadness, but there was something else there too: strong, fierce pride.
CHAPTER 11
Kids Make History
On voting day, Rocio, David, Beto, and a whole bunch of other kids showed up at Yeny and Juanâs door. Every single one of them was dressed in white, the color of peace.
âCan you come?â Rocio asked.
âYes!â Yeny shouted, and twirled around in her white trousers and a white T-shirt. âMy whole familyâs coming. Weâve got banners and everything.â
âSo which right are you going to vote for?â Rocio asked.
Juan answered before anyone else could. âJustice!â he shouted. âThe people who kidnapped my father should go to jail.â
âThatâs true,â Yeny said, âbut if we had peace, he would never have been kidnapped in the first place.â
Children marched, waving flags that said âpeaceâ and cheering loudly about what they believed in.
âYeah,â said Rocio, âbut what about the right not to be killed? Thatâs in the Constitution too, and whatâs the use of having peace and justice, if youâre dead?â
âBut if we have peace,â Yeny said, âthen we donât have to worry about people getting killed. First comes peace, and then come justice, and life, and everything else. Peace has to be the first step.â
Their discussion continued the whole way to the soccer field, each kid trying to convince the others. But it was a teasing, happy discussion, because they knew that
all
childrenâs rights were important, and that was exactly what they were going to tell the grown-ups. No matter which rights each of them voted for, the adults couldnât help but notice that what the children wanted was
peace
.
All the way to the field the streets were filled with children wearing white. Some carried signs with a giant peace symbol. Others were tossing white balloons in the air. Still others were singing. And in the distance, on the field, music was already playing.
None of the meetings had come close to having this many people. There must have been hundreds and hundreds of kids, and Yeny knew that this wasnât the only voting station nearby. Celia had said they were hoping that three hundred thousand young people would vote that day. Yeny hoped that MarÃa Cristina got to be one of them.
In the field, tables were set up everywhere, and kids were starting to get in line at each one. Yeny saw some children as young as four or five, and others as old as seventeen. Some looked pretty tough. Some looked as if they came from rich families, and others wore ragged clothes. But everyone was laughing and talking to each other, and for once, the way they looked didnât seem to matter. Face-painters had set up booths in the center, and a clown was juggling oranges. Across the field, a bunch of kids in bright, colorful costumes had gathered to practice a dance. Later there would be skits and songs too. Farther along, in the middle of the crowd, Yeny even saw a television camera.
And then she saw Joaquin. She grinned at him, and she thought she saw the flicker of a smile on his face before he turned away.
The lineup for voting moved fast. The children that Yeny talked to already knew exactly which right they wanted to vote for, and most of them wanted peace. When it was Yenyâs turn, she carefully read the colorful ballot. It listed twelve basic childrenâs rights: survival, health, food, education, play, equality, love and family,