“I have bad news,” announced Mrs. Carrillo, the Spanish club’s sponsor. “We’re nearly $1,000 short of the amount we need to take our trip to Mexico City next month.”

The club members groaned. Since the idea of going to Mexico had been brought up back in September, it had been an incentive to raise as much money as possible. They had hoped that their last fund-raiser, a dinner featuring enchiladas and other traditional Mexican dishes, would provide the rest of the funds they needed. However, it had not brought in as much money as they had expected.

“How depressing,” Adrian said gloomily. “All year we’ve practiced our Spanish, and now there’s no way we’ll get to Mexico City.”

Marisol refused to give up so easily. “Look at us! We’re already thinking it’s hopeless. Don’t be so pessimistic! There has to be a way to raise the money!” she said. “Everybody go home and think. Ask your parents, friends, and neighbors. Let’s meet again in two days to see whether anyone has a suggestion.”

After school Marisol decided to visit Grandpa Delgado at his ranch. Talking with him always made her problems seem smaller. Just being at the ranch made her feel better, so she went whenever she was agitated about something. She knew she could rely on the land’s unchanging beauty.

Marisol found her grandfather in his old barn. “I guess we’ll need to pull this shabby old barn down pretty soon,” he said when he saw her. “It’s falling apart. It seems as if it deteriorated overnight. Now that we’ve built a new barn, it’s just taking up space around here—like me, I suppose.” He sighed and looked around. “I built it right after I came to this country. It looks as though we’ve both just about outlived our usefulness.”

As Marisol watched him looking around the barn, she got an idea. “Grandpa, wasn’t there a theater group near here that used to perform in a barn?”

“Why, yes,” Grandpa Delgado said. “The Red Barn Players. They’re not around anymore. It was a good idea, performing in a barn. We don’t have fancy theaters around here like those you would find in a big city.”

“How many folding chairs do you think could fit in this barn?” Marisol asked.

He wrinkled his brow and thought a moment. “Probably a hundred or so. Why?”

Marisol’s words came out in a rush. “I have an idea for how to earn money for my Spanish club. We could put on a play right here in your barn! If we gave two performances and if a hundred people came to each one and if tickets cost five dollars each . . .” She tapped her feet as she did the math in her head. “That’s $1,000!” she said triumphantly.

At their next meeting, Marisol’s fellow club members liked the idea. Mrs. Carrillo said, “Marisol, why don’t you and Carlota find a play for us to perform. We need to decide on the play right away so we’ll have time to rehearse, build sets, make costumes, and advertise. In the meantime we can work on turning the barn into a temporary theater.”

Marisol and Carlota spent hours at the library looking for a play, but nothing seemed right. “Here’s one about a zookeeper who discovers his gorilla can talk,” Carlota said.

Marisol shook her head. “None of these will work. They’re too short, and none of them has more than three roles,” she said.

“Besides,” added Carlota, “we should do a play that has something to do with Mexican culture.”

Marisol paused for a moment as an idea came to her. “I wrote a play for English class a few months ago about my grandpa when he was a young charro, a Mexican cowboy. Would you like to see it?”

Carlota went home with Marisol and read the play. When Carlota finished reading, she turned to Marisol and said, “It’s perfect!”

The other club members liked it, too. Parts were assigned, and rehearsals began. Marisol didn’t have a part, but she helped with sets and costumes. Her whole family got involved to make sure the play was a success because they were proud of her. Marisol’s father put up posters on every telephone pole for miles around. Her older brother Ray, who attended college in a nearby town, promised to bring a group of friends on opening night.

Before the play Mrs. Carrillo explained the purpose of the event and thanked the audience for attending. Then the performance began. Marisol watched nervously from backstage. At one point Adrian, who was playing Marisol’s grandfather, had to sing an old Mexican folk song. He had a good voice, but he must have forgotten the words. Marisol listened in horror as his voice faded away, and the barn went silent.

Then another voice, deep and rich, took up the song. Marisol peeked out at the audience and saw Grandpa Delgado. He had risen to his feet and was singing the song as she had heard him sing it many times. He turned to the rest of the crowd. “Sing along,” he invited them. “You know the words.” To Marisol’s amazement many of the older men and women joined in. Their voices swelled, reaching into every corner of the dark, dusty barn and transforming it into a place of wonder.

After the play was over, Marisol helped count the profits. They had made more than $500. She felt sure that they would be able to reach their goal after the next day’s performance.

Grandpa Delgado came over to congratulate her. “I guess this old thing still has some life in it after all,” he said with a wink.

“I always knew that it did, Grandpa,” Marisol said, winking back. The trip to Mexico City would be great, but nothing could ever replace Marisol’s happiness when she heard her grandfather’s strong voice ringing throughout the barn.