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everything went well, he’d let the other ones come later. And he still wasn’t sure he’d want them to go to a crowded, dangerous event like a Peace Carnival.
    They could hear the excited chatter on the field well before they got there. Yeny walked faster, and tried to hurry Juan and Papá along, but the sidewalks were crowded today with families enjoying a stroll together, or buying
empanadas
from vendors. Normally, Yeny would want to stop to see what the hot, friedpastry pockets were stuffed with—meat was her favorite, but the potato ones were good too. Today, though, Yeny wanted to get to the meeting as fast as possible.
    She had never seen such a big field in her whole life. It was bigger than all the houses in her village put together, and there were probably about thirty children there. They were running and shouting and jumping, and Yeny could hardly wait to join them. With Joaquin nowhere in sight, maybe she’d finally get to talk to some other kids.
    â€œI’ll be right here if you need me,” Papá said, stopping at the café across the street from the field. The shop had a few little metal tables outside, and several men in white straw hats with wide brims sat drinking coffee. A little way off, a small yellow dog watched them with one ear up and one ear down. The men nodded to Papá as he arrived.
    Yeny and Juan dashed across the street. David and Beto were already at the edge of the field, waiting for them. “You’re just in time,” David said. “I think Celia’s about to start the meeting.”
    Nearby, a girl in a bright blue T-shirt climbed onto an empty plastic fruit crate and clapped her hands. Yeny watched her. She had already heard about Celia. The grupos armados had killed both her parents, so now Celia lived with an aunt, and she was one of the kids traveling around the city to talk to children about peace. But Yeny had expected someone older. How couldsomeone this young be organizing meetings? She didn’t look much older than Elena, who was thirteen, and Yeny couldn’t imagine her sister organizing anything.
    Motorcycles roared past, and car horns blared. At the far end of the field, a few men were kicking a soccer ball around, just like the boys in the village had always done on Saturdays. Yeny and María Cristina used to love watching those village soccer games, which quickly grew to dozens of people playing and cheering. The games would go on for hours and paused only when a donkey or a horse had to get through with a load of bananas or firewood. She wondered if María Cristina was watching a game like that in the camp right now.
    Celia smiled out at them from atop her fruit crate, and the kids crowded in around her. Yeny, Juan, David, and Beto made sure they were as close as possible, so they could see and hear everything. Celia thanked them for coming. “
Gracias por venir
. I’ve got great news,” she announced, in a strong, clear voice.
    â€œAbout the party?” David asked.
    â€œNope, we’ll get to that in a second,” she said. “I want to tell you about something even bigger, something that goes far beyond this neighborhood.”
    Juan, Beto, David, and Yeny looked at each other. Yeny hoped she wasn’t planning a party for the whole country now, because her father would never let her come to something
that
big.

    Kids organized the meetings themselves, and every now and then, they asked for a bit of adult help.

    â€œI’ve been talking to other kids, and young people everywhere are gathering together in meetings just like this one. Sometimes we meet at churches, or at a boys’ and girls’ club, or at a school, but always, we’re talking about our rights. With this many people involved, things are definitely going to change.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘our rights’?” asked a little girl with short pigtails tied up in pink bobbles. “The things we’ve