Hayley Marshall / Andrea Labonair

If Saoirse were cynical, she might guess that setting Spirit Week the week after parent teacher conferences is meant to distract students from however they went — how can a kid be mad their teacher told their parents about that one inappropriate drawing or those two bad grades if they get to wear pyjamas to school on Wednesday, or funny socks on Thursday? But Saoirse’s not a cynic, and she loves footie, so when her coach at Brynmor tells her that the Spirit Week scrimmage against Darrow High is Monday, this year, instead of Friday, all she feels is excitement to be playing footie in the middle of the day instead of attending classes. Both schools get to head to Petros Park to watch the game, root for their respective teams, wave flags in their school colors, and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine.

Darrow Elementary is involved in Spirit Week, too, and the teachers treat it like a little fieldtrip. Sophie likes watching the game. Even though it isn’t a part of the regular season, watching the kids kick the soccer ball back and forth is exciting in its own way. Sophie whoops every time the ball hits the net, no matter which side of the field the net is on. Some of her classmates say she should only root for Darrow High, since that’s “their” school, but the Brynmor players are doing a great job, too, and Sophie thinks they deserve to be cheered on just the same.

Family and friends of the players on each team are set up in foldup camp chairs or on blankets, and there are food stalls off to one side as well, serving as concessions for the crowd. A couple other booths are set up with businesses that are sponsoring Brynmor or Darrow High, little tables with umbrellas to remind both school staff and the public that communities help each other.

The scrimmage ends when one team scores ten points first. Brynmor wins by one. The players start to file off the field so they can join their classmates in returning to school, but the elementary students are allowed a little extra time to enjoy the park and play on the soccer field now that everyone’s clearing out.

Saoirse is still tying her sneakers, her cleats on the ground beside her, when she hears a gasp and a hiss. She looks over and spots a little ginger-haired girl crouched on her left knee, her right leg drawn up to hug it tightly. She’s wearing a pretty blue dress, her hair in pigtails, and Saoirse can see from here that she’s skinned her knee. It doesn’t look bad, but it had obviously surprised her enough to stop her in her tracks, and Saoirse grabs her bag and jogs over to the girl.

“Hey,” she says. Huge green eyes lift to hers, already brimming with tears, and Saoirse crouches to get a better look. “Woof, that looks rough. You’re tough, you aren’t even crying!”

Sophie sniffles, chin wobbling. “Don’t laugh,” she asks, shifting to sit on her butt instead of her heel. “I tripped on the grass.”

“Probably from us footie players kicking it all up with our cleats,” Saoirse reasons, and she opens her bag and pulls out a water bottle and a pack of wet wipes. “I won’t laugh. When I was about your size, I fell and got hurt out here, too. I was wailing over it, too.”

She doesn’t tell the girl she’d broken her arm, or that her wails were silent because she didn’t have her coat yet. Anything to help her feel a little tougher than she might do just now. She seems so small and upset with herself. Saoirse opens the water bottle and pours a little onto the girl’s knee, letting it gently wash out any grass or dirt. The little girl hisses, and Saoirse winces sympathetically before flushing it a little more. She hums softly as she works, the song that’s lived in her bones her entire life, more out of habit than anything.

“That’s a pretty song,” Sophie murmurs, trying to focus on her instead of the slight sting of the water.

“Yeah? It’s something my brother taught me, when I was really little. Before I ever came to Darrow.” Saoirse opens the wet wipes and tugs one out. “D’you want to hear it?” she asks. Sophie nods, huge eyes somehow huger, and Saoirse smiles and starts to sing.

As she sings, the Gaelic coming easily, the soilse rise from the ground around them. Sophie gasps softly, watching the charming little lights bob and circle them. Saoirse uses the distraction to gently swipe the wet wipe over the girl’s knee. There’s no blood, she’s happy to see. Mostly just the very top layer of skin’s been broken, looking ragged in places. Sophie doesn’t even seem to notice if it stings. She reaches out to touch one of the lights, and giggles when it dances and swirls around her fingers.

[ Impromptu gathering! Tag Saoirse, Sophie, both, or neither! If your pups would be near the park, whether to support their local schools, or because they wandered into it, tag in and tag around. If your pup owns a business, feel free to have them sponsor Darrow High or Brynmor (or even just hawk their wares while there’s a crowd!) Sorry, nocturnal friends, this one is set to midday. Open for as long as it needs to be! ]