The typhoon was gone. Kenji walked to his neighbor's garden. The fence was down. Flowers lay flat in the mud.
He dug with his trowel. The mud pulled at his bare feet. Clink. The trowel hit something hard.
Kenji lifted a heavy planter box. It tipped backward. *Thump*. A bright green frog sat on top and croaked.
The back door creaked. The neighbor stepped out. She picked up another box and handed it to Kenji.
They set the box upright. Kenji's frog jumped into the fresh soil. The neighbor watched and smiled.
The neighbor watered the garden. Kenji lined up the planters in neat rows. A tiny green shoot poked through the soil.
The neighbor pointed at the rows. "Look, Kenji," she said. "They'll grow again." The frog hopped along the edge.
The frog hopped from planter to planter. Kenji laughed. The neighbor wiped mud from her cheek and grinned.
By afternoon, the garden looked different. The planter boxes stood straight. The frog rested on a leaf.
Kenji sat beside his frog. The garden would bloom again. He knew it would.