Lost

Lila walked wide-eyed through the market. It took two hours of walking out of the Andes mountains to reach the village in the valley, so Lila rarely accompanied her mother. Now she stared in wonder at the variety of goods for sale. There were piles of produce--potatoes, cucumbers, and maize--tables filled with brightly dyed cloth, herbs to grind into medicine, crated chickens, pottery, beaded jewelry, and stacks of books. But Mama needed only the few items she and Papa did not produce on their small mountain farm--sugar, shoes, coffee, and another kettle to replace the one that cracked. She must not buy more than they and the llama could carry home."Stay here, Lila," Mama said. "I must speak with Mr. Miraz about purchasing our wool."Lila waited patiently, but as the meeting with the weaver stretched long, her attention was diverted by cages of brightly colored birds. Then by the spicy aroma of cooking meat. Before she knew it, Lila had wandered out of sight of the weaver's booth.When s