Rusty was a little red car with a very shiny coat of paint. He loved to zoom! More than anything, Rusty loved racing. Every year, the town of Willow Creek held the Big Willow Race, and Rusty dreamed of winning. He practiced every day, whizzing around the park, carefully navigating the winding paths, and polishing his headlights until they gleamed.
This year, the race was extra special. Old Man Tiber, the kind mechanic who kept all the cars in Willow Creek running smoothly, had built a brand new, super-fast track. Everyone was excited! But just the day before the race, a terrible thing happened. Bessie, a sweet, blue delivery van, broke down right in front of Old Man Tiber’s garage. Bessie delivered all the fresh fruit and vegetables to the town, and without her, everyone would be having very plain breakfasts!
Rusty zoomed past Bessie, practicing a particularly tricky turn. He saw Old Man Tiber looking worried. “Oh dear,” he heard the mechanic say, “Bessie’s engine is completely stuck. I don’t know if I can fix it in time for the race, let alone get Bessie back on her route.” Rusty almost kept going. Winning the race was *so* important to him. But then he remembered how Bessie always waved to him when he practiced, and how she always had a cheerful honk for everyone.
Rusty stopped. “Old Man Tiber,” he said, “Can I help?” The mechanic looked surprised. “Rusty? But… the race!” Rusty shook his shiny red hood. “The race is tomorrow. Bessie needs help *now*. Maybe I can pull some of the lighter tools for you, or hold the flashlight?” Old Man Tiber smiled. “That’s very kind of you, Rusty. That’s a very kind offer indeed.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Rusty helped Old Man Tiber. He fetched wrenches, held the flashlight steady, and even used his little horn to signal when a specific tool was needed. It was hard work, and Rusty worried he wouldn’t have enough energy for the race. But he kept going, thinking about all the yummy fruits and vegetables Bessie delivered.
Finally, with a sputter and a cough, Bessie’s engine roared back to life! Old Man Tiber patted Bessie’s hood. “Good as new!” Bessie honked happily. “Oh, thank you, Rusty! And thank you, Old Man Tiber! You saved my deliveries!” Rusty felt a warm glow inside, even warmer than the feeling of zooming down a hill.
The next day, Rusty raced. He didn’t win. In fact, he came in third. A speedy silver sports car named Zoom took first place. But Rusty didn’t mind at all. He waved to Bessie as she cheered him on from the sidelines, and he knew he’d done something much more important than winning a race. He’d helped a friend, and that felt even better than being the fastest car in Willow Creek.
After the race, Old Man Tiber gave Rusty a special polishing cloth. “You showed true sportsmanship, Rusty,” he said. “And kindness is always the fastest way to win hearts.” Rusty smiled, his shiny red paint gleaming. He knew Old Man Tiber was right. As he drifted off to sleep that night, Rusty dreamed not of winning races, but of helping others and being a good friend. And that, he thought, was the best dream of all.