Make the Wind Stop  Scotty wanted the impossible, and she
couldn’t give it to him. But maybe she could help, just as
someone had helped her.  Make the Wind Stop  Sixteen-year-old
Jenny Bales gathered her three charges and placed them around
the park table to eat their lunch. Her stomach was sending hurry
signals to her hands to open her own bag. Lunches were usually
quiet, and after a hard morning it gave her time to think. The
deep pain was still resting just past her empty stomach. She
would try to understand it a little more today.  She pulled an
apple from her sack and looked across the table only to see
Scotty Redman staring at her, frustration wrinkling his face
into a frown.  Angrily, he slapped his square-fingered hand on
the park table and cried, “Make it stop, Miss Baoes! Make da win
stop! I don like it. My bag bow away.”  Jenny listened to a boy
a year older than her wail like a small child. She felt a small
knot replace the hunger pains in her stomach. In the last two
months she had worked with Do