The Crooked Letter

"Papi, Why is the sky blue?" Rachel asked. She was lying on her back in the shallow meadow, bits of grass and catkins clinging to her green and white checked frock and pinafore. Nearby sat her father on a fold up stool, under the weaping arms of an ancient willow tree, emptying the picnic hamper they'd packed earlier that morning. "Papi, Papi! Why is the sky blue?" Her father smiled and answered ryely, "Because 'Why' is a crooked letter that can't be straightened, Sweety. Come here and help me with the sandwiches and chicken."