Write a question from the passage such that it identifies a character (a person or a thing) in the passage.

Light dappled through the trees in the family courtyard, painting shadows on the paving stones. Li Reiko knelt by her son to look at his scraped knee.
"I just scratched it." Nawi squirmed under her hands.
Her daughter, Aya, leaned over her shoulder studying the healing. "Maybe Mama will show you her armor after she heals you."
Nawi stopped wiggling. "Really?"
Reiko shot Aya a warning look, but her little boy's dark eyes shone with excitement. Reiko smiled. "Really." What did tradition matter? "Now let me heal your knee." She laid her hand on the shallow wound.
"Ow."
"Shush." Reiko closed her eyes and rose in the dark space within her mind.
In her mind's eye, Reiko took her time with the ritual, knowing it took less time than it appeared. In a heartbeat, green fire flared out to the walls of her mind. She dissolved into it as she focused on healing her son.
When the wound closed beneath her hand, she sank to the surface of her mind.
"There." She tousled Nawi's hair. "That wasn't bad, was it?"
"It tickled." He wrinkled his nose. "Will you show me your armor now?"
She sighed. She should not encourage his interest in the martial arts. His work would be with the histories that men kept, and yet... "Watch."
Pulling the smooth black surface out of the ether, she manifested her armor. It sheathed her like silence in the night. Aya watched with obvious anticipation for the day when she earned her own armor. Nawi's face, full of sharp yearning for something he would never have, cut Reiko's heart like a new blade.
"Can I see your sword?"
She let her armor vanish back into thought. "No." Reiko brushed his hair from his eyes. "It's my turn to hide, right?"
Who scraped his/her knee?

If you visited the Getty Center in July or early August, you may have encountered a group of high school students wearing white lab coats with "Teen Lab" splattered across the back. You might have spotted them testing kinetic sculptures made from recycled materials, sketching in front of artworks in the galleries, or taking Polaroid self-portraits inspired by David Hockney's photocollages. Online, you may have seen the playful social media stories they created to share their experiments with artistic and scientific processes.
The teens were participants in the Getty Teen Lab, a four-week paid internship for high school students. Supported by a generous grant from the Vera R. Campbell Foundation, Teen Lab was the first of several teen-focused initiatives that the J. Paul Getty Museum is launching in 2017 and 2018.
The Getty's Education Department developed Teen Lab in response to several seemingly disconnected questions that many art museums are grappling with today: How can we engage diverse youth in meaningful ways? How can museums help meet the rising demand for K-12 curriculum that integrates Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Math (STEAM)? Can art museums themselves be sites for STEAM learning?
To address these questions, we looked at other teen programs and discovered that the most successful models are those that give teens agency and a voice in the museum.(1) For example, many museums have teen councils that program events for their peers or offer opportunities for students to collaborate on projects with artists.(2)
The Getty wanted to build on these models by empowering teens to be active creators of educational content. In keeping with this goal, we designed the program using the project-based learning approach, which develops skills and knowledge by inviting students to explore solutions to authentic, real-world problems.
Who made the grant for the program?

One spring it stopped raining in early March and didn't start again.
There was one very well-off bunny in the village who had a large burrow and lots of food saved up. He wasn't worried about the drought at all. The other bunnies, though, looked at the purple-red nettles withering in the fields and the mayweed that hadn't even flowered and wondered if they were going to have enough food to get them through the next winter.
The very well-off bunny was named Albertus, but everybody called him Big Al--at least they called him that when they were sure he couldn't hear them. Big Al was in fact a very large bunny with long, white, silky fur. He had lots of land that his parents had left to him, and he never let any of the other bunnies gather food there. The story was that Big Al had sat on the one bunny who tried to make off with some of his carrots until the small bunny begged for mercy. After Big Al let him up, the small bunny moved to another village.
One morning a dozen or more bunnies sat around the village square, licking the dew off the dried and wrinkled clover to quench their thirsts, and talking about the drought. There was still a bit of a cool breeze from Possum Creek, a mile or so away. Sophie Bunny, who was large and sleek, with a black circle around one eye, was there with her husband Lenny and their youngest, Ralph, who still lived at home with them.
"I don't mind telling you," Lenny said, "I'm getting a little scared by all this." Lenny was a small, tan bunny with buck teeth and big cheeks like a chipmunk.
"No need to be afraid," said the short, overweight Reverend Billy Bunny, the village's spiritual leader. "The Easter Bunny will provide." He sat, as he usually did, by the thick green hawthorn bush in the middle of the square--although the bush was neither as thick nor as green as it had once been.
Who wasn't worried about the drought?