The Quiet Thunder

A soft rumble rolled over the meadow, and a brand-new little friend, smaller even than Pip, hid trembling under a leaf, too scared of the quiet thunder to say a word. Milo remembered his own first night, when a flutter of worry had felt so very big.

So Milo knelt the way Lumi once had for him, and gently helped the little one name the fear out loud: it is the thunder, and it is loud, and I am right here. Naming it made it smaller. Then one slow breath together, then one small step out from under the leaf.

All the season's friends gathered close, remembering every lesson they had learned, while the thunder softened to a sleepy hum. The littlest friend held Milo's hand, no longer alone. Naming a fear, Milo passed on, can make it feel smaller, and Lumi glowed, proud of the child who had become a lantern for someone else. Goodnight, the whole meadow whispered, and slept.