Jada sat on the cool floor, eyes fixed on the doorway, his little hands resting on his round belly. He had been promised yogurt, his favorite treat, soft and sweet, perfect for his hungry morning. But Mom was taking too long. Minutes passed slowly, stretching into something painful for his tiny heart.
At first, Jada only whimpered. Small sounds slipped from his throat as he rocked back and forth, trying to be patient. He remembered the taste, the way yogurt made him feel safe and full. His stomach growled again, louder this time, and the patience he tried so hard to hold began to crack.
Tears welled up and spilled over. Jada cried louder now, his voice trembling with sadness and frustration. He crawled closer to the door, peeking outside, hoping to see Mom coming with the bowl. Nothing. He slapped the floor once, then hugged himself, crying harder. To him, waiting felt like being forgotten.
Caregivers nearby spoke gently, telling him Mom would be back soon. Jada shook his head and screamed in reply. He didn’t want words. He wanted yogurt. He wanted Mom. His cries echoed, full of longing, his face wet and red from effort.
Then, footsteps. Jada froze, holding his breath. The door opened, and Mom appeared, holding the small bowl and spoon. Jada’s cry broke into desperate joy. He rushed forward, stumbling into her legs, still crying but already calmer.
Mom lifted him and sat down, wiping his tears. She fed him slowly, spoon by spoon. With every bite, Jada relaxed. His sobs faded. His shoulders dropped. The world felt right again.
By the time the bowl was empty, Jada leaned against Mom, quiet and tired. Waiting had hurt, but love had returned. In that gentle moment, Jada learned that even when patience is hard, comfort always comes back
