The room was quiet—until A Tong’s world suddenly flipped upside down.
One moment, he was in his mom’s arms, warm and secure. The next, she gently placed him on the table to finish her task. To her, it was just for a moment. To A Tong, it felt like everything changed.
His face froze.
Then it crumpled.
A loud cry burst out of him, sharp and full of protest. “Eh! Eh!” His tiny hands slapped against the table as his legs kicked in frustration. He didn’t want to be there—he wanted her.
Now.
His cries grew louder, echoing through the room. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he rolled onto his side, then onto his back, his small body twisting dramatically across the table.
He kicked harder, his movements messy and emotional, as if trying to escape the feeling of being left alone. The table rattled slightly beneath him, his little tantrum growing bigger by the second.
“Mom!” his cries seemed to say, even without words.
His mom turned quickly, concern flashing across her face. “A Tong…” she called, stepping closer.
But he kept crying.
Rolling, kicking, reaching—his whole body expressing the anger and sadness he couldn’t explain. Being put down wasn’t what he wanted. Not even for a second.
Seeing his distress, she didn’t wait.
She scooped him back into her arms.
Instantly, A Tong clung to her, his cries still loud but already softening. His tiny hands gripped tightly, as if making sure she wouldn’t let go again.
“I’m here,” she whispered, rocking him gently.
Slowly, the storm faded.
His rolling stopped.
His cries turned into small, shaky breaths.
Because sometimes, all it takes is one moment apart for a little heart to feel lost—and one warm embrace to make everything right again.
