Little Zhuly squirmed on the soft cloth, her tiny body restless as she cried out in discomfort. Her diaper rash had grown itchy and sore, and now, after a full messy poop, she was even more uncomfortable. The smell lingered, but what hurt more was the sting on her tender skin.
Dad came quickly, knowing his baby girl needed him. With calm hands, he began to clean her gently, careful not to press too hard where the rash was worst. Zhuly kicked her little legs and let out sharp squeals, as if to say, “It hurts, Daddy, please be careful!” Each wipe made her whimper, her eyes wide and watery, searching for comfort.
Dad’s heart sank hearing those cries. He spoke softly, whispering her name again and again, trying to ease her fear. The cleaning was slow—every corner had to be cleared so the rash wouldn’t worsen. The warm water helped, but Zhuly still felt the sting and wiggled with frustration, her face red from crying.
Finally, the mess was gone. Dad patted her dry and carefully applied soothing cream over the irritated rash. Zhuly shivered at first, but soon her crying softened into faint whimpers. Her tiny fists unclenched, and she reached toward him, needing the safety of his arms.
Dad lifted her gently, pressing her close to his chest. The warmth of his hug and the rhythm of his heartbeat calmed her more than any medicine. Slowly, her breathing steadied, and her eyes began to close, exhausted from the struggle.
Though the rash still itched, Zhuly was no longer scared. She had her dad by her side, ready to clean, comfort, and hold her through every painful moment. In that embrace, she found peace again.
