Tiny Miko sat trembling on a soft towel, his little body shivering with fear. He had scraped his leg while playing earlier that day — a small wound, but enough to make him cry every time it stung. His mom was by his side, holding a gentle hand on his back, ready to clean and paint the wound with medicine.
But Miko didn’t understand that it was for his own good. When he saw the small bottle in her hand, his eyes went wide. “Eee! Eee! EEEEE!” he screamed, clinging to the towel as if it could protect him. His voice echoed through the room — a mix of fear, pain, and pure baby panic.
His mom tried to soothe him, speaking softly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just a little bit, then it’ll feel better.” But Miko kept twisting and squirming, tears rolling down his tiny cheeks. The moment the medicine touched his wound, he let out his loudest cry yet, his little fingers clutching her arm tightly.
The caretaker nearby winced, feeling his fear. Yet Miko’s mom stayed calm, blowing gently on the wound to ease the sting. Slowly, his cries grew softer. His breathing slowed. His mom kissed his tiny forehead and whispered, “See? All done, my brave baby.”
Miko looked up at her with watery eyes, still sniffling but comforted. She wiped his tears with her thumb, then wrapped him in her arms.
Within minutes, the trembling stopped. He pressed his face against her chest, his heartbeat slowly matching hers — safe again.
That evening, Miko limped a little but was already smiling, chasing soft leaves in the yard. The pain was gone, and all that remained was love — stronger than the sting, deeper than the fear.
