Little Selena followed her mom with hurried, unsteady steps, her tiny feet barely keeping balance. Mom was trying to teach her how to play on her own, gently placing toys in front of her and stepping back just a little. But to Selena, that small distance felt huge. The moment Mom turned away, Selena’s face crumpled, and a loud scream burst from her chest.
Her cry was sharp and demanding, filled with loneliness. She stretched her arms forward, fingers reaching, refusing to touch the toys meant for her. Playing alone made no sense to her. All she wanted was Mom close, watching, guiding, staying. Each step Mom took away made Selena scream louder, her voice echoing through the space.
Mom paused and encouraged her softly, pointing to the toys, showing her how to tap, grab, and explore. Selena tried to follow, but fear pulled her forward instead. She waddled after Mom, crying loudly, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her screams weren’t anger. They were confusion. Why play, when love was walking away?
Mom knelt down and gently guided Selena’s hands back to the toys, staying close this time. The screaming softened into whimpers. Selena glanced between Mom and the toy, unsure. Slowly, with Mom still beside her, she touched it. A small moment, but a brave one.
Mom smiled, praising her softly. Selena looked up, reassured. The loneliness faded when she realized Mom wasn’t leaving, just teaching. She let out a final small cry, then leaned into Mom’s leg, calm returning.
Learning to play was hard. Being independent was scary. But Selena learned something important that day. Even when Mom steps back, love stays close. And with patience, fear slowly turns into confidence, one tiny step at a time.
