The sky was dull that morning, clouds hanging low as if they had forgotten how to move. Even the air felt quiet. Lolo noticed it first—not the clouds, but his dad.
His dad sat nearby, staring into nothing, his shoulders heavy with something Lolo didn’t understand. There was no laughter, no playful voice calling his name. Just silence.
Lolo tilted his tiny head, watching carefully. He didn’t know why his dad looked so sad, but he knew one thing—he wanted to fix it.
Slowly, Lolo toddled closer.
He raised his little hands and began to wave them in the air, drawing invisible shapes. Red… orange… yellow… He giggled softly, spinning in a tiny circle as if he were painting colors across the gray sky.
“Da… da…” he called, his voice gentle but hopeful.
His dad blinked, finally noticing him.
Lolo kept going. He stretched his arms wide, then curved them overhead, making a big arc—his version of a rainbow. He wiggled his fingers like falling sparkles, adding magic only he could see.
A small sound escaped his dad’s lips—almost a laugh.
Encouraged, Lolo clapped his hands and repeated the motion, bigger this time, brighter, as if his joy could chase away every shadow. He bounced on his feet, his tiny performance full of love.
And then it happened.
His dad smiled.
It wasn’t big at first, just a soft curve breaking through the heaviness. But to Lolo, it was everything. He squealed happily, rushing forward and wrapping his small arms around his dad.
His dad held him close, the sadness slowly melting away in the warmth of that tiny embrace.
Outside, the sky was still gray.
But in that moment, Lolo had created something brighter than any rainbow—hope, drawn with love, just for his dad.
