Baby Yuri was sitting under the tree, arms crossed, pout on her face, refusing to move an inch.
Mom stood just a few feet away with a fresh bottle of warm milk in her hand, calling gently, “Yuri, come here, sweetheart. You can walk to Mommy now.”
But Yuri shook her head and turned away.
She was old enough to walk—just a few steps—but today, she didn’t feel like it. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe she wanted to be carried. Maybe she just wanted Mom to chase her.
Mom sighed. “Yuri, you know how to walk. I’m not going to carry you every time.”
Still, Yuri refused.
A moment passed.
Then two.
Then Yuri let out a dramatic cry, trying to make Mom feel guilty. “Waaahhh! Ehh! Ehhh!”
But Mom didn’t rush to her this time. Her face changed—kind, but disappointed.
“I love you, Yuri. But you have to try. You can’t always cry when things don’t go your way.”
Yuri sniffled, watching as the bottle slowly lowered in Mom’s hand. She realized she might actually miss her milk if she didn’t do something.
With one deep breath and a stubborn little stomp, Yuri stood up. Her tiny legs wobbled, but she took one step… then another… until she finally reached Mom.
Mom knelt down, smiling now. “That’s my strong girl.”
Yuri reached for the milk, but also leaned in close, pressing her head against Mom’s chest—her silent way of saying sorry.
Mom kissed her softly. “Next time, don’t make me wait so long, okay?”
And as Yuri drank her milk with sleepy eyes, her little heart felt full again—not just from food, but from love… and a tiny lesson learned.
