In a quiet corner of the sanctuary, young mother Mila sat on a soft patch of grass, watching carefully. A few feet away, her two tiny babies—barely old enough to balance—stood wobbling on uncertain legs.
They had always been cradled, carried, and held close. But today, Mila was trying something new: letting them walk to her.
It wasn’t easy—for them or her.
The babies looked confused at first. Why wasn’t Mama picking them up? Where was her comforting touch? One gave a soft cry, the other clung to a low branch, unsure of the distance between them.
But Mila didn’t move. Her eyes were full of encouragement, and her arms open wide. She chirped softly, letting them know she was there, waiting, cheering them on in her silent way.
The braver baby took a step. Wobbly. Almost fell.
Then the second joined, unsure but trying. Step by step, they inched forward—tripping, slipping, but getting back up.
Mila watched with pride, though her heart wanted to run and scoop them up. Instead, she stayed still, patient, strong.
Finally—they reached her. One fell into her lap, the other crawled the last step, burying its tiny face into her fur.
Mila wrapped them both in her arms, grooming their heads gently. She didn’t say it, but they understood: “You did it. Mama’s so proud.”
In those few feet of struggle, Mila taught them more than how to walk—she taught them strength, courage, and trust.
