That morning, Scarlett didnāt feel like talking.
The words were there somewhere, she was sure of it ā but they felt too big, too tangled, or maybe just too tired to come out.
So she stayed quiet.
She carried Lenny the Lion with her from room to room, his soft fur tucked under her arm. Lenny didnāt ask questions. He never hurried her. He was very good at waiting.
At Scarlettās feet, Pudding followed along, stopping every now and then to look back at her, just to check she was still there.
Scarlett liked that.
At breakfast, she didnāt say much.
At the door, she paused instead of rushing.
The world felt loud, even though no one was shouting.
āDo I have to explain?ā she wondered.
She sat down on the step and hugged Lenny tight.
If Lenny could speak, Scarlett knew he would say something like:
Quiet is not wrong.
Quiet is a feeling too.
So Scarlett let the quiet stay.
She watched a leaf fall from the tree outside.
She counted Puddingās slow, steady breaths as he rested beside her.
She noticed how the morning light made everything look softer.
And slowly ā without trying ā the tight feeling in her chest loosened.
Not enough to talk.
Not yet.
But enough to breathe.
Scarlett stood up when she was ready.
No one made her explain.
No one told her to hurry.
And in that space, she learned something important:
You donāt always have to use words to be understood.
Sometimes being quiet is exactly what your heart needs.
She picked up Lenny.
Patted Pudding.
And stepped back into the day ā carrying her quiet with care.
š«¶ A gentle wonder to share
Have you ever had a time when you didnāt feel like talking?
What helped you feel a little better?