Junie considered this, her tiny hands stroking Clove’s feathers. Finally, she nodded, a small but brave acceptance shining in her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss Clove’s head.
The compromise seemed to satisfy everyone, and as we walked back home, Junie skipped ahead, swinging the now empty wagon with a renewed lightness. I reflected on how much I’d learned from her that day. Her determination to protect something she loved taught me about the innocence and intensity of a child’s heart.
