Monkey Lyly twirled happily in front of the mirror, admiring her favorite pink skirt—the one with tiny flowers and ribbons. She felt like a princess today, ready to show it off to her friends. But as she hurried outside to play, excitement got the better of her. She leaped over a fence, and—RIP! A sharp edge caught the fabric. Lyly froze.
She looked down in horror. A long tear stretched across the back of her skirt.
Her heart thudded. “Oh no! Mom will be so angry!” Panic swept through her. She tried covering it with her hands, then with her tail, but nothing worked. Too embarrassed to face her friends, she ran behind a tree, breathing shakily. Her eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t mean to…” she whispered to herself.
Not knowing what else to do, Lyly sneaked back home, tiptoeing through the door. She rushed to her room, hoping to fix it with tape or glue—but the fabric kept slipping. The tear only grew worse. Frustrated and scared, she sat on the floor, hugging her knees.
Just then, Mom walked in.
Lyly stiffened. Mom’s gaze fell on the damaged skirt. Silence. Lyly expected yelling, disappointment—maybe even punishment. Instead, Mom knelt down softly. “Did you get hurt?” she asked gently. Lyly blinked in surprise. “N-No…” she whispered.
Mom examined the tear, then wrapped her arms around Lyly. “Skirts can be fixed,” she said. “But you? You can’t be replaced.”
Tears spilled from Lyly’s eyes—not from fear, but relief. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she sniffled. “I didn’t mean to ruin it.”
Mom smiled. “Accidents happen, little monkey. Next time, just tell me.”
That evening, they sat together at the sewing table. Mom carefully stitched the skirt, adding a small flower patch to cover the tear. “Now,” she said, holding it up, “it’s even more special—just like you.”
Lyly hugged her tightly. She learned something important that day: mistakes don’t break love… they only sew hearts closer.
And every time she wore that skirt afterward, she remembered—not fear—but forgiveness.
