BiBi had never taken anything that didn’t belong to her—until today. The morning had started like any other in their small, sunlit kitchen. Mom was busy preparing breakfast, humming softly as she stirred a pot of porridge. But BiBi couldn’t focus. Her little sister, LaLa, sat curled in a corner, her stomach rumbling quietly.
The pantry was nearly empty. Dad had lost his job months ago, and every meal was a struggle. BiBi knew Mom was doing her best, but when she saw the crumpled bills tucked in the back of the drawer—probably set aside for rent or a utility bill—something inside her cracked.
She didn’t think. She just took it.
Sneaking out, BiBi raced to the corner bakery. The smell of warm, fresh bread wrapped around her like a blanket, soothing the guilt in her chest. She bought two loaves—the soft kind LaLa loved—and hurried back home before Mom could notice she was gone.
“LaLa,” she whispered, handing her sister a piece. LaLa’s eyes lit up as she bit into the warm crust, her face glowing with happiness. It was worth it, BiBi told herself.
But her joy didn’t last long.
Mom found the missing money that afternoon. Her voice shook when she asked, “Did you take it, BiBi?”
BiBi’s eyes filled with tears. She nodded, unable to speak.
To her surprise, Mom didn’t yell. She knelt down, looked BiBi in the eyes, and pulled her into a hug. “I know you were trying to help,” Mom said gently. “But we can’t fix things by stealing—even from each other.”
BiBi cried into her mother’s shoulder, the guilt finally spilling out.
That night, they ate the bread together, as a family. And though they still had little, they made a promise: to be honest, to hold on to hope, and to take care of one another—no matter what.
