Monkey Lyly had spent the afternoon exploring the garden, happily picking flowers and chasing butterflies. Her tiny feet patted against the dirt path as she made her way home, a few wildflowers clutched in her hand, ready to show her mom. But the moment she stepped into the house… something felt wrong.
Everything was gone.
The familiar sounds of cooking in the kitchen were missing. Her favorite chair in the corner was no longer there. The warm scent of her mother’s presence had vanished into silence. Lyly stood frozen at the doorway, clutching the flowers tightly, her eyes wide with confusion.
“Mama?” she called softly, her voice echoing into the emptiness. No answer.
She walked from room to room—her small bed had been stripped, the toy basket emptied, and the kitchen table bare. The curtains still fluttered in the breeze, but it felt like the whole house had been swallowed by silence. Panic began to rise in her little chest.
She called again, louder this time. “Mama! Where are you?”
Still, nothing.
Lyly’s heart pounded. She sat on the cold floor, tears beginning to fill her eyes. She had never come home to nothing. Never experienced this kind of emptiness. Her tiny fingers clutched her flowers tightly now, not out of excitement, but out of fear.
Then, just as a tear slipped down her cheek, the front door creaked open.
In walked her mother—carrying bags of groceries and a big, surprised smile. “Lyly! You’re back! I just went out for a few minutes,” she laughed, setting the bags down.
Lyly ran straight into her arms, bursting into tears and burying her face in her mother’s neck. Her mom gently hugged her close and whispered, “Shh, I’m here now. I’ll always come back.”
Lyly nodded through sniffles, holding on tight. Everything was okay again.
Sometimes, even just a few minutes of absence can feel like forever—but for Lyly, home isn’t just a place. Home is where her mama is.
