Lala had always loved the playground near her home. It wasn’t just a place with swings and slides — it was where she met her friends every morning, where her laughter echoed under the shade of the big old trees, and where her tiny feet had learned to run faster than the wind.
But one sunny afternoon, Lala overheard Mom talking to a neighbor. The city had decided to move the playground to another location to make space for new buildings. Lala’s little heart sank. The thought of her favorite place disappearing felt like losing a best friend.
The next day, she went to the playground and looked at it differently. The bright yellow slide, the creaky swing, and even the slightly wobbly seesaw suddenly seemed more precious. She touched the slide’s smooth surface and whispered, “Don’t go…”
When her friends arrived, Lala told them the news. Their smiles faded, and together they sat quietly on the sandbox, watching the workers mark the ground with orange paint. Even the usual chirping of birds seemed quieter, as if they understood what was happening.
Over the next week, Lala visited every day, making sure to play on every piece of equipment one last time. She swung higher than ever, slid down the slide over and over, and hugged the big tree whose roots curled around the sandbox.
Finally, the moving day came. Trucks arrived, and the playground equipment was taken apart piece by piece. Lala stood beside Mom, holding her hand tightly. A tear rolled down her cheek, but Mom knelt and said gently, “The playground will be rebuilt in a new place. We can go there together.”
It wasn’t the same, but Lala nodded. She realized that while the location would change, the fun, the laughter, and the friendships could still follow her.
A week later, she visited the new playground. It looked different, but when she saw her friends waving from the swings, Lala smiled. The games could continue — just in a new home.
If you’d like, I can also make a more emotional version with deeper sensory details so Lala’s sadness feels even stronger.
