Maya's Brave First Morning

The Yellow Backpack

Maya's new backpack was yellow enough to look brave all by itself. Maya did not feel yellow. She felt grey and fluttery as she stood outside the classroom door.

Inside, chairs scraped. Someone laughed. A teacher with silver earrings knelt beside her. “You do not have to feel ready for the whole day,” she said. “Can you be ready for the next small thing?”

Maya could hang one backpack on one hook. She did.

Three Small Things

The next small thing was choosing a name card. Maya found the M. Then a boy called Ravi could not find the R, so they looked together. The R had slipped beneath the S.

After that came a picture. Maya painted a grey cloud with a yellow door. Ravi painted a green boat. Neither knew what to say, so they quietly swapped the blue and red paint when they needed it.

At playtime, the playground looked enormous. Maya stood by the wall until she saw another child turning a skipping rope alone. “Could I turn the other end?” Maya asked. That was the third small thing.

The Same Door

When Maya's grown-up returned, Maya ran straight into familiar arms. “Were you brave all day?” they asked.

Maya considered this. She had felt fluttery at the door, lonely by the wall and unsure beside the paints. “No,” she said. “I was brave for one hook, one letter and one skipping rope.”

The next morning the same classroom door waited. Maya still had a small grey flutter. But now Ravi waved from inside, and the yellow backpack no longer had to be brave all by itself.