Tiny baby Moonpie was only a few weeks old, but already his big round eyes sparkled with curiosity. Every sound, every rustle, and every movement in the world seemed to capture his attention. Today, the air was fresh and warm, and Moonpie’s mom had led him to the edge of the cool, rippling water. She stepped cautiously at first, her hands testing the surface.
Moonpie sat close by, watching her every move. His little hands clung to a low branch, his head tilting this way and that as if trying to understand what Mom was doing. He had never seen her enter the water before—it seemed strange and maybe even a little dangerous to his young mind.
Then, with a gentle leap, Mom jumped right into the water. The splash startled Moonpie instantly. His tiny heart pounded, and his eyes went wide in panic. A loud, sharp cry burst from his mouth as if he feared his mom had vanished forever beneath the surface. His little body trembled, his calls echoing around the banks.
Mom resurfaced almost instantly, calm and smiling, but Moonpie was still too frightened to stop calling for her. He leaned forward, stretching his small hands out, desperate for reassurance. Mom quickly swam back to the edge and climbed out, shaking off the water. She gathered her tiny baby into her warm arms, pressing him close.
Feeling the familiar comfort of her touch, Moonpie slowly calmed down. His frightened cries turned into soft whimpers, and soon, his curiosity returned—he peered down at the water again, perhaps wondering if one day he might be brave enough to jump in just like Mom. For now, though, he was happiest in her arms, safe and dry.
