The Worry with a Pocket-Sized Chair

A scribble came looping in ribbons of blue,then tangled her fingers and muddled her head.It perched on her slippers and wriggled below.“I don’t want the party,” Mina quietly said.

“It isn’t the kites or the garden next door.This wobble has wobbled inside me before.It comes when things change, though I don’t know what for.And that is my answer—I don’t know much more.”

High on the shelf, where they waited all day,Pip and Ponder sat still as could be.But Pip leapt down. “I can fix it!” he cried.“Let’s listen,” said Ponder. “Come sit here with me.”

They sat with the scribble on Mina’s soft rug,while Ponder took out his notebook and pen.“Who are you, blue wobble?” he asked it out loud.“I’m Worry. I come when things change now and then.”

They found a small chair with a cushion of goldand one wobbly leg that went wiggle and sway.“Sit here, little Worry. There’s room for you too.Now tell us what’s frightening Mina today.”

“New faces,” said Worry. “New games I don’t know.What if nobody asks her to play?”“That’s honest and helpful. Thank you,” Ponder said,and wrote every word in his notebook that day.

Then Mina found Mama downstairs by the sink.“Mama, there’s something I need you to know.”Mama sat down on the floor by her side.“I’m listening, Mina. Take all of it slow.”

“It’s blue and all loopy, with knots everywhere.It’s frightened of faces and games that are new.”“Then Worry can come to the party with us.And if you need stopping, we’ll stop there with you.”

Then Pip gave a hop. “We’ll try only three—not all of the party, just three little things.”From his blue pocket, he pulled a green crayon,and Mina drew steps she could carry like wings.

“Hold Mama’s hand. Give one wave to Noor.Watch one yellow kite sail high in the blue.”Mina tucked the plan in her pocket, then breathed slow.Worry grew pocket-small and tucked in there too.

At last they set out on the sun-yellow road,with Mama and Pip hop-walking beside.In Mina’s own pocket, with her three-step plan,Worry curled by a mint for the ride.

“You may come and watch. You may whisper to meif the party grows busy or loud.But I choose every step, and I choose where we go.”Ponder smiled, softly proud.

Noor waved both her hands like two bright kite tailsthat danced in the breeze by the gate.Mina held Mama. Small Worry went wobble.Noor smiled. “I am happy to wait.”

“Hello,” breathed Mina. “Hello,” whispered Noor.Pip bowed till his ears brushed the ground.One hello was enough for one brave little start.Then Mina and Noor looked around.

Noor needed help with the long ribbon tailswhile tying each knot snug and tight.Mina held one. Then another felt easy.Then—zing!—flew the yellow kite.

From Mina’s pocket, Worry peeped at the sky,now small as one bright little bead.“I don’t need all of the party,” said Mina.“One piece that feels right is the piece that I need.”

Back home, little Worry curled up like a commaon the chair by Mina’s bed.“You listened the first time, so I could stay quiet.I never once needed to shout,” Worry said.

Ponder wrote one last line in his ochre-brown book.Pip climbed with one red ribbon thread.Ponder followed him back to the shelf,but the small yellow chair stayed by Mina’s bed.

Worry stayed welcome, and Worry stayed small.“It can stay,” Mina said. “There is room for it all.”