Late one night, Julia, my 3-year-old, woke me in tears. “Mama! There’s a monster under my bed!” she cried, trembling. I hugged her, reassured her, and tucked her back in.
An hour later, she whispered again, “Mama… it’s still there.” My heart raced as I peeked under the bed—and froze. Our new kitten, Luna, was curled up beneath the mattress, her glowing eyes mistaken for a monster in the dim light.
I picked up Luna and showed her to Julia. Instantly, giggles replaced fear. “So the monster was fluffy?” she whispered, hugging the kitten tightly.
From then on, Julia peeked under her bed to check on her “little monster,” and I realized that sometimes, what scares us most just needs a little light—and love—to be understood.
