One night, my 4-year-old’s scream—“MOMMY! I NEED YOU!”—sent me racing, heart pounding. Nightmare? Pain?
In his dim room, wide-eyed, he clutched his beloved stuffed dragon, one wing dangling by a thread. “Mom, I…” he whispered, voice urgent with worry, not fear.
I sat, took the toy. Night-light glowed. “He got hurt flying too fast in my dream,” he explained, imagination soaring.
I smiled: “Even brave dragons need mending.” He leaned close as I stitched slowly, asking how real things fix. “Care for what you love,” I said.
Final knot tied—he beamed, hugged dragon tight. Tucked in, he yawned: “Thanks, Mom, for helping.”
Door closed, gratitude swelled. Love in quiet stitches, midnight care—small acts weaving lifelong bonds.
