Priya loved to dance.
Especially when the sunbeams made dusty rivers in the living room. She would pretend she was a bumblebee, buzzing from one sunny spot to the next.
She wiggled her fingers. Bzzzzzz.
She wiggled her nose. Bzzzzzz.
She did a big, buzzy, bottom-wiggle dance all the way across the rug.
On the little table by the window sat Mama's special vase. It was shiny and blue, like a piece of the summer sky kept inside the house. Priya was not supposed to touch the vase.
But today, Priya's bumblebee dance was a very wobbly one. She wobbled on her tiptoes. She wobbled on her heels. She wobbled right past the little table.
Her elbow went bump.
The blue vase began to wobble, too.
Tinkle... tinkle... it whispered.
Then— CRASH!
The big sound filled the whole room. The dancing stopped. The sunbeams seemed to stop. Everything was quiet and still.
Where the blue sky vase used to be, there were now sharp, sparkly blue pieces on the rug.
A wobble started inside Priya's tummy. Her heart went thump-thump-thump. She ran from the living room, her feet making no sound. She squeezed herself into her favorite hiding spot, under the kitchen table, where it was shady and small. She hugged her knees and made herself as tiny as a little gray mouse.
She heard footsteps. Soft and slow.
"Priya?" called Mama. "Where did you go?"
Priya held her breath. The wobble in her tummy got bigger.
Mama's feet stopped right by the table. Mama bent down and peeked under the tablecloth. Her face was not loud or angry. It was soft.
"Oh, there you are," she said.
Priya didn't say anything. A tear rolled down her cheek.
Mama sat down on the floor and held out her hand. "Come on out, my little bumblebee."
Priya crawled out. She took Mama's hand, and together they walked back to the living room. Priya pointed with a shaky finger. "It broke," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Mama."
"I see that," said Mama. She gave Priya's hand a little squeeze. "Thank you for telling me. Accidents happen."
Mama went to the kitchen. She came back with a little dustpan and an empty glass jar.
She knelt on the rug. "Will you look at these," she said, pointing to the pieces. "They sparkle like tiny jewels."
Priya knelt down, too. The pieces did look like jewels. Mama carefully swept the biggest ones into the pan. Then she let Priya help sweep the little, glittery bits.
Tinkle, tinkle, went the pieces as they slid from the dustpan into the glass jar. It was a much friendlier sound this time.
When they were all done, they had a jar full of sparkly blue treasure. It caught the sunbeams and threw tiny blue rainbows on the wall.
Mama put the jar on the windowsill.
Then she scooped Priya up into the biggest, squeeziest hug. Priya wrapped her arms around Mama's neck and buried her face there. The wobble in her tummy was all gone. All she could feel was the warm, strong hug.
And the next time Priya danced her bumblebee dance, she buzzed a little further from the little table by the window.
Bzzzzzz.
