Michael sits cross-legged on his bed, clutching his favorite teddy bear, eyes wide with worry. The walls are lined with drawings and photos of his friends, school, and grandparents—memories he fears losing forever. His father stands by the door, hesitant, watching as Michael struggles to process the upcoming move.
"Dad, do we really have to leave? What if I never see Grandma again?"
His father kneels beside him, voice gentle and understanding.
"I know it's hard, Michael. But we'll visit home, and Grandma will always love you—no matter where we are."
Michael presses his face against the window, watching his school fade into the distance. The car is filled with a hush, broken only by the soft murmur of his parents trying to comfort him. In his lap, the teddy bear offers silent companionship as he feels his heart tugged in two directions.
"Will my friends remember me?"
His mother reaches back, squeezing his hand tenderly.
"Of course they will, Michael. We can send them letters and pictures from our new home."
Michael steps out, overwhelmed by the sights and smells—a bakery nearby fills the air with sweet pastry aromas, while the streets are alive with people bustling about. He clings tightly to his father, uncertain and shy. Boxes are unloaded, and a new door opens to a world he doesn’t yet understand.
"Everything looks so different. I don’t know anyone here."
His father smiles, kneeling to meet his gaze.
"Let's explore together. Maybe we'll find something special, just for you."
Michael sits on a bench, watching the other kids play. He feels a pang of loneliness until a small boy approaches, offering a bright red ball. Hesitant, Michael accepts, and suddenly the world seems a little warmer.
"Do you want to play with us?"
Michael nods, his smile timid but genuine.
"Okay... I’d like that."
Michael[/@ch_1] to the class.]
He stands at the front, nervous but hopeful, scanning the faces of his new classmates. A girl waves shyly, and the teacher encourages him to join a group project. As Michael builds a paper house with his new friends, he begins to feel a sense of belonging.
"I like making things. My grandma taught me," he shares, and the children listen eagerly.
"Maybe you can show us more!" one of them suggests.
Michael sits at the dinner table, surrounded by his parents. Laughter fills the room as he recounts his adventures—the ball game, the classroom project, the bakery treats. He realizes he’s found joy in new places, and his heart feels lighter.
"I miss Grandma and my friends, but I like it here now. Can we send them pictures tomorrow?"
His father beams, embracing Michael with pride.
"Of course, Michael. This is our new adventure, together."
