

Sunny finds a little cup picture on her table. “This is my invisible cup,” she says. “It holds my happy.” Today she feels a tiny empty. “I can fill it,” Sunny whispers.

Morning comes, and Sunny feels droopy. “Hello, feelings,” she says kindly. “You can stay, and I can breathe.” She puts a hand on her belly. In, out, slow and soft.

“Smell the flower. Blow the candle,” Sunny sings. She pretends to hold a flower, then a candle. In, out, three times. “My cup likes that,” she smiles.

“Glug, glug,” Sunny sips cool water. Drops tinkle the cup. “Thank you, water,” she says. Her shoulders relax. Her invisible cup feels a little fuller.

“Stretch tall like a tree,” Sunny says. She reaches up, wiggles toes, and twirls. “Shake, wiggle, freeze!” she laughs. Her giggles bubble up. Her cup sparkles inside.

“I am kind. I am brave. I am Sunny,” she says to the mirror. She gives herself a squeeze-hug. Her cup glows warm and bright.

“Time for quiet,” Sunny whispers. She builds a cozy nest with blanket and pillow. She listens to calm silence. Her eyes feel soft. Her cup settles, steady and strong.

“Colors!” Sunny cheers. She draws a giant cup and bright stars. She adds hearts, suns, and swirls. “These are my good things,” she says. Her cup swishes happy colors.

“Crunch,” goes the apple. Sunny tastes sweet juice and smiles. “Thank you, body,” she says. Her tummy sings a tiny song. Her cup feels plump and peaceful.

A grumpy cloud passes through Sunny. “Hello again,” she says softly. She pats her heart and hums a small song. “I can wait kindly.” Her cup stays steady.

Sunny waters her little plant and sets out crayons for later. “I can share when I’m full,” she says. She saves a sticker for tomorrow. Her cup smiles.

Night falls gentle. Sunny thinks of three good things and whispers, “Thank you, day.” She snuggles in, hands on heart. “I filled my cup.” Tomorrow, she will fill it again.