cover
On the old wooden bridge above the gentle river, Mira sits cross-legged in afternoon sunlight, her blonde hair blowing toward the sea breeze. Below, a woman steadies an elderly man carrying grocery bags while water sparkles beneath the planks.
Mira loved sitting on the old wooden bridge near her village. Her long blonde hair danced in the ocean breeze as she watched people below. Some neighbors smiled and waved. Others rushed past without looking up. A woman helped an elderly man carry groceries. Two boys pushed past a little girl, making her drop her book. Mira noticed everything. She wondered why people acted so differently. Some chose kindness. Others chose selfishness. The river flowed gently beneath her feet, peaceful and constant.
In the bright cafeteria at midday, Mira watches silently as a child who just spilled milk kneels beside a white puddle under fluorescent lights. Nearby, other students lean over tables laughing, their trays and colorful lunchboxes cluttering the scene.
At school, Mira saw the same patterns. Her friend Ana shared crayons with everyone. But Carlos took the last swing without asking. During lunch, some children laughed when others spilled milk. Mira felt confused. Why did unkindness spread so fast? It seemed easier to follow the crowd than stand alone. Her teacher, Miss Lopez, reminded the class to treat others with respect. But when the bell rang, everyone forgot. Mira's heart felt heavy with questions she couldn't answer.
On the windy playground outside, Tomas sits alone on a bench clutching an over-large book, his oversized glasses slipping down his nose. Mira stands a few steps away while children in the background point and giggle near the swings.
One Monday morning, a new boy named Tomas arrived. He had dark curly hair and wore glasses that were too big. Miss Lopez introduced him warmly. But at recess, a group of classmates pointed and giggled. They whispered mean things about his old shoes. Mira stood nearby, watching quietly. Part of her wanted to say hello. But another part feared being left out too. When everyone walked away from Tomas, Mira followed them. Her heart felt heavier than ever before.
That night in the warm kitchen, dim lamplight glows on Mira staring out the rain-speckled window toward the dark river. Her mother with gentle eyes pauses at the wooden table, a silent stew pot between them.
That night, Mira couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about Tomas sitting alone at lunch. She remembered his sad eyes when no one chose him for soccer. Mira wondered if kindness really mattered. Being selfish seemed easier. It kept you safe from being laughed at too. Maybe kind people were just scared, she thought. Her mother noticed Mira's quietness at dinner. But Mira didn't know how to explain her confused feelings. She stared out the window at the flowing river.
From her upstairs window on a stormy afternoon, Mira watches torrential rain hammer the overflowing river while grey clouds churn overhead. Outside, her father heaves sandbags along the drenched street as scattered lanterns flicker in the wind.
The next afternoon, dark clouds rolled over the village. Wind rattled windows and bent palm trees. Rain poured down like buckets from the sky. Mira watched from her window as the river began rising. Water rushed faster and faster, climbing up the banks. By evening, the river overflowed into the streets. Neighbors shouted warnings and helped each other move to higher ground. Mira's father carried sandbags while her mother gathered emergency supplies. The peaceful river had become a roaring force.
In hazy morning light, ankle-deep water fills the village street where a grizzled neighbor in a small boat hands out supplies. Mira stands on a balcony railing, amazed, while teenagers wade past carrying food to elderly neighbors.
Water filled the lower streets by morning. Everyone worked together to stay safe. Mr. Garcia, who usually argued with neighbors, now shared his boat. Mrs. Chen, who kept to herself, cooked soup for families without power. Teenagers carried supplies to elderly neighbors who couldn't walk through water. Mira watched in amazement. The same people who ignored each other now helped everyone. Children who teased each other now played together while waiting for rescue. Something had changed when trouble came.
At sunset on the repaired wooden bridge, Elias sits serenely beside Mira, pointing his weathered hand toward the rushing river glowing amber. Soft light outlines his lined face and fishing pole as Mira listens, hands resting on the damp railing.
An old fisherman named Elias sat on the bridge where Mira usually sat. His weathered face smiled kindly when she approached. He pointed at the rushing water below. "Every person chooses between shadow and light," Elias said gently. "Shadows grow when we forget goodness. But God's love flows like this river—it never dries up." Mira listened carefully. "When we turn toward God's light, we find shelter and strength," he continued. "Kindness isn't weakness. It's courage." His words planted seeds in Mira's heart.
Inside the sunlit classroom, Tomas stands at the front clutching worn notebooks, his voice trembling as he explains his family's struggles. Mira lowers her gaze at a wooden desk, colorful posters and an open backpack surrounding the silent students.
After the storm passed, school reopened. Miss Lopez asked students to share their experiences. Tomas raised his hand nervously. He explained how his family moved after his father lost his job. They had little money for new clothes or shoes. His voice cracked when he mentioned missing his old friends. The classroom fell silent. Mira felt her cheeks grow warm with shame. She remembered laughing along with others. Now she understood Tomas felt lonely and afraid, just like she feared feeling.
Under bright noon skies, Tomas sits beneath a leafy tree reading quietly, his book resting on scratched picnic table planks. A short distance away, Mira stands frozen between him and a cluster of whispering classmates near the metal swings.
At recess, the usual group gathered near the swings. They started whispering and pointing at Tomas again. He sat alone reading a book. Mira remembered Elias's words about shadow and light. Her heart pounded loudly. She could follow the crowd like before, staying safe. Or she could choose differently. Taking a deep breath, Mira thought about the villagers helping each other during the storm. They chose light when darkness came. Now it was her turn to choose. Fear and courage battled inside her.
On the grassy playground at afternoon recess, Mira steps toward Tomas with a hopeful smile, lightly touching his sleeve beside the swings. Behind them, two other girls watch curiously, sunlight filtering through clouds onto a worn red rubber ball.
Mira walked straight toward Tomas. Her legs felt wobbly but she kept going. "Hi, Tomas," she said with a smile. "Want to play tag with me?" Tomas looked up, surprised and hopeful. Behind her, the other children stopped whispering. "That looks like a good book," Mira added. "Maybe you can tell me about it later?" Tomas smiled, his first real smile at the new school. Two other girls noticed Mira's kindness. Slowly, they walked over too. "Can we play?" they asked.
In the buzzing cafeteria, Tomas performs a card trick at a round table, fanning worn cards while Mira laughs. Nearby, two other girls lean forward amazed as afternoon light reflects off metal chairs.
Something wonderful began happening. Where teasing once lived, conversations now grew. Children asked Tomas about his favorite games and stories. He taught them card tricks his grandfather showed him. During lunch, Tomas sat with Mira and her new group of friends. Laughter replaced mean whispers. Even Carlos, who often pushed others, apologized and joined their soccer game. Miss Lopez noticed the change and smiled warmly. Kindness was spreading just like unkindness had before. But this felt so much better.
On the quiet bridge at golden sunset, Mira rests her arms on the railing, smiling at the sparkling river below. Warm light bathes the village rooftops and drifting clouds, echoing her peaceful expression.
Mira returned to her favorite bridge after school. The river flowed peacefully again, sparkling in the sunlight. She understood now what Elias meant. God's love flows constantly, offering light to everyone who reaches for it. Choosing kindness wasn't about being unafraid. It was about choosing light even when darkness seemed easier. Mira smiled, watching villagers greet each other warmly below. One small choice changed everything. Like the river, kindness could flow forever if people kept choosing it. Her heart felt light and free.
--:--
--:--
0/12