The Day the Meadow Got Cross

That morning, Nini woke up to find that the rain had soaked her leafy bed. “Humph!” she said, frowning. The day had got off to a bad start.

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Dali spilled blue paint all over his picture. Mingo couldn’t find his glasses, and he bumped right into Dali. “Watch where you’re going!” shouted Dali. “You watch out!” shouted Mingo.

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Zana was grumpy too, because she hadn’t slept well. When Nini asked her to play, Zana snapped, “Leave me alone!” Nini began to cry.

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Bleta heard all the noise and came straight away. She didn’t tell anyone off. “Oh dear, what a stormy morning!” she said. “What are you feeling?” “Angry!” said Mingo. “Angry!” said Dali. “Sad,” said Nini, wiping her tears.

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“Anger is a feeling, just like any other,” said Bleta. “It’s all right to feel it. But you can choose what you do with it. Come on, let’s try something together.”

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“Pretend you’re holding a flower. Smell the flower slowly, through your nose: one, two, three, four. Now pretend you’re holding a candle. Blow out the candle slowly, slowly, through your mouth: one, two, three, four.” Everyone did it together.

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They did it three times. Flower… candle. Flower… candle. Little by little, their hearts grew calm. Mingo turned to Dali. “Sorry I shouted at you.” “I’m sorry too,” said Dali. Then he laughed. “Mingo, your glasses are on your head!”

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Zana went over to Nini. “Sorry, Nini. Shall we play?” Nini smiled. Then she told Bleta, “When I feel cross, I smell the flower and blow out the candle. My anger gets small, and I get to choose what I do.”

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