The Sun’s Warm Hug

Morning came softly over the hills. The sun opened one golden eye, then the other, and stretched its long, warm arms across the sky.

“Hello, world,” said the sun.

The light crept over the garden wall. It slid across the dewy grass. It tiptoed up to our window and peeped inside.

Then it slipped through the gap in the curtains, golden and gentle, and came to rest right here. On you.

Warm.

Can you feel it? Warm on your toes. Warm on your tummy. Warm all the way down, like honey, slow and sweet.

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Out in the garden, a little bumblebee woke up too.

Buzz, buzz, hum. Buzz, buzz, hum.

She flew to a yellow buttercup. Sip. Sweet.

She flew to a purple foxglove. Sip. Sweeter.

She flew to a pink clover flower. Sip… the sweetest of all.

Above her, the old oak tree swayed. A breeze came running through its green leaves, and the leaves said, “Shhh, shhh. Shhh, shhh.”

The bee bobbed along on the breeze. Buzz, hum. Shhh. Buzz, hum. Shhh.

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The day grew soft and slow.

The bumblebee found a flower as soft as a pillow. She folded her little wings and rested. Hum… hum… hush.

The breeze grew tired of running. It slowed to a walk, then to a tiptoe, then to a whisper. Shhh…

The oak tree’s leaves were still.

And the sun’s warm light stayed just here, resting with you.

Warmth. Whisper. Rest.

The whole world is cosy. The whole world is safe.

And all the love in it is waiting for you. All of it. Right here.

Warmth. Whisper. Rest.

The End