The Smallest Courage

Haru has a little dog named Momo — small enough to fit in two hands, together since Momo was tiny. Momo is a scaredy-dog: at any loud sound, Momo hides between Haru's feet, trembling. And every time, Haru scoops Momo up and says, "It's okay. I'm right here."

That night, the sky began to rumble. The truth is, Haru is afraid of thunder too. The lights snapped off — pitch dark. Mother was in the next room, putting the baby to sleep. Under the covers, Haru squeezed both eyes shut. Their legs wouldn't move.

FLASH. KRA-KOOOM…! A huge crash. Haru's heart leapt with a thud. "I'm scared… somebody…" But no voice came out. The "It's okay" Haru always gives to Momo — tonight, Haru was the one who needed to hear it.

Then — from somewhere in the dark, a tiny sound. Pat-pat-pat. It was Momo. Momo, for whom thunder is the most terrifying thing in the whole world, was walking — trembling — toward Haru. Not running away to hide. Toward Haru.

Momo pressed close against Haru's chest. A tiny heart, beating fast-fast-fast. Momo was scared too, after all. Scared — and staying anyway. Staying, for Haru's sake. A tear slipped down Haru's cheek. "Momo… thank you."

Haru gently gathered the trembling Momo up. And then — something strange — the strength flowed back into legs that wouldn't move. "Let's go, Momo. Alone it's scary — but the two of us…" Haru rose quietly, and took one step out into the dark hallway.

Just then, mixed into the thunder, Haru heard it. "Wahh…" The baby was crying, in the next room. And Mother — wait, she wasn't there. She must have gone to check on the blacked-out power. The baby was alone, and scared too. Against Haru's chest, it felt as if little Momo gave a tiny nod. Haru was still afraid. But their legs would move now. What will Haru do?