Today at school, I drew something in Martin’s notebook. Just a silly face – with a big nose and bunny teeth. Lily laughed. I laughed. Even Martin laughed… but then he frowned.
“It’s not funny,” he said.
Then he tore the page out and ripped it up.
Later, when I got home, I didn’t feel like eating. I didn’t want to watch TV. I didn’t even want to play with my new stickers. I just lay on my bed thinking.
“What’s wrong, Sofia?” Mom asked.
“Nothing…” I said. But it wasn’t nothing. It was… a feeling that crawled into my belly like a kitten trying to get comfortable and never quite settling.
Or like a pebble in your shoe – not that big, but pokes you with every step.
Or like I ate the chocolate I was saving for later… and now it’s gone.
“Mom, have you ever done something silly but honest, and then felt guilty?”
Mom smiled gently.
“Every day, Sofia. But do you know what helps?”
“What?”
“Saying ‘I’m sorry.’ It’s not a magic word, but it often works wonders.”
The next day, I brought Martin a new notebook page. I drew him a rocket, because he loves space. And I wrote underneath: “I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just thought it was funny.“
He just nodded. But later, during the lunchbreak, he showed me his new sticker collection – space-themed! There was even one with an alien that looked like the silly face I drew.
“You can have it,” he said. “It kind of looks like yours.”
Maybe guilt doesn’t just vanish. But when you share it and say you’re sorry, it gets lighter. Like taking off your shoe and tossing out the pebble. It might still feel a little weird, but at least you can walk.
Then I remembered – adults say “Don’t worry about silly things.”
But maybe silly things are what weighs us down the most.
“For real?!” I whispered.
And I promised myself I won’t wait for guilt to grow as big as a watermelon before I speak up.