Blossom Sprout and the Mysterious Mist
by
Thomas
A story about Anxiety
for your 4th Grader.
Blossom Sprout woke up bright and early in her cozy cottage. She gazed out her window at the rolling hills dotted with vibrant flowers, feeling the same cheerful excitement she felt every morning. She couldn’t wait to tend to her new seedlings, which promised to bloom with dazzling petals.
The moment Blossom Sprout stepped outside, she noticed a hazy mist creeping over her village, cloaking the fields in a pale veil. Villagers gathered near the well, whispering that something felt off. Although her heart fluttered, Blossom remained determined to find out more.
One worried villager murmured, “I’ve never seen the sky so gray this early in the day.” Blossom Sprout tried to stay calm as her leafy hands trembled. She admitted quietly, “I feel anxious too, but maybe we can figure this out together.”
Determined not to face the mist alone, Blossom Sprout found a few friends who also felt uneasy. She explained, “We may be worried, but no one has to go through this by themselves.” They decided to take a gentle walk to see if the soft fog would lift.
The old wooden lantern post flickered, casting strange shadows through the swirling fog. Its creaking base hinted at secrets hidden beneath the thick vines wrapping around it. A hush fell over the group as they moved closer.
Blossom Sprout felt her heartbeat quicken, but she recalled how talking about worries could help. She whispered to her friends, “I keep thinking something bad might happen, and it’s making my chest feel tight.” One friend offered a comforting pat on her shoulder, reminding her they were all in this together.
As they continued, Blossom Sprout remembered a tip she learned about slowing her breathing when she felt jittery. She closed her eyes, inhaled slowly, and let her worries float away with a long exhale. Her friends followed her lead, and soon they felt just a little calmer.
Halfway along the winding path of swirling fog, the ancient stone bench appeared like a ghostly shape. Moss covered its edges, and droplets of water glistened in the lantern’s faint glow. The bench seemed to whisper silent stories of travelers who once paused there.