Bolda and Brutus Explore Two Worlds

Bolda and Brutus Explore Two Worlds

by

Patches the Story Dog

Patches the Story Dog

A story about Divorce

for your Preschooler

Preschooler Divorce Classic Characters

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Bolda the Bright, an adventurous young Viking girl in brave boots and a warm fur cape, stands with her arms wide open, smiling at the world around her. In the background, a cozy Viking village nestled between two gentle, snow-dusted hills with warm glowing cottages on top.

Bolda the Bright lived in a cozy Viking village between two soft, snowy hills. She had brave boots, a warm fur cape, and a heart full of wonder. She loved to explore every rock and every path.

Brutus, a fun-loving purple warthog with a big grin and small curly tusks, strikes a silly pose with one hoof raised as if telling a joke. In the background, mossy stones and friendly whispering wildflowers line a winding path.

Her best friend was a purple warthog named Brutus. Brutus loved jokes. "Why did the snowflake giggle?" he asked. "Because the wind tickled it!" Bolda always laughed with Brutus.

Two gentle, snow-dusted hills side by side — one topped with a warm, glowing cottage with a red door, the other topped with a warm, glowing cottage with a blue door, connected by a winding path lined with friendly wildflowers and soft, mossy stones. In the background, a pale winter sky glows softly pink and blue above the cozy Viking village.

One day, something big changed. Bolda's family did not live in one home anymore. Now her Papa lived in the cottage with the red door on one hill. And her Mama lived in the cottage with the blue door on the other hill.

Bolda the Bright, a young Viking girl in brave boots and a warm fur cape, sits hunched on a soft, mossy stone, hugging her knees, her face showing a mix of sadness and confusion. In the background, the winding path stretches between the two snow-dusted hills with the red-door cottage and blue-door cottage glowing on top.

Bolda sat on a mossy stone between the two hills. Her tummy felt twisty. Her eyes felt hot. "Brutus," she said quietly, "everything feels mixed up inside me. I feel sad. And I feel a little mad. And I do not know why."

Brutus, a fun-loving purple warthog with small curly tusks, sits gently beside Bolda the Bright on a soft, mossy stone, leaning close with a kind, listening expression. In the background, friendly whispering wildflowers sway softly along the winding path.

Brutus sat right next to her. He did not tell a joke this time. He just sat close. "That sounds like a lot of big feelings," he said softly. "Can you tell me more?" Bolda took a deep breath. "I miss when we were all in one house."

Bolda the Bright, a young Viking girl in brave boots and a warm fur cape, looks up with wide, searching eyes and places one hand on her chest, as if feeling her own heart. In the background, the soft glow of the warm cottage with the red door peeks over one snow-dusted hill.

"I feel sad AND happy at the same time," Bolda said. "Is that okay?" Brutus nodded his big purple head. "Oh yes," he said. "You can feel two things at once. Feelings are like that. They can all be real at the very same time."

A winding path lined with friendly, whispering wildflowers in pink, yellow, and white, with soft, mossy stones scattered along the edges, stretching between two gentle hills. In the background, both warm glowing cottages — one with a red door and one with a blue door — sit atop their snow-dusted hills.

They walked together down the winding path. The wildflowers whispered softly around their feet. The mossy stones felt cool and smooth. "Brutus, does love get smaller when it lives in two houses?" Bolda asked.

Brutus, a fun-loving purple warthog with small curly tusks, points one hoof upward toward a big, warm sun that shines golden light down over both hills. In the background, the warm glowing cottage with a red door and the warm glowing cottage with a blue door are both bathed in golden sunlight.

Brutus stopped and smiled. "Does the sun get smaller when it shines on two hills?" he asked. Bolda looked up. The sun was big and warm. It lit up both cottages at once. "No," she said slowly. "It shines on both." "Love is like that too," said Brutus.

Bolda the Bright, a young Viking girl in brave boots and a warm fur cape, stands taller now on the winding path with a small, gentle smile, her fur cape catching a soft breeze. In the background, friendly whispering wildflowers bloom brightly along the mossy stone path.

Bolda felt something loosen in her chest. She took another deep breath. "Talking about it helps," she said. "The heavy feeling got a little lighter." Brutus grinned. "Talking is brave. And you, Bolda, are the bravest Viking I know."

A tiny pink wildflower with a sweet little face, wiggling its petals and giggling, growing right in the middle of the winding path between two soft, mossy stones. In the background, the winding flower-lined path stretches gently toward the snow-dusted hills.

Just then — "Tee-hee-hee!" A tiny sound came from the path. Bolda looked down. One little wildflower was giggling! It wiggled its pink petals and laughed and laughed. "Did that flower just LAUGH?" Bolda gasped. Brutus's eyes went wide. "I think it did!"

Brutus, a fun-loving purple warthog with small curly tusks, has tumbled onto his back on the winding path, legs in the air, laughing with his mouth wide open near the tiny giggling pink wildflower. In the background, the cozy Viking village glows warmly between the two gentle, snow-dusted hills.

Bolda laughed too. She laughed so hard her brave boots stomped. Brutus snorted and giggled until he fell over. The giggling wildflower kept laughing with them. "See?" said Brutus, catching his breath. "New, wonderful things can grow in places you never expected."

Bolda the Bright, a young Viking girl in brave boots and a warm fur cape, walks forward down the winding path with a tiny pink giggling wildflower tucked behind her ear, her face bright with quiet hope. In the background, the winding path stretches ahead between the two snow-dusted hills, each topped with a warm, glowing cottage — one with a red door and one with a blue door.

Bolda picked up the little giggling flower and tucked it behind her ear. She looked up one hill at the red door, then up the other hill at the blue door. Two homes. Two hills. And one big, big love that shone on both. "Come on, Brutus," she said. "We have a whole path full of adventures ahead."

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