Ember Flare and the Lost Spark
by
Patches the Story Dog
A story about Big feelings
for your 2nd Grader
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Ember Flare was a small dragon with shimmery orange scales and big golden eyes that sparkled with wonder. She lived in a cozy village nestled between two misty mountains, where colorful caves glowed warmly with lantern light and winding stone paths connected families of dragons who lived side by side. Every morning, Ember would bound down the stone path to the giant old oak tree at the heart of the village, where young dragons gathered to play and practice flying.
Ember's favorite thing in the whole world was playing with her best friend. The two of them would chase each other around the giant old oak tree, blow tiny smoke rings into the sky, and practice gliding from the lowest branches. "Race you to the top!" Ember would shout, and her best friend would zoom past her every single time. They laughed so hard that little sparks flew from their noses.
One cool morning, Ember skipped to the giant old oak tree and found her best friend sitting very still on a mossy rock. Her friend's wings drooped low, and her eyes looked at the ground. "What's wrong?" Ember asked, tilting her head. Her best friend took a deep breath and said quietly, "My family is moving to a mountain far, far away. We leave in three days." Ember's golden eyes went wide. Her chest felt tight, like something heavy had landed right on top of her heart.
That night, Ember lay curled up in her warm cave, but she could not sleep. Her mind kept thinking the same thought over and over: She's leaving. She's really leaving. A hot, bubbling feeling rose up inside her belly. It felt like a pot of soup boiling too fast on a fire. Before she knew it—WHOOSH!—a burst of flame shot right out of her mouth and scorched a dark black mark on her bedroom wall. Ember gasped and covered her mouth with both claws.
The next day was worse. At breakfast, Ember knocked over her cup of berry juice, and the angry, boiling feeling came rushing back. WHOOSH! Fire burst from her mouth and singed the tablecloth. At the village square, a little dragon bumped into her by accident, and—WHOOSH!—she scorched a patch of flowers by the stone path. "I didn't mean to!" Ember cried, tears sliding down her scaly cheeks. The feelings inside her were so big and so hot that she couldn't hold them in.
Ember ran all the way home and buried her face in her pillow. Her mom, a tall dragon with deep crimson scales and kind amber eyes, sat down gently beside her. "Sweetheart," her mom said in a soft, warm voice, "I saw the scorch marks around the village. Can you tell me what's happening inside?" Ember sniffled. "I don't know," she whispered. "Everything feels too big. It's like a storm in my belly, and I can't make it stop."
Her mom wrapped a warm wing around Ember and pulled her close. "Sometimes when something sad or scary happens, our feelings get so big that our bodies don't know what to do," her mom said gently. "Your fire is connected to your feelings, Ember. When you're overwhelmed—when too many feelings come at once—your flames burst out." Ember looked up with watery eyes. "But I don't want to burn things. I don't want to feel this way." Her mom nodded slowly. "I know, little one. Let's try something together."
"First," her mom said, "let's name what you're feeling. When you give a feeling a name, it gets a little smaller—like putting a lid on a pot so the soup doesn't boil over." Ember thought hard. "I feel... sad," she said. "Because I'll miss her." Then she paused. "And I feel mad. It's not fair that she has to go!" Her mom smiled gently. "What else?" Ember's lip trembled. "I feel scared. What if I never have a friend like her again?" Saying the words out loud made Ember's chest feel a tiny bit lighter, like she had set down one of the heavy rocks she'd been carrying.
"Good," her mom whispered. "Now let's cool your flames. Breathe in slowly through your nose—like you're smelling a flower. Then breathe out through your mouth—long and slow, like you're blowing on hot soup to cool it down." Ember tried. She breathed in... one, two, three. She breathed out... one, two, three, four, five. The boiling feeling in her belly started to simmer. She did it again. And again. Each time, the storm inside her got a little quieter and her flames stayed right where they belonged.
On the last day before her best friend moved away, Ember walked to the giant old oak tree. The boiling feeling started to rise again, bubbling hot in her belly. But this time, Ember stopped walking. She closed her eyes. "I feel sad," she whispered to herself. "I feel really, really sad. And that's okay." She breathed in slowly through her nose and out through her mouth, long and gentle. The fire stayed inside, calm and warm instead of wild. It wasn't easy. It still hurt. But Ember didn't burn a single thing.
Ember and her best friend sat under the giant old oak tree one last time. They blew wobbly smoke rings and watched them float up through the branches. "I'm going to miss you so much," Ember said, her voice shaky but steady. Her best friend leaned against her. "Me too. But maybe we can send smoke signals across the mountains." Ember laughed—a real laugh—and a few happy sparks popped from her nose. They sat together until the lanterns in the village began to glow, and the sky turned the color of ripe peaches.
The next morning, Ember stood on the stone path and watched a small shape fly up and over the far mountain until it disappeared into the mist. Her eyes stung, and the heavy feeling pressed against her heart again. She breathed in slowly—one, two, three. She breathed out—one, two, three, four, five. Then she walked home and found her mom waiting at the door. "The sad feeling came back," Ember said quietly. Her mom knelt down and held her close. "It will come and go for a while, little one. And every time it does, I'll be right here." Ember pressed her face against her mom's warm scales and thought that maybe—just maybe—she could carry this feeling, as long as she didn't have to carry it alone.