Grace and the Jumble Jive

Grace and the Jumble Jive

by

Patches the Story Dog

Patches the Story Dog

A story about Anger

for your Kindergartener

Kindergartener Anger

Make this story your own!

Remix Story
Baby Grace, a joyful baby girl, twirling with her arms out wide on a sun-dappled wide wooden floor, her bare feet mid-spin, with a huge smile on her face. In the background, big sunny windows letting in golden light, with a cheerful backyard garden of swaying flowers and fluttering butterflies visible outside.

Grace loved to dance. Every single day, she wiggled and twirled in her bright, cozy living room. The sun came through the big windows and made warm, golden spots on the wide wooden floor. Grace liked to dance right in those sunny spots.

A small, round blue speaker sitting on a low wooden shelf, with colorful musical notes seeming to float out from it into the air. In the background, colorful pillows scattered around a soft rug on a wide wooden floor.

Spin, spin, spin! Tap, tap, tap! Grace danced to her favorite music that played from a little blue speaker on the shelf. She shook her hips. She clapped her hands. She bounced on the soft, colorful rug like it was a fluffy cloud.

Grace sitting on the wide wooden floor beside a tall tower made of red and yellow wooden blocks, her eyes wide with pride as she places one more block on top. In the background, colorful pillows scattered on a soft rug near big sunny windows.

When Grace was not dancing, she liked to build. She stacked her red and yellow blocks up, up, up into a tall, tall tower. "Look how tall!" Grace said. She was so proud. The tower was almost as tall as she was!

Red and yellow wooden blocks tumbling and scattering across a wide wooden floor, some mid-air, with a small round blue speaker on a low wooden shelf showing a dim, unlit face. In the background, big sunny windows with the cheerful backyard garden visible outside.

But then—CRASH! The tall tower of red and yellow blocks tumbled down. Blocks bounced and rolled everywhere across the wide wooden floor. And at that very same moment, the little blue speaker made a funny buzz and went quiet. The music stopped.

Grace standing on the wide wooden floor with her fists clenched at her sides, her cheeks flushed red, her brow furrowed, one foot mid-stomp, with scattered red and yellow blocks around her feet. In the background, the soft rug with colorful pillows and the quiet little blue speaker on its shelf.

Grace felt something big and hot bubbling up inside her tummy. It felt like a fizzy pot about to boil over. Her face got warm. Her hands squeezed into tight little fists. "I am SO mad!" Grace said. She stomped one foot hard on the floor. STOMP!

Grace mid-stomp with tears welling in her eyes, her mouth open in a frustrated cry, her whole body tense, standing among the scattered red and yellow wooden blocks on the wide wooden floor. In the background, the warm golden light from big sunny windows falling softly across the room.

Grace stomped again. STOMP! STOMP! Her eyes got watery and her lip wobbled. She wanted to yell. She wanted to throw the blocks. The angry feeling was so big it made her whole body shake. Grace did not like this feeling at all.

Grace standing with tear-streaked cheeks and clenched fists, looking toward a pair of open, welcoming arms reaching out from the edge of the page, at floor level on the soft colorful rug. In the background, colorful pillows on the soft rug and the wide wooden floor with scattered red and yellow blocks.

Then Mama came in. She sat right down on the soft rug and opened her arms wide. "I can see you are very angry," Mama said in a gentle voice. "That is okay. Anger is a feeling that everyone gets sometimes—even mamas and papas. You don't have to push it away."

Grace with her eyes gently closed, her cheeks puffing out slightly as she blows a slow breath outward, her little hands resting on her tummy, standing on the soft colorful rug. In the background, big sunny windows showing the cheerful backyard garden with swaying flowers and fluttering butterflies.

"But my tummy feels all bubbly and hot!" Grace said. Mama nodded. "Let's try something together. Breathe in slow like you are smelling a flower." Grace breathed in through her nose. "Now breathe out slow like you are blowing a bubble." Grace blew out soft and long. They did it three times.

Grace sitting cross-legged on the soft colorful rug, her hands open in her lap, talking with her mouth slightly open and a thoughtful expression on her face, the scattered red and yellow blocks visible nearby. In the background, the wide wooden floor and colorful pillows in warm golden sunlight from the big windows.

The bubbly feeling got a little smaller. "Now, can you tell me what made you angry?" Mama asked. Grace thought about it. "My tower fell down AND my music stopped. Both at the same time! That is why I feel so mad." Saying it out loud made the anger feel less like a monster and more like a cloud floating by.

Grace's bare feet on the wide wooden floor, one foot slightly lifted as if about to tap, with a few red and yellow wooden blocks nearby on the floor. In the background, the edge of the soft colorful rug and warm golden light streaming across the floor.

"You figured it out!" Mama said. "When we know why we feel angry, it helps the feeling get softer. And you can always ask for help when feelings get too big." Grace nodded. She still felt a little stomp-y in her feet. "My feet still want to stomp," she said.

Grace mid-leap on the wide wooden floor, one arm up high and one foot kicking out, her face breaking into a huge, free smile, her whole body full of joyful energy. In the background, big sunny windows with golden light pouring in and the cheerful backyard garden of swaying flowers and butterflies outside.

Mama smiled. "Then let your feet stomp—but make it a dance!" Grace stomped one foot. Then the other. Stomp, stomp, tap! Stomp, stomp, spin! She turned her angry stomps into a brand-new dance. She called it the Feelings Dance. It was wild and loud and wonderful.

Grace standing still by the big sunny windows, one small hand pressed gently against the glass, gazing out at the cheerful backyard garden where colorful butterflies flutter among swaying flowers, a peaceful, quiet expression on her face. In the background, the bright cozy living room with the soft colorful rug, colorful pillows, and warm golden light on the wide wooden floor.

When the dance was done, Grace felt lighter. The anger was not all gone—and that was okay. Feelings come and feelings go, like butterflies that visit the garden and then fly away. Grace knew that the next time a big feeling came, she could breathe, she could talk about it, and she could always, always dance.

Browse More Stories

from the Fable Public Library

Kindergartener Anger