It was a bright Saturday morning, and the family’s little house was filled with laughter and movement. Birds chirped outside the window, the smell of breakfast still lingered in the air, and Mom was busy getting ready for the day’s outing. She had planned a short trip to the town’s market, then a visit to the park where Sumi could play with other children.
But there was one problem—Sumi didn’t want to go out.
Sumi, a sweet little girl with big sparkling eyes and a playful spirit, loved staying home. To her, the house was a magical world full of her toys, her books, and her favorite corner where she built little “houses” out of pillows and blankets. Going out meant putting on clothes she didn’t like, leaving behind her dolls, and walking in noisy streets full of people.
“Come on, Sumi!” Mom called cheerfully as she picked up a neatly folded dress. “We’re going to the park today. You’ll meet other kids, play on the swings, and have ice cream.”
But Sumi shook her head firmly, her small pigtails bouncing. “No, Mommy. I don’t want to go.”
Mom knelt down and smiled patiently. “Why not, my love? It’ll be fun.”
Sumi crossed her little arms and pouted. “I want to stay home. I don’t like going outside. It’s too noisy.”
At that moment, Dad, who was reading the newspaper on the couch, looked up and chuckled softly. He knew this side of his daughter very well. Sumi was energetic and curious at home, but when it came to stepping out, she often became shy and hesitant.
Mom tried again. “Sumi, sweetie, we already talked about this. We’re going to the park together. Daddy and I want you to have fun, meet new friends, and enjoy the sunshine.”
But before Mom could finish persuading her, Sumi’s eyes filled with determination. She turned away from Mom, ran across the room with her tiny feet pattering on the wooden floor, and leapt straight into her dad’s arms.
“Daddy!” she cried, hugging him tightly. “I don’t want to go out. Please don’t make me!”
Dad laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her small body. She clung to him like a little koala, burying her face in his chest. He could feel her tiny heartbeat racing, her arms holding onto him as though he was her safe island.
Mom stood there, a little exasperated but also amused. “You see what she’s doing? She thinks running to you will save her from everything.”
Dad stroked Sumi’s hair gently. “Well,” he said softly, “maybe she just needs a little extra comfort before going out.”
Sumi tilted her head up, her eyes pleading. “Daddy, I don’t want to. Can we stay home? Just you, me, and my toys? We can read stories. Please?”
Her little voice tugged at Dad’s heart. He knew that for Sumi, the world outside felt overwhelming sometimes. But he also knew that she couldn’t hide from it forever. It was important for her to step out, experience life, and learn.
“Hmm,” Dad said thoughtfully, pretending to think hard. “You know, Sumi, Daddy also likes staying home sometimes. But do you know what’s even more fun? Going outside, having an adventure, and then coming back home to rest. If we never leave, we don’t have stories to tell.”
Sumi frowned slightly, still hugging him. “But Daddy… what if I don’t like it?”
Dad kissed the top of her head. “If you don’t like it, then Daddy will carry you. You don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be right there with you.”
Her eyes softened, but she still held him tightly. “Promise?”
“Promise,” Dad said, holding out his pinky.
Sumi linked her tiny finger with his, and for a moment, she felt reassured.
But when Mom held up the little dress again, Sumi’s reluctance returned. “Noooo,” she whined, pressing her face against Dad’s shirt. “I don’t want to wear it. I don’t want to go.”
Dad chuckled. “How about this? You choose what you want to wear today. Not Mommy. You pick your favorite.”
That changed everything. Sumi immediately perked up, slid down from Dad’s lap, and ran to her drawer. She pulled out a bright yellow T-shirt with a cartoon bunny and a pair of soft leggings. Holding them up proudly, she announced, “This one!”
Mom sighed but smiled. “Alright, little one. You win. Wear what you like. But you’re still coming with us.”
Sumi hesitated again, her eyes darting to Dad as if asking for help. He crouched down, opened his arms, and she ran back into his hug. “Daddy, can I sit with you in the car?”
“Of course,” Dad said warmly. “You’ll sit right next to me.”
After a little more convincing, giggles, and hugs, Sumi finally agreed to get dressed. With Dad helping her put on her bunny T-shirt, she felt calmer. He even tied her shoelaces while whispering, “We’re a team, Sumi. If you get scared, just hold my hand.”
The moment they stepped outside, Sumi clung to Dad’s leg, her little fingers gripping tightly. The street felt loud and busy, but Dad scooped her up in his arms. “See? You’re safe,” he said.
By the time they reached the park, the air was filled with laughter of children, the sound of swings creaking, and the smell of popcorn from a nearby vendor. Sumi’s eyes widened, still uncertain. She hugged Dad’s neck, refusing to let go.
“Do you want to try the swing with me?” Dad asked.
Sumi shook her head. “No, Daddy. Not yet.”
So Dad sat with her on a bench, pointing out little things—the red balloon floating in the air, the ducks waddling near the pond, and the children chasing each other happily. Slowly, Sumi’s grip loosened.
A little girl nearby smiled at her and offered a toy ball. Sumi looked at her dad, unsure. Dad nodded gently. “It’s okay, Sumi. You can play. I’m right here.”
With hesitation, Sumi slid down from his lap and reached out for the ball. The little girl giggled, and soon they began rolling it back and forth. Within minutes, Sumi was laughing too, her shyness melting away.
Dad watched with a proud smile, knowing that his daughter had taken another small but important step.
By the time they returned home later that afternoon, Sumi was full of excitement, telling Dad all about the ducks, the swings, and her new friend. Mom smiled knowingly as she listened, happy that the trip was worth it.
That night, as Dad tucked her into bed, Sumi hugged him tightly once more. “Daddy,” she whispered, “I was scared at first. But then it was fun.”
Dad kissed her forehead. “That’s how adventures work, my little bunny. Sometimes you’re scared before they start, but once you try, you find joy waiting for you.”
Sumi smiled sleepily. “Next time, can I hold your hand again?”
“Always,” Dad replied.
And with that promise, Sumi drifted into dreams, still hugging the safest place she knew—her dad.
