The sun peeked through the curtains in Lala’s cozy little room, casting golden light on her favorite stuffed animals, books, and the colorful posters that had been on her walls for years. Lala stretched and yawned, but instead of her usual relaxed morning, today felt different. Today was the day she and her dad would begin packing everything up to move to their new house.
Lala’s father had been planning the move for weeks. Their new home was in a quieter neighborhood, with a big garden and more space for Lala to play. She was excited, but also a little nervous. This old house had been her home since she was small. Every corner held memories: the mark on the doorframe where Dad measured her height each year, the smell of Mom’s cooking that still lingered in the kitchen even though Mom had been away for some time, and the tree outside her window where she used to sit with her friends during summer evenings.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Dad’s cheerful voice called as he opened her door. “Big day today. Ready to pack?”
Lala rubbed her eyes. “I guess so, Dad. But… it feels weird. What if I miss this place too much?”
Dad walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. “It’s normal to feel that way. Moving is like closing one book and opening another. We’ll keep the memories with us, and we’ll make new ones in our new home.”
Lala nodded, trying to smile. She wanted to be brave for her dad.
The First Box
They started with her closet. Lala pulled out her favorite dresses, one by one. The blue one with daisies that she wore for her last birthday. The yellow sundress that Mom had bought her before leaving. And her soft pink pajamas, worn almost every night.
“Should I pack all of them, Dad?” she asked.
“Only the ones that fit,” Dad said with a chuckle. “We can donate the rest.”
Together, they made three piles: clothes to pack, clothes to give away, and clothes too small to wear but too special to let go. For those, Dad suggested a memory box. Lala carefully folded the little yellow sundress and placed it in.
When the first box was taped up, Lala proudly wrote on the top: Lala’s Clothes – Bedroom. It felt official, like she was part of a big mission.
Packing Memories
As the morning went on, they moved to the living room. Books filled the shelves—Dad’s history books, cookbooks, and Lala’s storybooks with colorful pictures.
“Remember this one?” Dad asked, holding up a worn copy of The Little Red Hen.
Lala grinned. “That’s the one you always read when I couldn’t fall asleep!”
They sat down on the floor and read a few pages together, just for old times’ sake, before packing it away. Each item seemed to carry a memory, and sometimes Lala paused just to hold it close for a moment.
When they reached the photo albums, Dad stopped and flipped one open. Pictures of birthdays, picnics, and holidays stared back at them. Lala saw one of her as a toddler, sitting on Dad’s shoulders.
“Can we put these in the car with us instead of the moving truck?” she asked.
“Of course,” Dad said gently. “Some things are too precious to risk losing.”
Lunch Among the Boxes
By noon, the house looked strange. Half-empty shelves, boxes stacked high, and rolls of tape scattered around. They took a break and ate sandwiches on the kitchen floor, surrounded by piles of belongings.
“This feels like camping,” Lala said between bites.
Dad laughed. “A little bit. Except instead of a tent, we’re living with boxes.”
“Do you think I’ll like the new house?” she asked quietly.
“I think you’ll love it,” Dad replied. “You’ll have your own bigger room, and the backyard has a tree perfect for climbing. You’ll see—it’ll feel like home soon.”
Lala felt a flicker of excitement. Maybe moving wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The Afternoon Rush
After lunch, they tackled the kitchen. Pots and pans clanged as Dad wrapped them in newspaper. Lala was in charge of wrapping the fragile glasses and mugs. She worked carefully, rolling each one and placing it gently in the box.
“Handle with care!” she said dramatically as she set each one inside.
“You’re a natural mover,” Dad teased. “Maybe I should hire you out.”
Lala giggled, imagining herself driving a big moving truck.
The afternoon passed quickly. More and more rooms were emptied, and the house began to echo when they spoke. That was when Lala truly realized they were leaving. She walked into her room and sat on the bare bed frame, staring at the walls where her posters had once been. It looked so empty now.
Dad noticed her quietness and came in. “Hey, what’s on your mind?”
“It doesn’t feel like my room anymore,” Lala whispered.
“That’s because it’s ready for the next chapter,” Dad said softly. “Your new room will feel like yours once we set it up together.”
A Special Goodbye
Before dinner, Dad suggested they take a little walk around the house one last time. Room by room, they said goodbye.
“Goodbye, kitchen where we baked cookies,” Lala said.
“Goodbye, living room where we watched movies,” Dad added.
When they reached her bedroom, Lala placed her hand on the wall. “Goodbye, room where I dreamed and grew up.”
Finally, they stood by the front door. Dad gave her hand a squeeze. “This house was good to us. But now it’s time for a new adventure.”
Lala nodded, feeling braver. She whispered, “Goodbye, old house. Thank you.”
Evening Reflections
That night, they slept among the boxes, too tired to do more. Lala curled up in her sleeping bag, her stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm. She thought about the new house—the bigger yard, her new room, and the adventures ahead.
“Dad?” she said softly.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Will we still be together all the time in the new house?”
Dad chuckled. “Of course. Wherever we live, it’s you and me. That’s what makes it home.”
Lala smiled and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of unpacking boxes, decorating her new room, and running barefoot in the big green yard of their new home.
The Promise of Tomorrow
The next morning, the moving truck would arrive. Neighbors would wave goodbye, and Dad and Lala would drive toward their future. But for now, as she slept, the house seemed to hold her gently one last time, like a farewell hug.
Lala had learned something important: a house is just walls and a roof, but a home is built from love, memories, and the people you share it with. And with Dad by her side, she knew their new house would quickly become a new home filled with laughter, stories, and dreams yet to be written.
