Ala was never a fan of bitter tastes or strange smells, especially when it came to medicine. But when she caught a cold and her throat began to feel sore, her mother knew exactly what to do—bring out the syrup bottle. It was pink, thick, and had a scent that made Ala wrinkle her nose every time. Normally, she would throw a mini tantrum, run around the house, or try to hide behind the couch to avoid taking it. But this time, something changed.
Ala had been watching cartoons the night before, and one particular scene stuck with her. In it, the main character, a small kitten named Momo, took her medicine bravely, even though she didn’t like it. “Brave kittens take their medicine to get better fast!” the show had said. The words echoed in Ala’s head as her mother walked in with the spoon and syrup.
“Time for your medicine, sweetheart,” her mom said gently, expecting the usual resistance.
To her surprise, Ala didn’t scream or run. She just looked at the bottle thoughtfully.
“Mom,” she said, “can I try taking it myself?”
Her mother paused, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You want to take it by yourself?”
Ala nodded. “Like Momo. She didn’t cry. She just did it. I want to be like her.”
Smiling with both pride and a bit of disbelief, her mother handed her the small plastic cup and poured a carefully measured amount into it. Ala looked at it, sniffed it cautiously, then winced. It still smelled awful. But she didn’t back down.
“I can do this,” she whispered to herself, holding the cup with both hands.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, with one quick gulp, she swallowed the medicine. Her face twisted in discomfort, and she stuck her tongue out afterward, but she didn’t complain.
Her mother clapped softly. “You did it! I’m so proud of you, Ala.”
“I still don’t like it,” Ala said, scrunching her nose. “But I did it!”
From that day on, Ala decided she would try different ways to make taking medicine easier. If she had to do it, she wanted to be clever about it. The next day, when it was time for another dose, she was ready.
She brought a small spoonful of honey with her and asked her mom, “Can I take honey after the medicine? To make the taste go away?”
Her mother laughed. “That’s actually a smart idea. Yes, you can.”
So Ala took the medicine first, then a spoonful of sweet honey. It worked! The taste disappeared almost instantly.
On another day, she tried taking a sip of orange juice right after the syrup. Then she thought of holding her nose when she drank the medicine so she wouldn’t smell it. That helped too. Each day, she experimented with a new trick—eating a gummy bear afterward, counting down from ten to one before drinking, or pretending she was a superhero needing a power potion.
She even made a little chart and stuck it on the wall with stickers. Every time she took her medicine without fuss, she gave herself a star. Her parents were amazed at how determined she had become.
One evening, her dad came home from work and saw the sticker chart.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s my bravery chart,” Ala explained. “I get a star every time I take my medicine by myself.”
Her dad bent down and gave her a big hug. “You’re growing up, little one. I’m proud of you.”
“But Dad,” she said seriously, “I still think the syrup tastes like old flowers.”
He laughed. “I’m pretty sure most people agree with you.”
As the days passed, Ala’s cold got better. Her cough faded, her throat stopped hurting, and her energy returned. But more than anything, Ala felt proud of herself. She had faced something she didn’t like, something that scared her a little, and figured out how to handle it on her own.
At preschool, when her friend Linh mentioned she had to take some medicine too and was scared, Ala took her hand and said, “You can do it. Want to know my tricks?”
Linh nodded.
“Try honey after, or orange juice. Or just think of it like you’re a brave princess taking a magic potion.”
From that moment, Ala became the “Medicine Coach” among her friends. Whenever someone felt sick and had to take icky medicine, they would ask Ala for tips. She even made a tiny guidebook with crayon drawings—”Ala’s Medicine Tricks”—and gave copies to her friends.
One page said, “If it smells bad, pinch your nose.”
Another said, “If it tastes bad, chase it with something sweet!”
But the last page had the most important rule of all: “Be brave. Taking medicine helps you feel better faster!”
One afternoon, her teacher called her mom for a quick chat.
“Did you know Ala has been helping her classmates take their medicine?” she asked with a chuckle.
Her mother smiled. “Yes, she’s been very creative lately.”
“She even led a little group where they all cheered each other on. One of the kids was crying, but Ala helped her calm down and try.”
That night, when her mom tucked her in, Ala asked, “Mom, can I be a doctor when I grow up?”
“You absolutely can,” her mother said. “You already have the heart for it.”
Ala smiled and closed her eyes. She dreamt of wearing a white coat, carrying a little doctor’s bag, and helping children all over the world not be afraid of medicine. Maybe she would even invent one that tasted like strawberries and bubblegum.
Taking medicine had once been scary and awful. But now, Ala saw it as a challenge she had conquered—a way to prove to herself that she could do hard things, especially when she stayed calm, smart, and brave.
And that’s how Ala, the little girl who once cried at the sight of syrup, became the hero of her own story—one spoonful at a time.
