Lala sat quietly under the big mango tree, her small hands wrapped tightly around her favorite stuffed bear. Her round eyes, usually full of light and curiosity, were clouded with sadness. The other children were playing nearby, but she didn’t join them. How could she? Her heart felt too heavy.
For the past few weeks, Lala had been living in the countryside with Kien, her kind and playful older cousin. Kien had come to stay at her grandmother’s house during his university break, and from the moment he arrived, he and Lala became inseparable. They explored the rice fields together, picked guavas from the trees, built sandcastles by the riverbank, and giggled late into the night telling silly stories.
Lala loved Kien more than she could explain. He wasn’t just a cousin—he was her best friend, her hero, her comfort. He knew exactly how to cheer her up when she was sad and how to make boring days full of adventure.
But today, something was different. Kien had left early in the morning. Lala had woken up to find his mattress rolled up and his bag gone. No note, no goodbye, not even a hug.
“Maybe he went to the market,” she thought at first. But as the sun climbed higher in the sky, and no Kien appeared, her heart began to twist. She asked her grandmother nervously, “Where’s Kien?”
Her grandmother looked up from peeling jackfruit and replied gently, “He had to go back to the city, sweetie. His classes are starting again.”
Lala’s mouth fell open. “He left? Without saying goodbye?”
“Yes, he didn’t want to wake you. He said it would be too hard for both of you.”
Those words were like a stone dropped into her little heart. He left without saying goodbye.
All day, her mind swirled with questions and hurt. Why didn’t he tell me he was going? Did I do something wrong? Didn’t he love me anymore?
The more she thought about it, the more her disappointment grew. Lala misunderstood the situation completely. She believed Kien had just left because he didn’t care. She felt abandoned.
That afternoon, she refused to eat lunch. She didn’t want to play. She sat quietly, her eyes fixed on the dusty road where Kien had walked away. Every time a motorbike passed, her heart jumped—hoping, just maybe, it was him coming back.
Her grandmother tried to comfort her, bringing her warm milk and soft words. “Lala, Kien didn’t leave because he doesn’t love you. He had responsibilities. He told me he was very sad to leave you behind.”
But Lala couldn’t hear it. Her disappointment had built a wall around her heart.
Later that evening, as the sun began to set, Lala slowly walked to the spot by the river where she and Kien used to sit and watch the fish. She kicked a pebble into the water and whispered, “You left me, Kien. Just like that.”
As she sat down, a soft breeze rustled the grass around her. She felt lonely, like the world had forgotten her.
Suddenly, her grandmother called out from the house. “Lala! Come inside! Kien sent something for you!”
Lala didn’t want to come. She thought it might be a toy or some snack he had forgotten to give her. But something tugged at her—just a little hope.
She walked slowly into the house. Her grandmother handed her a white envelope. “He left this for you with your uncle, but they forgot to give it to you this morning.”
Lala took it with trembling fingers. Her name was written in Kien’s neat handwriting. She sat down and opened the envelope carefully. Inside was a letter and a little drawing of the two of them flying a kite together.
She began to read:
Dear Lala,
I’m so sorry I couldn’t say goodbye in person. You were sleeping so peacefully, and I knew if I woke you up, I wouldn’t be able to leave. I cried a little as I packed my bag.
These weeks with you have been the happiest part of my whole year. You made me laugh, and you reminded me how wonderful it is to be a kid again. I love you very, very much, and I will miss you every single day.
I’ll call you as soon as I reach the city, and I’ll send you pictures from my school. Study hard, be kind to Grandma, and keep playing by the river. When I’m on holiday again, I’ll come back just for you.
Promise.
Love, Kien.
Lala held the letter tightly. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time they weren’t just sad tears—they were mixed with relief and love.
“He didn’t abandon me,” she whispered. “He just had to go.”
At that moment, all the confusion and hurt began to fade. The wall around her heart cracked open. She realized she had misunderstood him, and that made her feel a little guilty—but mostly grateful.
She smiled softly, holding the drawing close to her chest. She would keep it safe, along with the letter, under her pillow.
That night, she asked her grandmother to help her record a voice message on her phone.
“Hi Kien,” she said sweetly. “I’m sorry I thought you didn’t care. I was really sad. But I read your letter. I miss you too. I’ll wait for you to come back. I love you.”
She sent the message and went to sleep with a calm heart.
In the morning, the phone buzzed. It was a video from Kien. In it, he stood in front of his college dorm room, holding up a small sign that read:
“I MISS YOU TOO, LALA!”
He waved and blew a kiss.
Lala giggled with joy. The sadness that had clouded her heart was gone. She now understood that sometimes people leave—not because they want to—but because they have to. And that doesn’t mean they’ve stopped loving you.
She picked up her stuffed bear and whispered, “Next time, I’ll believe in the people I love.”
And with that, she ran outside to play, her laughter echoing once again under the big mango tree.
