The warm afternoon sun filtered through the window of the little house where Lala and her family lived. The golden light danced on the floor, and the faint sounds of birds outside created a peaceful atmosphere. But inside, Lala’s heart was not at peace. She had just noticed something about her older brother, Kien. His usually bright and cheerful face looked pale and weary, and his shoulders drooped as if carrying a heavy burden.
Kien had always been strong in Lala’s eyes. He was the one who walked her to school, helped her with homework, and even made her laugh when she felt sad. But now, as she watched him sit quietly by the table with his head resting on his hand, she felt a wave of worry rise in her chest.
“Kien, are you okay?” Lala asked gently, walking closer to him.
Kien forced a smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine, Lala. Just a little tired, that’s all.”
But Lala could see through him. She was small, but her heart was big enough to notice the difference. He wasn’t just “a little tired.” He looked exhausted. His eyes had faint dark circles, and his hands trembled slightly when he tried to pick up his glass of water.
Lala’s heart ached. She wanted to do something, but she wasn’t sure what. She climbed onto the chair beside him and reached out, holding his hand. “You work too much, don’t you? I saw you reading late last night. And you woke up early this morning.”
Kien chuckled softly, rubbing her head. “Don’t worry about me, little one. I just have a lot to do for school and work. But I can handle it.”
Lala’s brows furrowed. She didn’t like it when adults—or even Kien—said those words. Don’t worry about me. Because it meant they were hiding something.
She thought about all the times Kien had taken care of her when she was sick. He would stay by her side, bring her warm soup, and tell her stories until she fell asleep. Now it was her turn to take care of him.
That evening, when Mom called them for dinner, Lala made up her mind. She would help Kien rest, no matter what.
During dinner, she watched him carefully. He barely ate his rice, just pushing it around his plate. Mom noticed too. “Kien, are you feeling unwell?”
Kien shook his head. “No, Mom. I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
Lala wanted to shout, He’s not fine! but she stayed quiet. Instead, she finished her meal quickly and whispered to herself, “I’ll fix this.”
After dinner, while Kien sat at the desk with his books again, Lala sneaked into the kitchen. She climbed onto a stool, grabbed a cup, and poured some warm milk. She remembered how he once told her warm milk helped him relax before bed. With careful steps, she carried it to his desk.
“Kien,” she said softly, setting the cup in front of him. “Please drink this. It will make you feel better.”
Kien looked surprised but then smiled gently. “Thank you, Lala. You didn’t have to.”
“I want to,” she said firmly, folding her little arms. “You always take care of me, so I want to take care of you.”
For a moment, Kien’s tired eyes softened. He took a sip, and the warmth seemed to ease him. Lala felt a spark of hope.
That night, when Kien finally went to bed, Lala tiptoed into his room with her favorite blanket. It was small and pink with little stars on it. She carefully laid it over him even though he already had a blanket.
She whispered, “Sleep well, Kien. Tomorrow you’ll feel better.”
Then she tiptoed back to her room, hugging her stuffed rabbit tightly.
But despite her efforts, Lala couldn’t sleep easily. She kept worrying. What if Kien gets even more tired? What if he gets sick? The thought made her chest heavy. She turned on her side, staring at the moonlight spilling through the window, until sleep finally claimed her.
The next morning, Lala woke up early. She had a plan. While Mom was still cooking breakfast and Kien was still asleep, she rushed to clean the table, fold the laundry, and even try to prepare Kien’s school bag. She wasn’t perfect at it—some socks got mismatched, and she almost spilled water on his notebook—but her determination was fierce.
When Kien came out of his room, rubbing his eyes, he was surprised to see Lala busy at work. “What are you doing, Lala?”
She puffed out her chest. “I’m helping you! You’re tired, so I’ll do the chores today.”
Kien blinked, then laughed softly. “Oh, Lala… you’re amazing. But you don’t have to do all this. It’s my responsibility.”
“But you’re my brother,” Lala said seriously, looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be too tired. If you get sick, I’ll be sad.”
Her words touched him deeply. He crouched down and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Lala. You really care about me, don’t you?”
She nodded into his chest. “Of course! You’re my best brother.”
From that day, something changed. Kien realized he couldn’t keep pushing himself so hard. Seeing how worried Lala was made him understand that his health wasn’t just about him—it affected the whole family, especially his little sister who loved him so much.
He started to rest earlier at night, and he shared some of his worries with Mom instead of carrying everything alone. Lala still liked to help—bringing him water, telling him funny stories, and making sure he smiled at least once a day—but now she wasn’t as scared.
Because she knew Kien was listening to her too.
One evening, as they sat on the porch watching the stars, Kien put his arm around her shoulders. “You know, Lala, you’re the reason I’m feeling better now. You reminded me to slow down. Thank you.”
Lala beamed. “See? I told you I could take care of you too!”
They both laughed, and the night felt warm with their bond. For Lala, it was simple: love meant worrying, caring, and doing little things for each other. And for Kien, it was a powerful reminder that even the smallest person could have the biggest heart.
That night, Lala went to bed without worry. She knew Kien was still her strong, loving brother, but now he was also learning to take care of himself—with her help.
And that thought made her smile as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.
