In the middle of the night, I noticed the light in my kids’ room flicked on. Julia, my 3-year-old, had just figured out how to use the switch, so I wasn’t surprised. I walked in, and she immediately screamed, “MAMA! THERE’S A MONSTER UNDER MY BED!” She was trembling, and her eyes were filled with fear.
I gently hugged her and reassured her that there were no monsters in our home. Her big brother was sleeping just across the room, and I was right there to keep her safe. She finally calmed down, holding her stuffed bunny tightly as I tucked her in again. I kissed her forehead and stayed for a while until her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep.
But nearly an hour later, I heard quiet sobs coming from the same room. As I walked closer, I noticed Julia’s trembling voice whisper, “Mama… it’s still there.” This time, I knelt down beside her bed with my heart pounding, half expecting to see a forgotten toy or maybe even a shadow cast oddly by the nightlight. As I slowly lifted the blanket hanging from the mattress, I froze—not from fear, but surprise.
There, curled under the bed, was our new kitten, Luna, who had silently wandered into the room earlier that evening. Her big glowing eyes probably startled Julia in the dim light, making her believe it was something frightening. I gently picked Luna up and showed her to Julia. Instantly, her fear melted into giggles. She hugged the kitten tightly and whispered, “So the monster was fluffy?” From that night on, Julia no longer feared the shadows under her bed. Instead, she often peeked under it to see if her “little monster” was napping there again. And I realized something beautiful—sometimes, what scares us most just needs a little light and love to be understood.