A Setback and a Stepping Stone

The afternoon sun, usually a warm caress on the Miller’s backyard, seemed to hold a hint of apprehension. Emily, her bright eyes usually sparkling with mischief, was perched on the swing set, her legs kicking listlessly. Tom, ever the energetic spark, was building a magnificent, albeit lopsided, tower of blocks on the patio. A small frown creased his brow as he surveyed his wobbly creation.

“It’s not fair, Emily!” Tom declared, his voice a little too loud. “You’re supposed to be watching for the bluebirds, not swinging!”

Emily sighed, a sound far too world-weary for her seven years. “But Tom, I saw a whole flock of them fly over just now. They were beautiful. And besides, you were too busy with your tower.”