By Bill Conley
Moral of the Story:
Accidents happen to everyone, big or small, young or old.
Spilling something or dropping a plate doesn’t make you bad.
It’s how you respond that matters—take a breath and help clean up.
You don’t need to cry or be scared—mistakes are part of growing up.
In a cozy cottage nestled beneath
the roots of a tall elm tree lived a small mouse named Milo.
Milo was cheerful and polite, with
twitchy whiskers and bright eyes full of curiosity. He loved helping his mom
around the house—especially in the kitchen, where the smell of cinnamon and
berries often floated through the air.
Every Saturday morning was muffin
day. Milo would stand on a little stool beside his mother, mixing batter,
licking spoons, and watching the golden tops rise in the oven.
One Saturday, as the muffins baked
and filled the cottage with their sweet smell, Mama Mouse asked Milo to set the
table for breakfast.
Milo nodded excitedly. He carried
over the plates and spoons, one by one. Then, balancing carefully on his toes,
he picked up a little bowl of water to bring to the table.
But just as he turned the corner—slip!
His foot caught the edge of the rug.
Splash!
The bowl flew from his tiny paws,
water spraying across the floor and splattering onto his legs. The bowl landed
with a soft clatter and rolled to a stop under a chair.
Milo froze. His ears drooped. His
tail twitched. His eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry!” he cried, voice
trembling. “I didn’t mean to! I ruined everything!”
Mama Mouse peeked out from behind
the oven door and came over right away. She bent down and wrapped her arms
around Milo.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said softly,
“it’s just water. It’s okay. Accidents happen.”
“But I made a big mess,” Milo
sniffled. “And I wasn’t careful.”
Mama smiled gently and handed him a
towel. “It’s all right. We’ll clean it up together.”
Milo knelt beside her, wiping up the
water. The towel soaked quickly, but with a few more swipes and some giggles
between them, the floor was dry again.
“Next time,” Mama said kindly, “just
walk a little slower. But remember—accidents don’t make you a bad mouse.
They’re just part of learning.”
Milo blinked up at her. “I’m not in
trouble?”
“Of course not,” she said. “What
matters most is that you’re honest and you try to fix what happened.”
Milo smiled—a little one at first,
but it grew quickly. His heart still beat fast, but not with fear anymore. He
felt… braver.
Later that day, after breakfast was
long done and the muffins had been nibbled to crumbs, Milo went back to the
kitchen for a snack.
He reached for a blueberry muffin on
the counter and—plop!
It slipped from his paw and rolled
across the floor, bouncing gently under the table.
For a second, he froze.
But then he remembered Mama’s words.
“Oops,” Milo said aloud. “It’s just
a muffin.”
He took a deep breath, crawled under
the table, picked it up, and brought it to the trash.
“I dropped one, Mama!” he called.
“But I cleaned it up.”
Mama poked her head in and gave him
a proud smile. “Well done, Milo. That’s exactly what I hoped you’d do.”
Milo felt a warm glow in his chest.
From that day on, Milo still had
little oopses. He knocked over a pencil jar once. He spilled a drop or two of
juice. One time, he even tracked mud through the kitchen.
But he didn’t cry or panic anymore.
He didn’t hide or blame the rug or
say it wasn’t his fault.
Instead, he took a deep breath, stayed
calm, and helped clean up.
Sometimes he asked for help.
Sometimes he handled it all on his own.
But always, always, he tried to make
things right.
Because Milo had learned something
big in that little kitchen under the elm tree:
Accidents don’t define you.
Your response does.
Poem:
A little oops, a tiny spill,
Don’t cry or fret—just try to chill.
Mistakes will pass, and that’s okay.
Just help clean up and smile today.
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