A hand, so small, grips mine.
She looks around,
bewildered.
Not the familiar nursery
or the comfort of home.
A class of new faces.
Happy, sad, excited, terrified.
I stand up to go.
A wobbly bottom lip,
eyes brimming, ready to spill.
Ushered out of the room.
My own bottom lip now wobbling.
The triumphant return home
Full of smiles and stories.
I got this, Mummy!
© wordsfromanotebook / suzie pearson