February 20 is World Care Day.
It’s a day when grown-ups stop and think about kids like me — kids whose worlds have changed very quickly, even when we didn’t want them to.
Sometimes people think big, exciting things are what change a child’s world.
But I don’t think that’s quite right.
Because in my experience…
it’s usually the quiet moments that matter most.
When I first arrived somewhere new, my tummy felt all twisty.
My heart beat fast.
My paws didn’t feel very steady.
Even though the house might have looked warm and safe on the outside, inside my head there were lots and lots of big thoughts bumping into each other.
Did I do something wrong?
Will anyone like me?
When will I see my family again?
Some feelings are very hard to explain.
Sometimes it got so loud in me I didn’t even know how to find the words.
I just felt… wobbly.
All the way through.
Maybe you’ve known someone who’s felt like that too.
But here’s something important I’ve learned.
It wasn’t the big things that helped me first.
It wasn’t big surprises.
Or loud, exciting moments.
It was the quiet ones.
Like when a kind grown-up got down low so their eyes were level with mine.
And waited.
Like when someone could see I was nervous… and didn’t hurry me.
Like when my carer stayed soft and calm, even when my big feelings came rushing out all at once.
Those little moments helped my heart feel a bit less shaky.
More than I knew how to say.
One day I remember feeling especially wobbly inside.
Everything felt too big.
Too loud.
Too different.
I didn’t feel very brave at all.
But my carer didn’t tell me to hurry up.
She didn’t tell me to be tough.
She didn’t tell me my feelings were too much.
She just sat down on the floor.
She opened her arms.
And she stayed.
Right there.
Right with me.
Until the big storm inside me slowly… slowly… began to pass.
That’s something kids like me learn over time.
We don’t always need big fixes first.
Sometimes we just need someone kind to stay close.
Someone who notices when we’re having a hard day.
Someone who understands that when a child starts to feel safe, lots of other good things can start to grow too.
There were other quiet moments as well.
Like the first time someone remembered how I like my toast.
Or when a grown-up noticed that school felt a bit tricky for me some days.
Or when someone smiled and waved me over to play — even when I wasn’t sure I was ready yet.
Little things.
Small things.
But to me?
They were very big things.
Because every quiet moment was a little message that said:
You’re safe here.
You matter here.
You don’t have to do this on your own.
And slowly — not all at once — something inside me began to settle.
I still had big feelings sometimes.
I still missed my family.
I still had days where my head felt very full.
But the world didn’t feel quite so scary anymore.
There were kind people nearby.
There were safe arms when I needed them.
There were grown-ups who understood something very important:
Sometimes being brave doesn’t look loud at all.
Sometimes being brave looks like a child taking one small step forward.
This World Care Day, I’ve been thinking a lot about those quiet moments.
The ones that might not look like much from the outside…
but mean absolutely everything to a child who is still finding their feet.
Moments of patience.
Moments of kindness.
Moments where a carer chooses to stay close, even when things feel hard.
Because here’s something I’ve learned on my adventures:
You don’t have to be perfect to help a child feel safe.
You don’t have to have all the answers.
Sometimes…
just staying close, calm and kind, is more powerful than you might ever realise.
So today, I just want to say thank you.
To the carers who sit on the floor when a child feels small.
To the carers who wait through the wobbly moments.
To the carers who understand that big feelings often need very gentle hands.
You might think those moments are quiet.
But for kids like me…
they can change everything. 💙