It was bedtime. Lights low. My child clung to me eyes wide, body tense. I asked gently, “What’s wrong?”

Silence.

That night, we read Facing My Fears. A story about fear, told simply and kindly. When we reached the page with the child hiding under the blanket, my little one whispered:
“Like me. I feel scared too.”

It was the first time my child could name fear.
Not cry it. Not show it. Say it.

That moment reminded me why I write:
Books don’t just entertain. They unlock words for feelings too big to hold alone.

If you have a little one who struggles to say what’s inside… maybe this book can help them, too.