Leo walked into the playground. The older kids zoomed past — whoosh, whoosh. He stayed right where he was.
Leo grabbed the swing chain and pulled. His feet wouldn't lift. He let go and watched them go.
The older kids lined up at the stepping stones. One by one they bounced across. Leo's turn.
Leo ran and hopped onto the first stone. Then he stopped. His sneaker scuffed the ground. He stepped back and watched them whoosh past.
Someone kicked the ball too hard. It landed right on top of the monkey bars. Nobody could reach it.
Leo stood at the edge and looked up. The ball was right there. He thought: maybe I can reach it.
Leo put one hand on the bar, then the other. He climbed up — steady, quiet, higher and higher.
His fingers pinched the ball and dropped it — right into a waiting hand. Everyone cheered.
The next morning Leo walked to the playground again. The older kids waved him over. 'Want to go first?' one asked.
Leo climbed the bars first, showing them how. Then they all played together.
The ball bounced between them as they played. Leo stayed right in the middle.
Leo didn't stay on the edge anymore. He was in the game.
