Sara builds a tower so tall. All her wooden blocks go up, up, up.
Her baby brother waddles over. Crash! The tower falls. Thump, thump, thump — Sara stomps.
Sara marches to her desk. She grabs a red crayon and draws a big angry circle — lines shooting out all around it.
The circle glows. A soft voice whispers, "Breathe in, breathe out." Sara inhales. And lets it out.
The red circle melts away. A soft yellow sun shines on the page instead.
At the park, the swing chain won't budge. She pulls. She pulls. Still stuck.
Thump, thump, thump. She stomps. Then she closes her eyes and breathes.
She tries again. The chain won't move. Her foot stamps — the paper slides off. The crayon snaps. A red streak appears.
She stares at the red streak. Then — she giggles. She uses the broken crayon to draw a new sun.
Sara takes one last deep breath. She smiles. The sun shines back at her.
