Maya loved two things more than anything in the whole world: dinosaurs that stomped and roared, and the big blue ocean that whispered against the sand. One golden evening she walked along the shore with her little brother Theo and Biscuit, their bouncy little dog.
'Look!' Theo squealed, pointing at a tide pool. Curled among the seaweed was a tiny green creature with bumpy scales and gentle, hopeful eyes. 'A dragon!' Maya gasped. But the little dragon was stuck — the water was slipping away, and it couldn't find its way back to the sea.
Maya's tummy felt fluttery. The waves looked so big, and she had never gone in past her ankles. 'I can't,' she whispered. 'It's too deep.'
Biscuit nudged her hand. Theo looked up with hopeful eyes. Maya took one slow breath, the way her mama had taught her. 'Okay, little dragon,' she said. 'I'll try.'
She stepped in — one foot, then the other — cupping the dragon gently in her hands. The water tickled her knees, then her tummy, but she kept going, brave as any dinosaur. When a soft wave rolled in, she opened her hands, and the little dragon swirled away, free, sparkling like a star beneath the sea.
Theo cheered. Biscuit barked and spun in a happy circle. And Maya stood in the gentle tide with the biggest grin, because she had done the very thing that had scared her.
That night, snuggled under her dinosaur blanket, Maya decided that the bravest hearts aren't the ones that never feel afraid — they're the ones that take a deep breath and try anyway.