The Penguin Kindergarten

On the way to school, Whyia and Mama walked past the little kindergarten on the corner. At the gate, a little boy was crying. He held his dad’s hand with both of his hands.

“I don’t want you to go!” the boy sobbed. His dad knelt down and hugged him. “I’ll be back after lunch.” Whyia held Mama’s hand a little tighter.

All day, Whyia kept thinking about the boy. That evening, when Mama came to say good night, she asked: “Mama, did I cry like that too?”

“You did,” said Mama. “Wait here.” She came back with an old box. Inside was a tiny backpack with a yellow duck on it. “My kindergarten backpack!” said Whyia. “It’s so small!”

“You were small too,” said Mama. “You were five. Do you remember your first day?” Whyia hugged her knees. “I remember my tummy. It felt tight, like a knot.”

“I held your hand and didn’t want to let go,” said Whyia. “The room was so loud, and everyone was a stranger. I thought maybe you would forget me there.”

“I remember that morning too,” said Mama softly. “I walked around the corner, and my heart felt so heavy. I wanted to run back and hug you again.” Whyia’s eyes grew wide. “You were sad too?”

“I missed you all morning,” said Mama. “But I knew Miss Rosa would take good care of you. And I knew I would come back.”

“Then we made up our goodbye song!” said Whyia. Mama sang softly, “Tra la loo...” And Whyia sang back, “I love you!” They both giggled.

“Every morning, we said goodbye the same way,” said Mama. “One big hug, our song, and I told you when I would come.” “After lunch!” said Whyia. “You always came after lunch.”

“You never left without saying goodbye,” said Whyia. “Even when I cried.” “If I had slipped away, you would have looked for me behind every door,” said Mama. “But when I say goodbye, you know I’m going, and you know I’ll come back.”

At the bottom of the box was a crayon drawing of a mama and a little girl, holding hands and smiling. “That’s you and me!” said Whyia. “I made it on my first day. Miss Rosa said I could draw something for you while I waited.” “It’s still my favorite picture,” said Mama.

Whyia looked out at the night sky. “Do baby animals miss their mamas too?” “I’m sure they do,” said Mama. “Penguin chicks wait together for days while their parents go fishing in the sea.”

“Can I go and see them?” asked Whyia. “Will you be here when I come back?” Mama kissed her forehead. “Right here. I’ll wait for you, just like you waited for me.” Whyia closed her eyes and said the magic words: “Look at me, here I stand! Not a girl, but a penguin instead!”

Golden sparks swirled around her. Her arms became flippers. Her feet became wide and flat. Her pajamas became soft gray fluff. With a whoosh, Whyia was a little penguin chick!

All around her were snow and ice. Hundreds and hundreds of fluffy chicks huddled together to stay warm. A tall penguin waddled up. “Welcome to the penguin kindergarten! I’m Auntie Frost. The little ones wait here together while the parents go fishing.”

Then Whyia heard crying. A tiny chick stood all alone at the edge of the ice, looking out at the sea. “My mama went away,” he cried. “What if she forgets me?”

Whyia waddled over. “I’m Whyia. What’s your name?” “Pip,” sniffed the chick. Whyia sat down beside him. “I know that feeling. On my first day of kindergarten, I was afraid my mama would forget me too.”

“Did she?” asked Pip. “Never,” said Whyia. “She came back every single day. And she missed me too, the whole time.”

“When will my mama come?” asked Pip. Auntie Frost leaned down. “When her tummy is full of fish for you. That takes a while. But your mama will come back. Mamas always do.”

Pip looked at the sea. “That’s a long time to wait.” “Waiting is easier when you do something,” said Whyia. “At kindergarten, I drew a picture. What do penguins like to do?” Pip’s eyes sparkled. “We slide!”

Whyia and Pip flopped onto their tummies. Whoosh! They slid down the snowy slope, again and again. Other chicks joined in, one after another. Whyia laughed so hard her fluff shook, and Pip laughed too.

“Look, little ones!” called Auntie Frost. “The parents are coming home!” A long line of penguins was marching across the ice from the sea.

Pip’s tummy tightened. “There are so many! How will she find me?” “Every penguin family has its own special song,” said Auntie Frost. “Your mama knows your voice better than anyone in the world.”

“Just like our goodbye song!” said Whyia. “Let’s sing yours, Pip. Loud!” Pip lifted his beak and sang: “Pip, pip, peeee!”

Far away, a voice sang back: “Pip, pip, peeee!” A big penguin stopped and turned. She sang again and walked straight through the crowd toward them.

“Mama!” cried Pip. They rubbed beaks and sang their song together. “I missed you every minute,” said Mama Penguin. She had brought a tummy full of fish just for him.

Pip wiggled with joy, and a puff of his baby fluff floated into Whyia’s flipper. “Keep it,” said Pip. “So you remember: mamas come back.” Whyia smiled. “Now I want to go home to mine.”

Whyia waved goodbye to Pip and Auntie Frost and said: “Look at me, here I stand! Not a penguin, but a girl instead!” Golden sparks danced around her. Soon she was back on her bed, with the puff of fluff in her hand. Mama was right there, just like she promised.

“You came back!” said Mama. “And you waited!” said Whyia. She told Mama all about Pip, the slide and the penguin songs. Then they sang their goodbye song together, very softly. “Tra la loo...” “I love you!”

The next morning, they walked past the little kindergarten again. The boy was at the gate, and his lip was shaking. Whyia flapped her arms like penguin flippers. The boy laughed and flapped back. Then he hugged his dad goodbye and walked in with his teacher.

From that day on, Whyia knew three goodbye tricks: say goodbye the same way every time, find something fun to do while you wait, and remember when Mama or Dad will come back. Missing someone is just love, waiting to say hello again.