Lena was five years old, and today she was waiting for her turn to use the art table at her classroom. The table was small, and only two children could sit there at a time. Right now, both seats were taken.
Lena stood nearby, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her hands felt tight, and her chest felt buzzy, like it wanted to hurry everything along. She watched the crayons move across the paper.
“I want to draw now,” she said quietly.
Ms. Rosa knelt beside her. “I hear you,” she said. “Waiting can feel hard.”
“How long is long?” Lena asked.
Ms. Rosa smiled. “Let’s think together. What could you do while you wait?”
Lena looked around. She tried standing very still, but her toes kept tapping. She tried counting the tiles on the floor, but she lost track. Her shoulders scrunched up.
“This feels wiggly inside,” Lena said.
“That makes sense,” Ms. Rosa replied. “Do you want help making a plan?”
Lena nodded. “Yes. I don’t like the wiggly.”
They walked to the shelf. Lena picked up a small notebook and a pencil. She sat at a nearby table and drew circles while she waited. After a minute, she peeked at the art table again. The seats were still full.
“It’s still not my turn,” Lena said, her voice tight.
“You noticed,” Ms. Rosa said. “What could help right now?”
Lena thought. “Maybe I can ask how much longer.”
She walked over and said, “Can you tell me when you’re almost done?”
One child looked up. “I need one more minute,” he said.
Lena went back to her seat. She took a slow breath, the way Ms. Rosa had shown her before. Her hands relaxed a little. She drew one more circle. Then another.
Ms. Rosa checked in. “How is your body now?”
“Still waiting,” Lena said, “but it’s not so buzzy.”
Soon, one chair at the art table was empty.
“Lena, it’s your turn,” Ms. Rosa said.
Lena smiled and carried her notebook over. As she picked up a crayon, she felt proud and a little tired.
Waiting had been hard. She still didn’t like it. But she had found ways to get through it, one small choice at a time.