⏱ ~4 min reading
Marinka was walking home from kindergarten with her mother when she saw a big dog in the neighboring yard. Not like the little Sharyk at her grandmother's — the one the size of a sofa cushion. But a real big one. Black and white. With paws like an adult's palms, with ears that drooped, and with a tail that slowly waggled back and forth.
The dog stood on the path and looked at Marinka.
Marinka froze. She squeezed her mother's hand tightly.
— Mom.
— I see, daughter.
— I want to run away.
— No need to run away.
— Why?
Mom sat down next to her. Marinka could see her mother's earrings—small silver drops that swayed slightly.
"Because when you run away, the dog thinks they're playing with him. And he runs after you. That's how dogs do it.".
— What to do?
— Stand still. Look calmly. Don't wave your arms. Like a tree.
Marinka thought. A tree. Like a tree. Trees are not afraid, even though all kinds of dogs run past them.
At that moment, a man in a sweater emerged from the neighboring yard. Tall, kind, with a slightly gray beard. He held a leash in his hand—blue, soft.
"Don't be afraid," the man said. "It's Lord. He's good. Just great.".
The lord heard his name and turned his head. He approached the man. The man fastened the leash to the collar.
"Can I..." Marinka began in a thin voice.
Mom looked questioningly.
— Can I… take a look?
The man smiled.
"You can. Come up slowly. Hold out your hand. Not on top of the head—dogs don't like that—but from the side, towards the nose. Let him sniff.".
Marinka took a step. A small one. Then another. Her heart was beating loudly—Marinka thought Lord could hear it. But Lord didn't move. He stood still, only wagging his tail—here and there.
Marinka held out her hand. A small one, with pink polish on one nail — it was Grandma's joke yesterday.
The Lord tilted his head. A wet black nose touched Marin's palm. Once. Then again. Then a hot pink tongue licked her hand.
Licked! Like a true friend!
Marinka laughed — unexpectedly for herself.
— He licked me!
«Because he liked you,» the man said. “That’s how the Lord says ‘hello.’”.
Marinka gently stroked Lord's neck. The fur was soft as a rug. Lord closed one eye, content.
"Why did I think he was angry?"
"Because it's big," the man explained. "Big doesn't mean bad. Big is just big. And bad or good is a different matter.".
Marinka nodded. It seemed important to her - and she remembered it.
On the way home, Marinka walked next to her mother and thought. She thought about Lord. About the wet nose. About the pink tongue.
— Mom.
— What, daughter?
— I almost ran away.
— Yes.
"And if I had run away, Lord wouldn't have licked me. And I wouldn't have known that he was good.".
— Yes, my daughter.
"So running away is worse than standing still?"
Mom thought.
"Not always. Sometimes we have to run away—if something is really dangerous. But often, often—what we fear is actually good. And when we stand still—it shows itself to us.".
Marinka nodded.
At home, Marinka drew a picture of Lord. Black and white, with hanging ears, and a pink tongue. She drew herself next to him, small, with her hand outstretched. In the picture, Lord was kind—it was clear from his smiling mouth and cheerful eyes.
Mom hung the picture on the refrigerator, next to a magnet in the shape of a ladybug.
From then on, whenever Marinka met dogs in the yard — even big ones — she would stop. She would look at the owner. She would ask: «Can I?» And if she could — she would hold out her hand, as she was taught. Because she knew: calm is also courage. And also — calm opens the door to new friends.
💡 Calmness is also courage.