{"id":975,"date":"2026-05-01T18:27:06","date_gmt":"2026-05-01T15:27:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/?post_type=kazka&p=975"},"modified":"2026-06-03T23:25:14","modified_gmt":"2026-06-03T20:25:14","slug":"prykhylna-nichka","status":"publish","type":"kazka","link":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/en\/kazka\/prykhylna-nichka\/","title":{"rendered":"A supportive night"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u23f1 ~4 min reading<\/p>\n\n\n

Solomiya loved the day. During the day everything was clear: sunlight streaks jumped on the carpet, a spoon clinked against a cup in the kitchen, and outside the window the neighbor's dog Brovko barked at the pigeons. But when mom turned off the lamp and the door quietly closed, the room became so large that it seemed as if the walls were moving apart in different directions. And Solomiya felt scared.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m alone,\u201d she whispered under the blanket. \u201cIt\u2019s dark.\u201d.<\/p>\n\n

Her heart began to pound in her little chest, like a rabbit in a chest. The girl pulled the blanket up to her eyes and listened. Now the wardrobe creaked. Now the curtain rustled. Now somewhere far away on the street a car drove by. And every sound seemed like something big, unfamiliar, alien.<\/p>\n\n

That was how it was that evening. Mom came, kissed Solomiyka on the nose, straightened the blanket, and whispered:<\/p>\n\n

"Sleep peacefully, my little one. I'm right there, in the living room.".<\/p>\n\n

The door clicked softly. The last ray of the nightlight dozed on the ceiling\u2014warm, amber, barely noticeable. Solomiyka pulled the pillow to her cheek\u2014large, soft, in a pillowcase embroidered with daisies. Grandma had once embroidered it.<\/p>\n\n

And then something strange happened.<\/p>\n\n

The pillow\u2014her own pillow\u2014suddenly whispered softly:<\/p>\n\n

\u2014 I'm with you.<\/p>\n\n

The voice was thin, like the rustle of a petal. Straw froze. She wasn't scared\u2014the voice was too gentle to scare. But her heart skipped a beat anyway.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cAre you\u2026 are you alive?\u201d the girl whispered.<\/p>\n\n

"I'm alive," the pillow replied. "I've just always been silent. I've been with you since the day you were first brought home from the hospital. I've listened to your breathing. I've listened to your dreams. I know how you toss and turn at night and how you sigh when you dream of a cartoon fox. I'm your old friend.".<\/p>\n\n

Straw hugged the pillow tightly \u2014 as if it were alive. She pressed her cheek against it. The pillow smelled of grandmother's lavender and a little milk powder \u2014 the same smell it always had.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cYou won\u2019t leave me?\u201d the girl asked.<\/p>\n\n

"Never. I can't leave. I'm here.".<\/p>\n\n

"Who else is here?"<\/p>\n\n

The pillow laughed softly, like a fluffy breeze:<\/p>\n\n

\u2014 Oh, there are many of us. Look around.<\/p>\n\n

Solomiyka slowly looked around the room. On the shelf sat a teddy bear named Misha with one ear torn off. On the windowsill stood a pot of violets\u2014Mom said her name was Lilka. Under the bed, in a wooden box, were sleeping cubes with painted letters. A blue pajama top hung on the chair, and a butterfly was sewn onto its pocket.<\/p>\n\n\n

\"\u041f\u0440\u0438\u0445\u0438\u043b\u044c\u043d\u0430<\/figure>\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re all here,\u201d the pillow whispered. \u201cJust listen.\u201d.<\/p>\n\n

Solomiyka listened. And at first there was nothing. And then \u2014 like very thin, thin threads \u2014 she heard.<\/p>\n\n

Bear Misha sighed in his sleep. Violet Lilka swayed slightly - as if nodding. The cubes tapped softly against each other - once or twice, once or twice, like a little heart. And the butterfly on the pocket of his pajamas seemed to flap its wings and say: "Good night, Solomiyko.".<\/p>\n\n

The girl smiled. For the first time in a long time \u2014 in the dark.<\/p>\n\n

"So I'm not alone?"<\/p>\n\n

"You were never alone," the pillow whispered softly. "We were just waiting for you to hear us.".<\/p>\n\n

Solomiyka closed her eyes. She pressed her cheek against the daisies on the pillowcase. The room became cozy\u2014as if someone had poured warm milk into the very air. The walls stopped moving apart. The wardrobe no longer creaked terribly\u2014it creaked like an old friend creaking when turning on its side. And the curtain rustled like a mother rustling when she straightens her hair.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cWhat if I get sad again?\u201d the girl whispered sleepily.<\/p>\n\n

\u2014 Then hug me. Or a teddy bear. Or a blanket. And tell me. We all hear. All living things know how to feel sorry \u2014 even those that seem silent. It\u2019s just that not all people know how to listen.<\/p>\n\n

Straw nodded. Sleep was already settling on her eyelashes\u2014soft, warm, like a kitten.<\/p>\n\n

\u2014 Good night, pillow.<\/p>\n\n

\u2014 Good night, little one.<\/p>\n\n

In the morning, Solomiyka woke up earlier than her mother. The sun tickled her nose. She looked around - the teddy bear was sitting on the shelf, the violet turned to the light, the cubes lay quietly in the chest. Everything was the same. And everything was different.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cMom,\u201d she said over breakfast, taking small bites of the crust of bread and butter, \u201cI\u2019m not afraid of the night anymore.\u201d.<\/p>\n\n

Mom put down her cup and looked at her daughter with a long, warm gaze.<\/p>\n\n

"Why, honey?"<\/p>\n\n

"Because now I know. My room is full of people who love me. I just need to recognize them.".<\/p>\n\n

Mom didn't answer anything - she just kissed her on the top of her head. And the pillow with daisies lay on the bed and smiled softly - as only a true old friend could.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n\n

\u2728 The universe is full of those who love you - you just need to hear them next to you \u2728<\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n

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