Patience Stories for Kids

Milo's grandpa gave him one brown seed in a little paper envelope. "Plant it, water it, and wait," Grandpa said with a wink. "It knows what to do." Milo pushed the seed into a pot of soft dirt. He watered it that morning. The next morning, he ran to the pot. Nothing. "Why is it not growing?" he asked. "It is growing," said Grandpa. "Just not where you can see it yet. Roots first." Milo waited a whole week. He checked the pot every single day. Still nothing but dirt. "This seed is broken," he grumbled. "Seeds are not broken," Grandpa said. "They are brave. They push through the dark before they see the sun. You can be brave too." Milo thought about that. He touched the soil gently and said, "Okay, little seed. I will be patient too." That afternoon he sat by the pot and drew a picture of the flower he hoped for. So Milo kept watering. He sang to the seed. He told it about the big yellow flower it would become. And one morning, when the dew was still on the grass, he saw it. A tiny green stem, no thicker than a pencil line, was peeking out of the soil. "Grandpa! Come look!" Milo shouted. "See?" Grandpa smiled. "It was never broken. It was just getting ready." Milo leaned close to the little stem. "You took your time," he whispered. "And I'm glad I waited." By summer, the stem was taller than Milo. And on top sat a flower so yellow it looked like a piece of the sun had come down to visit.

On Saturday, Lila and her mom made bread. Lila mixed the flour and warm water until the dough was a soft, squishy ball. "Now we wait," said Mom. "The dough needs a nap." "A nap?" Lila giggled. "Dough does not sleep!" "Oh yes it does," said Mom. "Yeast is a tiny helper. It makes the bread rise, but it works slowly, like a snail crossing the garden." They covered the bowl with a clean towel. Lila watched it. Nothing. She lifted the towel three times to peek. Each time the dough was still a small, quiet ball. "Mom, is it working?" she asked for the fourth time. "Trust the nap," Mom said. "Good bread cannot be rushed. When you rush bread, you get a flat, sad pancake." Lila looked at the quiet bowl and decided to be patient. She tiptoed around it like it was a sleeping baby. "Shhh," she told the cat. "The bread is napping." So Lila and Mom went outside and planted tulip bulbs in the window box. They came back inside, washed their hands, and set the table. When Lila finally lifted the towel, she gasped. The dough had grown big and puffy, like a soft pillow. "It worked!" she cheered. Mom let her poke it gently. "Time to bake." The bread came out of the oven golden and warm, and it smelled like the whole house was giving a hug. Lila tore off a piece and blew on it. "Worth the wait," she said with butter on her chin. Mom laughed. "Every good thing is."

Every spring, Nora ran to the peach tree in her yard and looked for flowers. Every spring, the tree stood there with bare, gray branches, as still as a statue. "Is it dead?" Nora asked her dad one chilly morning. "Not dead," Dad said. "Just resting. A peach tree keeps its own calendar." "But I want peaches now!" Nora said, stamping her boot. Dad knelt beside her. "Let me show you something." He pointed to the very tip of a branch. There, so small Nora almost missed it, was a tiny pink bud. "That bud," he said, "is a promise. It will open when it is ready, not one day sooner." Nora stared at the little bud every day on her way to school. It stayed closed through cold rain and gray skies. She wanted to poke it, but she did not. She just watched. Rain came, and wind, and one day a little frost. Nora pulled her coat tight and thought, maybe the bud forgot. But she still said hello to it each morning. Then one morning the sun felt warm on her cheeks, and she heard a sound she could not name. It was soft and bright at the same time. She looked up. The whole tree was covered in pink blossoms, and the air smelled like candy and spring. "It kept its promise," Nora whispered. "It always does," Dad said. "You just had to be patient." That summer, the tree gave them more peaches than Nora could count. And every one of them tasted like waiting done right.

Ruby's class had an incubator, and inside it sat three pale eggs. "In three weeks," said her teacher, "if we keep them warm and still, the chicks will hatch." Three weeks sounded like forever. Ruby wanted to see the chicks right away. She pressed her nose to the warm glass every morning. The eggs just sat there, round and quiet. "Why do they take so long?" Ruby asked. "Because inside each egg, a tiny heart is forming, and a beak, and little feet," her teacher said. "Great things are made slowly." Ruby made a paper countdown chain. Each day she tore off one link. Twenty. Nineteen. The eggs stayed still. Ten. Five. The eggs looked the same as day one. Ruby began to think the eggs would never change. "What if nothing happens?" she asked her teacher. "Then we learn to wait a little longer," the teacher said. Ruby nodded and tore off another link. Then on the last morning, Ruby heard a tiny tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. A crack appeared in one egg, thin as a thread. Ruby held her breath. The crack grew bigger, and slowly, slowly, a wet little head pushed out. "He's here!" Ruby whispered. The chick flopped into the warm straw, tired and tiny. Ruby watched him rest, then fluff up, then wobble to his feet. "You took your sweet time," she said softly. "But look at you now." The chick chirped, as if to say, I was worth the wait. And Ruby knew she would wait all over again just to see it happen.

Arlo had a new kite. It was blue and shaped like a fish, and he was sure it could fly higher than the clouds. But when he ran outside, the air was still. Not one leaf moved. The kite flopped on the grass like a sleepy fish. "Come on, wind!" Arlo shouted at the sky. Grandma came out with two glasses of lemonade. "The wind comes when it comes," she said. "You cannot push the sky." "But I want to fly my kite now!" Arlo said. "Then we wait together," Grandma said. "Sit with me. Watch the clouds. Tell me what shapes you see." So Arlo sat. He saw a rabbit cloud, then a ship, then a dragon with a long tail. He forgot to be cross. He and Grandma counted birds and shared the lemonade, and the afternoon turned soft and golden. They watched an ant carry a crumb three times its own size. They traced pictures in the dust with a stick. Arlo almost forgot about the kite. Then, as the sun sank low, a cool breeze brushed Arlo's cheek. The leaves began to dance. The kite string twitched in his hand. "The wind remembered us!" Arlo jumped up. He ran, and the blue fish kite lifted into the air, higher and higher, until it was a blue speck against the pink sky. Grandma clapped from the porch. "See?" she called. "The wind was always coming. You just gave it time." Arlo smiled up at his fish kite. "Thanks for coming, wind," he said. "And thanks, Grandma, for waiting with me."

Sam ran to the park. He saw the big blue swing. It was his favorite. But a long line of kids stood in front of it. "Oh no," Sam said. "This line is so long." He wanted to run to the front. His feet itched to go. But his dad said, "We wait for our turn, Sam." Sam took a deep breath. He counted the kids. One, two, three, four, five. Five kids before him. That felt like a lot. Sam hummed a song. He tapped his foot. The line moved a little. Then Sam saw a small girl. She could not reach the swing by herself. "I can help you up," Sam said. He lifted her onto the swing and gave her a push. "Thank you," the girl said. She laughed as she went up and down. The line moved more. Now only two kids were ahead of Sam. His heart felt happy. Helping the little girl had made the wait feel short. At last it was Sam's turn. He climbed onto the swing. He kicked his legs and went up, up, up. "Whee!" Sam yelled. The wind blew his hair. His dad smiled. "Was it worth the wait?" Sam thought about it. "Yes," he said. "And helping the girl made the time fly. Waiting is not so bad when you stay busy and kind." Sam swung higher. He knew the next time the line was long, he would wait again. And maybe he would help someone again too.

Ollie sat at the table. A big bowl of tomato soup sat in front of him. It smelled so good. His tummy rumbled. Ollie grabbed his spoon. He dipped it in the soup. But the soup was very hot. Steam rose from the bowl. "I want to eat it now!" Ollie said. "Wait, Ollie," his mom said. "Hot soup can burn your tongue. We have to wait for it to cool." Ollie frowned. Waiting was hard. His tummy wanted the soup right now. "What can I do while I wait?" Ollie asked. "You can blow on it," his mom said. "Slow and soft." Ollie blew on the soup. Puff, puff, puff. The steam danced away. "You can also count," his mom said. "Count to twenty." Ollie counted. "One, two, three..." all the way to twenty. The soup was still warm. "Let us set the table while we wait," his mom said. Ollie put out the spoons and the napkins. He put a cracker on each plate. That kept him busy. Then Ollie had an idea. "I can stir it slow," he said. He stirred the soup in soft circles. The steam went away. His mom touched the bowl. "Now it is just right," she said. Ollie took a spoonful. It was warm and tasty. Not too hot at all. "This is the best soup ever," Ollie said. "Waiting made it perfect." His mom smiled. "You found three ways to wait. Blowing, counting, and staying busy." Ollie ate the whole bowl. He did not burn his tongue. And the next time soup was hot, he knew just what to do.

Ana sat on a bench at the train station. Her dad sat next to her. Grandma was coming on the next train. "When will the train come?" Ana asked. "Soon," her dad said. "We just have to wait a little." Ana waited. She kicked her legs. She looked at her shoes. She waited some more. The train did not come. "I am bored," Ana said. "Waiting is so hard." "Let us play a game," her dad said. "How many red things can you see?" Ana looked around. "A red sign. A red coat. A red bag," she said. "Three red things!" "Good eyes!" her dad said. "Now how many blue things?" Ana found a blue hat, a blue drink, and a blue bird on a wire. "Three blue things too!" she said. The game was fun. She forgot to feel bored. Then her dad said, "Let us listen. What sounds do you hear?" Ana closed her eyes. "I hear people talking. I hear a bell. I hear wheels on the track far away," she said. The wheels grew louder. Clack, clack, clack. A bright train pulled into the station. "Grandma is on that train!" Ana said. She jumped up and down. The doors opened. Grandma stepped out with a big smile. "Ana!" she called. Ana ran to her and gave her a big hug. "I waited for you!" Ana said. "We played games while we waited." "What a good way to wait," Grandma said. "Now tell me all about the games on the way home." Ana took Grandma's hand. The long wait was over. It did not feel so long after all.

Leo found a tiny tadpole in the pond. It had a round body and a long tail. It wiggled in the water. "Can I keep it?" Leo asked his mom. "Yes," she said. "But you must be patient. A tadpole does not turn into a frog in one day." Leo put the tadpole in a big jar of clean water. He watched it all morning. "Grow legs!" he said. But the tadpole just wiggled. The next day, Leo looked in the jar. Still no legs. "Why is it so slow?" Leo asked. "Big changes take time," his mom said. "Feed it a little, and wait." Leo fed the tadpole a tiny bit of lettuce. He waited. Day after day, he watched and fed it. He drew a picture of the tadpole. He named it Pip. One morning, Leo saw two small legs. "Mom, come look! Pip has legs!" he shouted. "See?" his mom said. "It was growing all along, even when you could not see it." More days passed. Pip's tail got shorter. Its legs got longer. Then one day, Pip hopped out of the water and sat on a leaf. "Pip is a frog now!" Leo said. His heart felt full. "You waited and cared for it," his mom said. "That is why you got to see the change." Leo smiled at the little frog. "I am glad I waited," he said. He carried the jar to the pond. He tipped it gently. Pip hopped into the water and swam away. "Goodbye, Pip," Leo said. "Grow big and strong." Leo walked home with the empty jar. He had waited a long time. But seeing Pip turn into a frog was worth every day of it.

Ben's birthday was ten days away. Ten whole days! That felt like forever. "Is it my birthday yet?" Ben asked at breakfast. "Not yet," his mom said. "Ten more sleeps." "Is it my birthday yet?" Ben asked at lunch. "Not yet," his mom said. "Still ten more sleeps." Ben felt sad. Waiting was so hard. He wanted cake and balloons right now. His mom pulled out a big sheet of paper. She drew ten boxes on it. "This is a birthday chart," she said. "Every night, you put a star in one box. When all ten boxes have a star, it is your birthday." That night, Ben put a star in the first box. Nine boxes left. The wait felt a little smaller. "What can we do while we wait?" Ben asked. "Each day, do one small job to get ready," his mom said. "Today, pick the color of your cake." Ben picked blue. The next day, he helped write party cards. The next day, he helped blow up one balloon. Each day had one fun job. Every night, Ben put a star in a box. The chart filled up, star by star. On the last night, only one box was empty. Ben put in the last star. "All ten boxes are full!" he said. The next morning, Ben woke up to cake, balloons, and his friends. "Happy birthday, Ben!" they all called. "The wait was long," Ben said. "But the chart and the little jobs made it fun." His mom hugged him. "And now your big day is here." Ben smiled at his full chart. He had waited, and it was worth it.

At the water park, Maya saw the tall blue slide. It twisted and turned. "I want to ride it!" she said. She and her brother ran to the slide. But the line was very long. It went up the steps and around the corner. "This line is so long," Maya said. "Let us go do something else." "Wait," her brother said. "The best ride has the longest line. The wait is part of the fun." Maya was not sure. She crossed her arms. "I do not like waiting." "Then let us make the wait fun," her brother said. "I spy something blue." Maya looked around. "The big umbrella?" she asked. "No," he said. "It is in the water." "The float with the blue stripes!" Maya said. "My turn. I spy something yellow." They played the game the whole way up. They talked about which rides they would try next. The line moved step by step. Soon they were near the top. Maya could see the whole park from up there. "Wow," she said. "This is a great view. I would have missed it if we left." At last it was their turn. Maya sat on the slide. Her heart went fast, but in a good way. "Wheee!" she yelled as she zipped down. The water splashed her face. It was the best ride ever. "That was amazing!" Maya said when she reached the bottom. "Worth the wait?" her brother asked. "Yes!" Maya said. "And the game made the time fly. Let us get back in line!" So they did. And this time, Maya knew the wait was part of the fun too.

Mia wrote a letter to her grandma, who lived far away. She drew a big yellow sun on it. She put it in a blue mailbox. "When will Grandma write back?" Mia asked. "It takes time for a letter to travel," her mom said. "You have to wait." Mia waited one day. No letter. She waited two days. No letter. She waited three days. Still no letter. "Why is it so slow?" Mia asked. She felt a little sad. Her mom pulled out a map. "Look," she said. "Grandma lives way over here. Your letter goes by truck, then by plane, then by truck again. It is a long trip for a small letter." Mia looked at the map. "Wow," she said. "My letter is on a big trip!" "Yes," her mom said. "And Grandma's letter to you is on a trip too. It will get here. We just have to wait." Every day, Mia checked the mailbox. Some days there was a bill. Some days there was a flyer. But no letter for Mia. Then one sunny morning, Mia opened the mailbox. There it was! A pink letter with her name on it. She ran inside. She opened it slowly. Inside was a letter from Grandma and a photo of Grandma's garden. "Dear Mia," it said. "I loved your sun. I hung it on my fridge. Love, Grandma." Mia smiled big. "It came!" she said. "The letter came all that way, just for me." "Was it worth the wait?" her mom asked. "Yes," Mia said. "It is the best letter ever." She wrote back the very same day. This time, she knew the wait would be worth it.

It rained all day. Drip, drip, drip went the water on the roof. Ravi wanted to play outside. He pressed his nose to the window and sighed. "The rain will not stop," Ravi said. "I want to ride my bike." "We have to wait for the rain to stop," his mom said. "Let us find something fun to do inside." Ravi was not happy. Waiting out the rain felt so long. "How long will it rain?" he asked. "Maybe an hour. Maybe more," his mom said. "Let us read a book together." They read a book about a bear. Then they built a tower with blocks. Ravi almost forgot about the rain. Then they made paper boats. "When the rain stops, we can sail these in the puddles," his mom said. Ravi liked that idea. He made a big red boat and a small yellow one. The rain tapped on the window like a song. After a while, the tapping got softer. Then it stopped. The sun came out from behind the clouds. "The rain stopped!" Ravi yelled. He grabbed his boats and ran outside. The ground was wet and shiny. Ravi saw something in the sky. "A rainbow!" he shouted. It arched over the trees in bright colors. Then Ravi saw the puddles. Big, wide, wonderful puddles. He set his boats in the water and watched them float. "This is the best," Ravi said. "The puddles and the rainbow would not be here if we did not wait." His mom smiled. "The rain had to fall first. Waiting made the good part possible." Ravi sailed his boats all afternoon. The wait was long, but the payoff was bright.

Leo's mama had a baby in her tummy. Leo could not wait to meet it. Every day he asked, "Is the baby here yet?" "Not yet," Mama said. "The baby needs more time to grow." Leo put his hand on Mama's tummy. "Why does it take so long?" he asked. "A baby starts very small," Mama said. "Smaller than a pea. It grows a little every day. Soon it will be big enough to be born." Leo looked at his toy car. "I want the baby now," he said. "I know," Mama said. "But good things take time. A flower needs time to bloom. A cake needs time to bake. A baby needs time to grow." Every week, Leo drew a picture of the baby. First it was a tiny dot. Then it was a little bean. Then it was a baby with fingers and toes. Mama hung the pictures on the wall. "Look how the baby is growing," Mama said. "Your pictures show it." One morning, Mama said, "Leo, the baby is coming today." Leo's heart went fast. He waited at home with Grandpa. He played with his cars. He ate a snack. He waited and waited. Then the phone rang. Grandpa smiled. "The baby is here!" he said. Soon Mama came home with a tiny bundle. Leo looked inside the blanket. There was a baby with small fingers and a round nose. "This is your little sister," Mama said. "Her name is Rose." Leo touched her tiny hand. "Hi, Rose," he whispered. "I waited a long time for you." Rose held his finger. Leo smiled. "She was worth the wait." Mama hugged him. "She sure was," she said. "And now you have a sister forever."

Every afternoon, Leo heard the ice cream truck song. Ding-a-ling-a-ling, it went, far down the street. Leo ran to the window. "Is it here?" he asked. "Not yet," his mom said. "The truck is still far away. We have to wait." Leo ran to the door. He looked up and down the street. No truck. The song grew softer, then faded away. "It is taking forever," Leo said. "I want ice cream now." "The truck will come," his mom said. "While we wait, let us get ready." Leo and his mom got ready. Leo put on his shoes. His mom got the money. They found a small towel for sticky hands. "Now what?" Leo asked. He looked down the street again. Still no truck. "Let us listen," his mom said. "The song tells us when the truck is close." They sat on the step and listened. Leo heard a dog barking. He heard a bird singing. Then, far away, he heard it. Ding-a-ling-a-ling. "I hear it!" Leo said. "It is getting closer!" The song grew louder and louder. Then the bright truck turned onto their street. Leo jumped up. "It is here! It is here!" he shouted. The truck stopped right in front of their house. The man in the truck smiled. "What would you like?" he asked. Leo picked a strawberry cone with a swirl on top. It was cold and sweet and perfect. "Waiting was hard," Leo said. "But getting ready made it faster." His mom smiled. "And the ice cream tastes better when you have waited for it." Leo licked his cone. She was right. It was the best ice cream ever.

Nora and Grandpa were building a big puzzle. It had a hundred pieces. The picture on the box showed a red barn and a cow. "This will take a long time," Nora said. "Yes," Grandpa said. "But slow and steady hands finish the puzzle." They worked a little every day. First the corners. Then the edges. Then the middle. Day after day, the picture grew. One day, Nora wanted to rush. "I want to finish it now!" she said. She pushed pieces that did not fit. "Easy, Nora," Grandpa said. "A puzzle takes patience. One piece at a time." Nora slowed down. She looked at each piece. She turned them and tried again. The picture came together, bit by bit. At last, only one piece was left. It showed the cow's nose. But the piece was not in the box. Nora looked everywhere. "It is gone!" Nora said. "We did all this work for nothing." "Let us not give up," Grandpa said. "The piece is here somewhere." They looked under the table. They looked behind the couch. They looked in Nora's pocket. No piece. Then Nora looked at Grandpa's sleeve. "Grandpa," she said, "what is that on your shirt?" Grandpa looked down. The missing piece was stuck to his sleeve! Nora laughed and laughed. Grandpa laughed too. She snapped the last piece into place. The puzzle was done. The red barn and the cow looked perfect. "We did it," Nora said. "It took a long time, but it was worth it." "Patience and a good laugh," Grandpa said. "That is the secret to any puzzle." They hung the finished puzzle on the wall. Every time Nora saw it, she smiled.

On a cold morning, Nora stood at the bus stop with her dad. Her breath made little clouds in the air. "The bus is late," Nora said. She shivered. "My toes are cold." "We have to wait a little longer," her dad said. "Let us find a way to stay warm." Nora stamped her feet. Stamp, stamp, stamp. "That helps a little," she said. "Let us play a jumping game," her dad said. "Jump when I say a number. Ready?" "Ready!" Nora said. "One!" her dad called. Nora jumped. "Three!" Nora jumped three times. "Five!" Nora jumped five times. The jumping made her warm. Her cheeks turned pink. She forgot about the cold. "Now let us look for the bus," her dad said. "Can you see its lights far away?" Nora looked down the road. She saw a big yellow shape. "I see it!" she said. "It is coming!" The bus rolled up with a hiss. The doors opened. Warm air came out. Nora climbed on and found a seat by the window. "The bus is so warm," Nora said. She waved to her dad through the window. The bus driver smiled. "Sorry we were late," she said. "The roads were icy." "That is okay," Nora said. "We jumped to stay warm while we waited." "Good plan," the driver said. "A little wait and a little game make the cold feel small." Nora looked out the window at the frosty trees. She was warm and on her way. The wait had not been so bad after all. In fact, the jumping game had been fun. Nora decided she would play it again the next time she had to wait.

Tessa painted a picture for her mom. She used red, blue, and yellow. It was a garden with a big round sun. "I want to hang it up now!" Tessa said. She reached for the wet paper. "Wait, Tessa," her mom said. "The paint is still wet. If you touch it now, it will smear." Tessa looked at her picture. The paint did look shiny and wet. "But I want to show it to you now," she said. "I can see it from here," her mom said. "It is beautiful. But paint needs time to dry. Good work needs time." Tessa sighed. Waiting for paint to dry felt very long. "How long?" she asked. "Let us set a timer," her mom said. "Ten minutes. While we wait, we can wash the brushes and tidy up." Tessa and her mom washed the brushes. The water turned all sorts of colors. Then they put the lids back on the paint jars. Tessa wiped the table. "Is it dry yet?" Tessa asked. "Not yet," her mom said. "A few more minutes. Let us pick a spot on the wall for it." Tessa picked the spot right above her bed. "I will see it every morning," she said. Then the timer went off. Ding! Tessa touched the corner of the paper with one finger. It was dry. She carefully lifted the picture. The colors were bright. Not one smear. "It dried perfectly," Tessa said. "If I had grabbed it, it would have been ruined." Her mom helped her hang the picture on the wall. "Waiting for paint to dry is a small wait," she said. "But it saves your work." Tessa smiled at her garden and her big round sun. "It was worth the wait," she said. "My picture is perfect."

Sid got a tiny orange fish. It was no bigger than his thumb. He named it Sunny. "I want Sunny to be big now," Sid said. "I will feed it a lot." "Wait, Sid," his grandpa said. "A fish grows slowly. If you feed it too much, it can get sick." Sid looked at the little fish. "But I want it to be big like the fish at the store." "Little things grow with time and care," his grandpa said. "Not in one day." Sid fed Sunny one small pinch of food each morning. He watched it swim around the tank. Day after day, Sunny looked the same size. "Sunny is not growing," Sid said one day. He felt sad. "It is growing," Grandpa said. "Just very slowly. It is hard to see a small change from one day to the next." Grandpa took out a photo. It was a picture of Sunny on the day Sid got him. Then he held a ruler near the tank. "Look," he said. "Sunny is longer now than in the photo." Sid looked close. Grandpa was right. Sunny was a little bigger. "So it is growing," Sid said. "I just could not see it day by day." "That is how most good things work," Grandpa said. "A little at a time." Weeks passed. Sid kept feeding Sunny a small pinch each day. He kept the tank clean. Then one morning, he saw that Sunny filled the whole corner of the tank. "Grandpa, come look!" Sid called. "Sunny is big now!" "See?" Grandpa said. "Time and care. That is all it took." Sid smiled at his fish. "Good job, Sunny," he said. "You grew big, just like Grandpa said." Sid learned that some things cannot be rushed. They grow at their own pace, and that is okay.

It was pizza night. Priya's favorite. Her dad called the pizza shop and placed the order. "It will be about thirty minutes," her dad said. "Thirty minutes?" Priya said. "That is forever!" She sat on the couch and stared at the clock. The hands moved so slowly. She asked, "Is it here yet?" five times. "Not yet," her dad said. "The pizza takes time to cook." Priya sighed. Her tummy rumbled. "I am so hungry. Waiting is the worst." "Let us get ready for the pizza," her dad said. "That will make the time go faster." Priya set the table. She put out the plates and the napkins. She filled the cups with water. She even folded the napkins into little triangles. "Now let us make a dipping sauce," her dad said. They mixed red sauce with a little honey. Priya stirred it slow. "Now let us play a game," her dad said. "I say a topping. You say if you like it." "Pepperoni," her dad said. "Yes!" Priya said. "Mushrooms," her dad said. "No way!" Priya laughed. The game made her forget the clock. Before she knew it, the doorbell rang. "The pizza is here!" Priya yelled. She ran to the door. The delivery man handed over the hot box. It smelled so good. Priya carried it to the table. They opened the box. Steam rose up. The cheese was stretchy and golden. "This looks perfect," Priya said. She took a big bite. "The best pizza ever." "Was it worth the wait?" her dad asked. "Yes," Priya said. "And getting ready made the time fly. I forgot to watch the clock." Her dad smiled. "That is the secret to waiting. Stay busy, and the good thing shows up before you know it." Priya ate three slices. The wait was long, but the pizza made it all worth it.