Kidy
The pool is enormous, little one. From the steps, where you have been standing for a while now, it looks like a whole blue country, wobbling and glittering, with no floor you can trust. Other kids splash and shriek in the middle of it. Your feet stay exactly where they are.
'WATCH THIS!' bellows Growy from the edge. 'THE MAGNIFICENT CANNONBALL!' Growy leaps, tucks nothing, and lands flat on its tummy with a slap that echoes across the whole pool. Growy surfaces with water up its nose and one ear folded the wrong way, paddling in a small confused circle. You reach out from the steps and tow Growy in. 'The water,' Growy burbles, 'is stronger than it looks.'
You both sit on the steps to recover, water up to your waist, and Growy says the useful thing: 'Here is what I got wrong. I tried to beat the whole pool at once. But you never touch the whole pool. Look.' Growy points at your legs. 'Right now, only THIS water is touching you. One little bit. You do not have to trust a whole blue country. Only the puddle you are actually in.'
One step down. The little bit of water around you comes along, warm from the sun. Another step. Then Growy says, 'Now the good part. Lean back onto it.' And when you finally stop gripping and lie back, the water gathers under you like a wide, steady hand, and you can feel its fingers, holding you up without being asked. 'You do not have to trust the whole pool,' Growy says softly. 'Only the little bit of water under you.'
You float, just for a breath, maybe two, with the sky above and the wide hand below, and then you stand up by yourself, grinning. 'So, little one,' Growy asks, one ear still folded, 'did we grow a little today?' You did. 'Here is your little grow for tomorrow,' says Growy. 'At the next bath, lie back and let the water hold your head, for one whole breath.' See you tomorrow, little one.