
Hi, little one. Today your friend Grow takes you to a sunny garden where the food grows in every color: red berries, green peas, orange carrots, purple plums. A whole rainbow, ready to meet. A little squirrel sits nearby, nibbling the one same nut it always eats. 'New food? Easy,' says Grow, and reaches for the biggest red berry. 'You just take a big bite, and done!'

Grow bites straight into a huge piece, without even looking or smelling it first. 'YUCK!' Grow yelps, scrunching up its whole face. 'Weird! Awful! Never again!' The squirrel jumps in surprise. You just stare. That does not look like a great recommendation.

'I'll do it differently,' you say. 'First I'll just say hello.' You look at the berry, smell it, touch it with the tip of your finger. You do not rush. The squirrel leans in, curious, watching what you do.

Then you try the tiniest possible bite, of the very same berry Grow judged so quickly. It is not weird. It is not awful. It is just sweet, and a little bit tart. 'Grow,' you say, 'it wasn't weird. You just bit too fast.' Grow blinks. 'Maybe I did.' The squirrel gathers its courage, tries a pea in one small bite, and its eyes go wide.

Your plate looks like a rainbow now, not because everything is eaten, but because you know how to say hello, your own way, at your own pace. Then Grow asks, 'So, little one... did we grow a little today?' You did. 'Here is your little grow for tomorrow,' says Grow. 'Say hello to one new food tomorrow. Just a look, a sniff, or a tiny lick, no rushing.' See you then, little one.
