No sugarcoating. No fibs. Not even the little ones grown-ups call ‘harmless.’ Tiny little Anya, four years old, wild blonde curls dancing in the sunlight when she ran. When adults looked her in the eye, they could see something missing in most people – honest, heartfelt emotions.

At Happy Trails Daycare, Anya’s preschool, all the kids loved to share stories. Milo swore he’d flown in a rocket ship to the moon. Jess, a fiery redhead with freckles dotting her cheeks, claimed her golden doodle spoke to her about his adventures in the backyard. Even Ms. Tana played along, inventing silly stories – just to keep her kiddos smiling.

Then came “Story Day.” Ms. Tana thought that a new tradition of having each child speak to others in front of the class would be a fun experience. Ms. Tana even made a glittery crown and a special certificate that would hang on the wall, showing every visitor to the daycare whose child had the most exciting adventure.  

Anya’s big brothers, always ready to help their baby sister, suggested several different ideas.

“Ooh! You could talk about that time you wrestled a bear!” Peter shouted.

“It wasn’t a bear,” Anya corrected, “it was Mr. Pickles,” Anya’s stuffed bunny. “And I was trying to rescue it from Pretzel.”

“What about that time you found a treasure in the backyard?” James chimed in. “You DID do that.”

“Not exactly a treasure,” she rolled her eyes. “Just a necklace that I left in the playhouse. I found it after leaving it outside. Not exactly treasure in the backyard. Besides. I don’t want to tell a fake story.”

Ms. Tana, excited to hear the children’s stories, let Milo go first. He talked about flying on a dragon, and several of the girls oooed about his flight. Then Jess told a story about finding a secret door hidden between the shelves in the library. Jess was too scared to walk through, but she insisted it was there. All the children clapped, giggling about Milo’s description of the flying dragon.

Anya’s turn was next. She stood, clutching Mr. Pickles. “I want to tell you about the time I helped Mrs. Gentry find her cat, Scribbles.”

Anya spent the afternoon with Mrs. Gentry, their next-door neighbor, searching under cars and in bushes. Twenty minutes later, they found Scribbles napping under an SUV four houses down from Anya’s. Scribbles, panicked at first. Then she listened to Anya’s small, tinny voice. That’s what coaxed Scribbles out from under the car – that and a treat Mrs. Gentry gave Anya. Her story had no dragons. No magic. Not a secret door. Just kind words, a cat treat, and a helpful spirit.

No one clapped; the room was quiet. Ms. Tana smiled, stood up, and placed the crown atop Anya’s head. “Sometimes truth is more magical than make-believe.”

That night, Anya’s mom kissed her forehead. “You were so brave today.”

“I just told the truth, mama.”

“Sometimes, kiddo, that’s the bravest thing of all.”

If you believe integrity starts young, share Anya’s story with someone who needs a reminder that truth—plain and simple—still shines the brightest. Whether you’re raising little humans or leading big teams, let honesty lead the way. 💛 Tag a parent, teacher, or mentor who’s raising truth-tellers. #TruthMatters #RaisingIntegrity #RealOverPerfect