✨ The Case of the Missing Scissors:Bennie

Miss Lemon was giving out stars with her mouth but warning bells with her eyes. Bennie pressed his paw against the desk. He’d been around long enough to know: the loudest signal from a person wasn’t always the one they spoke. Her super-sharp competition scissors were missing, the ones no student was ever to touch, and though her words stayed calm, her eyes said everything. Bennie wanted to fix it—he always did—but Loulou nudged his paw.

“Don’t swallow it,” she whispered. “The upsetness isn’t ours.”

He could feel how much those missing scissors mattered. Loulou was already sketching a tiny star on her paper, careful and steady. She held it up between them, a little crooked but glowing faintly.

“See? We can still have a good day. Even if someone else doesn’t. But shouldn’t we help her?”

“If your head is clear and all sadness is in the right spot, then sure,” Loulou said. “We can look around for the missing scissors.”

It was the end of the day and they still hadn’t found them. Bennie took one of the stars he had gotten from Miss Lemon and pressed it next to Loulou’s. Together they made a whole bright star, glowing stronger than one alone. Bennie understood something new: even if an adult is angry, his day could still shine.

Dessert of the Day

That evening, the kittens shared lemon tarts—golden crusts with bright, tangy centers. Their whiskers twitched at the sharpness, but the sweetness underneath made them smile. “Like Miss Lemon,” Benny thought. “Sharp, but still good.”

Imagination of the Day

Imagine you’re looking for something that’s gone missing. Where would you search first? Under a cushion? Behind a curtain? In the pocket you forgot you had? What if the scissors could hide anywhere—even in a place no one expects? Close your eyes and think: where would I look?