Bun Brings the Morning Page

Bun was a small round hedgehog with a little wooden cart. She was the courier of the market street. Every single morning, Bun rolled her cart up to your table and brought just one page — today’s page. Not a whole heavy book. One page, one morning.

Once, a puppy asked Bun to bring the whole stack at once — a giant pile of pages, all today! Bun shook her head kindly. “A big pile feels heavy,” she said. “Nobody finishes a mountain. But one little page? That we can do. And tomorrow there’s another.” Small and often, said Bun, is the gentle way.

Bun liked to come at the same cozy time — after breakfast, by the sunny window. Same little time, same little wave of her paw. Soon your body just knew: oh, this is our page time. The rhythm felt safe, like a song you already know how to hum.

One busy morning, everyone forgot the page. No page got done! But Bun did not scold, and she did not let the pages pile into a scary heap. The next morning she simply rolled up her cart and brought one page again. The rhythm picked right back up, like nothing was ever wrong.

That is Bun’s whole secret. One little page, together, each morning. Not fast. Not big. Just you and your grown-up and today’s page — and the happy little knowing that Bun will roll up again tomorrow, with one more.