The little girl ran through the lush, green field, giggling and plucking flowers from the ground. She had a tube of bubbles in her right hand, and was blowing them as she sat and gazed up at the blue sky.
'I wonder what they're made of?' She thought. She tried to think if she'd read about it, when a familiar voice called out to her.
"Samantha, I've been looking for you everywhere. You didn't tell me you were going outside."
"I'm sorry mama, I wanted to play." She smiled, and her mother suppressed an amused chuckle. She was holding two-year-old Mark in her lap, who was playing with her hair quietly.
"Mama, what are bubbles made of?"
Debra Carter didn't know how to answer.
Sam walked up to her brother, and smiled, handing him the bubble wand. He examined it, then handed it back and hid behind his mother.
She continued to blow her bubbles, and watched as they floated through the air. She followed them all the way to a tree in their backyard.
She stopped. "Do you think it's possible?" She asked.
"Do I think what's possible, dear?"
"Do you think it's possible that I could climb that tree?"
"I think you could." Her mother replied.
"If I step on the big branches instead of the little branches, they can hold me up. There are more big branches than little branches."
"You can try if you want to, just be careful. I'll watch you."
So Sam began to climb, grabbing for a branch to pull herself up, and sticking her feet in the right places. She looked down a few times, and her legs got wobbly, but she continued her climb, determined to make it to the top. She wasn't paying attention once, and a branch broke, but her mother continued to watch. "I know you can do it, baby. Keep trying." So she tried again, getting farther and farther each time. A gust of wind blew and Samantha gripped onto the tree, shaking. The leaves on the tree were pretty, and when they got caught in the wind, it sounded like rain. Then she realized, it really was raining.
"Momma! I can't get down! I'll slip!" She squealed.
"You're alright. Just come down slowly." her mother ran to go get her father, as she crept slowly down from the tree. She ran towards the house and tried not to slip; she ran into her father's arms as they walked into the little house.