Finding My Balance

The carpet beneath my feet felt soft and deep. I stood still for a long moment, listening to the quiet room. Slowly, I shifted my weight forward. My wooden legs held firm. Nearby sat a small, striped paper cone resting on the floor. I took two deliberate, tiny steps toward it, reached out my wooden arm, and gently tapped its pointed side. It wobbled slightly, then settled back into place. My feet stayed firmly planted. I am here, standing tall.