It was a crisp and sunny Autumn morning, perfect for a hike through the Wild Briar Woods. Tiny packed a flask of tea and a fairycake, and hummed as she crinch-crunched over the golden carpet of leaves. Before long, she was not only lost in her thoughts, but completely lost in the woods.
A splosh of rain brought her to her senses; she had wandered into the deepest quarter of the Wild Briar Wood, where the skies were dark and still and cried endless tears of rain. Around her, dozen of miniature tree-houses perched in the branches. Tiny’s heartbeat quickened, and a small seed of worry took root in her brain.
“Hello, can I help you?” called a voice from above. It was coming from the smallest rag-doll she had ever seen, with delicately embroidered eyes and wearing a flowery pinafore-dress. “I think I might be lost,” mumbled Tiny, and the seed of doubt sprouted leaves.
“Welcome to the valley of the worry dolls!” Said the doll brightly, “I’m Peg, and there’s Meg, Greg and Ced-ric.” A cluster of worry dolls waved cheerily from a neighboring treehouse. “This is our Central Worry Treatment Plant,” said Peg with a note of pride. “We collect worries by night and process them in our tree-houses, where they are converted into rain. Let me show you.”
Tiny looked up to see Peg reach out and grab a black thread stretching from the top of Tiny’s head, high into the sky. The thread disappeared into the cabin which gurgled, spluttered and spewed out a shower of water. “It’s good to catch them when they’re young, before they move into your face for good! Here, I’ll show you the way out.” Peg floated down from the balcony, and taking Tiny by the hand, lead her gently back to the forest path. Tiny was astonished to find her worries had gone, replaced with a wonderful sense of calm.
“Thank you Peg!” she called back.
“No worries, Tiny!” replied the doll with a wink.