Chamroeun backward To The Floor C-r-y Out Loud When Minea P-ush Him

Chamroeun Backward To The Floor C-r-y Out Loud When Minea P-ush Him 😢💔

It was a sunny afternoon, and the kids were playing happily in the yard. The breeze was light, laughter filled the air, and everyone was getting along—until Minea decided things weren’t going her way.

Chamroeun, the quiet and gentle one, was building a little tower out of toy blocks by the garden steps. He wasn’t bothering anyone, just focused and smiling proudly as his tower grew taller and taller. A few of the other kids watched and clapped, impressed by his careful stacking.

But Minea? She wasn’t clapping. She was frowning.

She had wanted to build first. She had told everyone earlier that she had the best tower design. But they had all wandered over to Chamroeun instead, excited by how neatly his tower was rising. Jealousy bubbled up inside her like a shaken soda can.

And before anyone could stop her, WHAM!

Minea marched over, gave Chamroeun a big scowl, and with both hands—PUSHED.

“AHHHHH!” Chamroeun cried out as he fell backward to the ground with a loud thud.

His little body hit the dirt, and his tower came crashing down beside him. His lip trembled, his face turned red, and then—he cried. Loud. Big tears, full of shock and hurt, poured down his cheeks.

“CHAMROEUN!” Bibi yelled, running over to help him up.

Minea stepped back, suddenly realizing what she’d done. She looked at her hands, then at Chamroeun, then at the mess of blocks around them.

“Minea, why would you do that?!” Lala scolded, hands on her hips.

“I—I didn’t mean to push that hard,” Minea said, her voice small now.

Mom came rushing from the kitchen after hearing the loud cries. “What happened?”

Bibi pointed. “Minea pushed him! He didn’t even do anything wrong!”

Chamroeun sat in Mom’s lap now, sniffling while she gently wiped the dirt from his shirt and kissed his forehead.

Minea stood there, suddenly quiet and full of guilt. She hadn’t meant to make him cry like that. She just wanted attention… but not this kind.

“I’m sorry, Chamroeun,” she whispered, eyes down.

Mom gave her a look. “Saying sorry is good. But next time, use your words—not your hands.”

Minea nodded slowly.

The tower could be rebuilt—but feelings? Those needed extra care.