The Velvet Cradle of Everwood – Chapter Eleven – The Little Parade
The first light of morning filtered through the soft curtains of Cradle Cottage, bathing the nursery in a gentle golden glow. Outside, birds chirped happily among the trees, and somewhere in the distance, a flute played a light melody that drifted on the wind like bubbles. Eliot stirred beneath his cozy quilt, his bunny plush tucked beneath his chin, and a faint crinkle met his ears as he shifted.
He blinked blearily, still clinging to the warmth of sleep, when the familiar scent of lavender and honey reached him — followed by the soft footfalls of Liora’s slippers on the nursery floor.
“Good morning, sleepy sprout,” her voice sang, warm and lilting.
She leaned over the crib, her soft curls falling over her shoulder as she looked down at him with bright, kind eyes. “Today’s a special day, little one,” she said as she lowered the crib rail with a quiet click. “It’s the Day of the Little Parade.”
Eliot’s eyes opened wider. He had heard whispers about it — stories from other littles and the older caretakers in the village square. But it had always seemed so far away, like a dream meant for someone else.
“Parade?” he murmured, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands.
Liora scooped him up into her arms, nestling him against her chest. “Mmhmm,” she said, nuzzling his hair. “Every season, the village honors the littles — all of you who’ve found safety and sweetness again. You’ll get dressed in your finest outfit, and we’ll walk through the village while everyone claps and celebrates. There’ll be music, snacks, friends… even puppet shows.”
His heart fluttered in a funny way. Part excitement. Part nerves. But mostly warmth. Liora’s words wrapped around him like a blanket, safe and steady.
The morning routine began — as always — with a fresh diaper change. Liora laid Eliot gently on his padded changing mat, humming as she unsnapped his sleeper. He squirmed a little, cheeks coloring as she lifted his legs and wiped him down with a warm cloth. But it wasn’t embarrassment, not really. It was more a fuzzy bashfulness, the kind that made him want to hide his face in his bunny plush and peek out through his fingers.
“There we are,” Liora cooed, unfolding a thick daytime diaper covered in soft illustrations of hot air balloons and clouds. “Can’t have my little bunny leaking during the parade, can we?”
He made a small sound of protest, but she only chuckled and sprinkled a touch of powder before taping him up snug and secure. “Perfect,” she said, giving the front a gentle pat. “All set for your big day.”
Then came the outfit — a pale blue romper with tiny silver stitching around the collar and puffy short sleeves. Matching white knee socks were rolled carefully up his legs, and finally, Liora tied a soft bonnet under his chin. It framed his flushed cheeks and made his eyes look even bigger.
He stared down at himself in the nursery mirror, tugging shyly at the hem of his romper.
“I look like… a real little,” he said softly.
Liora crouched beside him, gently tucking a curl behind his ear. “That’s because you are, sweetheart. And today is your day to shine.”
Breakfast was warm and comforting — a bowl of cinnamon porridge with berries, and then a big bottle of milk that Liora cradled him in her arms to feed. He was too big for some parts of this, he knew. But Everwood didn’t care. Liora didn’t care. And when her hand gently rubbed his back as he suckled, Eliot let himself relax entirely into her.
By the time he was dressed, fed, and burped, Liora packed a small woven basket with snacks, wipes, and a few essentials. Then she lifted him into the sling carrier across her chest — his favorite spot. The gentle sway of her stride, the way her hand rested protectively across his back, the soft floral scent of her dress — it made everything feel okay.
The village square was already buzzing with activity when they arrived. Eliot gasped softly as he looked around. Caretakers bustled about with their littles — some toddled on their own, holding their grown-up’s hands with unsteady steps; others rode in prams or were carried like Eliot.
And oh, the outfits!
One little girl wore a tutu made of sparkling leaves, her hair in bouncing pigtails tied with ribbons. A boy toddled past in dragon-scale footies, with tiny plush wings on his back. A few littles wore only diapers and sashes that read “Bravest Baby” or “Snuggle Champion”.
It was loud, colorful, and filled with the soft tinkling of bells, chimes, and laughter.
Eliot clung a little tighter to Liora, his thumb slipping toward his mouth before she gently nudged his pacifier in instead. “Feeling a little overwhelmed?” she asked, her voice just for him.
He nodded.
“That’s okay,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’ve got you.”
When the parade began, a flute and lyre ensemble played a whimsical march, and caretakers lined up with their littles at the front gate of the square. Eliot felt his heart pound — but not with fear. With the kind of nervous joy that comes from being seen.
Liora hoisted him gently into a cradle carry, nestling his bunny into one arm and resting his bonneted head on her shoulder. “Let’s go show the world how special you are.”
He nodded, his pacifier bobbing as they joined the line.
The parade wound slowly through Everwood, passing shops and gardens, lantern poles, and villagers waving from their porches. Confetti made of flower petals drifted gently in the breeze. Bells chimed from hanging streamers above.
Eliot peeked out over Liora’s shoulder to see people smiling and clapping.
“Oh look at that one!” someone cooed.
“So precious — is that Liora’s little one?”
“I love his romper! And that bunny!”
Eliot’s face turned the color of strawberries, and he buried it in Liora’s collar. But she just chuckled softly and rubbed his back.
“They’re smiling because they see how loved you are,” she said. “How safe. That’s something to celebrate, sweet pea.”
They paused near a wooden bridge where a group of caretakers spread picnic blankets for a rest. Eliot was laid gently onto a thick blanket with a padded layer beneath, and Liora offered him slices of pear and a small sippy cup of berry juice.
Other littles toddled up curiously, their caretakers close behind.
One, a curly-haired boy in green shortalls, waddled over holding a plush turtle. “Mine’s named Wobble,” he lisped proudly.
Eliot held up his bunny. “This is Hop.”
They exchanged a shy giggle, and soon a small circle of littles had gathered. For the first time since arriving in Everwood, Eliot didn’t feel alone in his softness. These other boys and girls weren’t pretending. They were littles — proudly, comfortably.
A few of the caretakers exchanged smiles, stepping back to let their littles bond while always keeping a watchful eye.
Later, the parade route wound past the enchanted fountain where the puppet show awaited. Eliot sat on Liora’s lap, pacifier in, bunny clutched, as the puppet curtain rose.
Magical threads brought tiny creatures to life — a baby dragon learning to make friends, a sleepy raccoon who needed help remembering his bedtime routine, a shy bear who found courage in cuddles.
The puppets sang, danced, and made silly mistakes, and Eliot laughed out loud, clapping excitedly.
Liora hugged him close, nuzzling his cheek. “There’s my giggly boy.”
His laughter turned into a yawn as the show ended, and the last leg of the parade took them slowly back to Cradle Cottage.
Back home, Eliot was barely awake. His bonnet had been removed. His romper hung loose. His pacifier remained firmly in place as Liora carried him into the nursery.
He murmured faintly when she laid him on the changing table.
“I know, sweet pea,” she whispered, gently unsnapping his romper. “Just a quick change into your sleepy clouds, and then off to dreamland.”
She cleaned him tenderly and taped him into a thick nighttime diaper decorated with floating stars and moons.
Then came his softest footie pajamas — pale lavender with clouds on the toes — and finally, a few drops of sleepy herb essence on his paci.
Liora lifted him into the rocking chair first, cradling him close and singing a quiet lullaby. Eliot’s eyes fluttered, his fingers curled around hers.
“You did so well today,” she murmured. “My brave little bunny.”
She tucked him into his crib, pulled the blankets up to his chin, and set Hop the bunny beside him.
The enchanted mobile overhead spun slowly, casting starlight patterns across the ceiling.
As the last verse of the lullaby faded, Liora leaned down to kiss his forehead.
“Sleep well, parade prince,” she whispered. “Tomorrow will be even cozier.”
Eliot, warm and worn out, smiled behind his pacifier as his eyes closed completely. His dreams were full of ribbons, puppet dragons, gentle hands, and flower petals falling like snow.
The End of The Velvet Cradle of Everwood – Chapter Eleven – The Little Parade
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