Once upon a time, in a cozy house tucked amongst soft hills, lived a little knee. This knee was a very happy knee, usually busy with running, jumping, and climbing. It loved adventures and hardly ever stopped moving. But one sunny afternoon, while exploring the garden, the little knee met something hard and unyielding. It resulted in a small, round, slightly purple visitor: a little bump.
The little bump settled right on the knee cap. At first, it felt a bit surprised, then a little warm and tingly. It wasn't a big, scary bump, but a small, polite bump that just made the knee feel a bit sensitive. The little knee felt a bit grumpy. "Oh dear," thought the knee, "I can't run and jump quite as fast with you here, little bump."
The little bump didn't say anything, but it felt the knee's disappointment. It wished it could help, but bumps just need time. A grown-up came and looked at the little bump. They were very gentle and said, "Ah, a little visitor. We'll give it some time and comfort, and it will soon be on its way."
The grown-up brought a soft, cool cloth and placed it gently over the bump. Oh, that felt nice! Like a cool, soothing sigh. The little bump felt calmer, and the knee felt less bothered. The grown-up explained that the bump was just sorting things out inside, making sure everything was okay. It needed a little rest and patience.
Patience? The little knee wasn't very good at patience. It wanted to be back to running and jumping *right now*. But the grown-up encouraged the knee and the bump to rest. They sat quietly, and the knee noticed other things – the gentle rustle of leaves outside, the quiet tick-tock of a clock, the soft weight of a favorite blanket.
Each day, the little bump changed just a tiny bit. Its purple colour started to fade, becoming more like a soft blue-green, like the shallow part of a calm ocean. The warmth lessened, and the tingly feeling became less noticeable. The knee still felt the bump there, but it didn't feel quite so sensitive. It was a slow change, like watching a flower open petal by petal.
The grown-up continued to be gentle, sometimes rubbing a special soothing cream nearby (not right on the bump, just around it) or just giving the knee a kind pat. They reminded the knee that healing takes time, just like growing taller or waiting for your birthday. Every day that passed was a day closer to the bump saying goodbye.
The little bump was also learning patience. It was doing its important work quietly, underneath the skin, tidying everything up. It realised that being a bump wasn't about causing trouble, but about helping the knee get strong again after its surprise meeting with the hard ground. It felt proud of its job, even if it was a quiet, slow one.
After several quiet days and nights, the little knee woke up and noticed something wonderful. The little bump was barely there! It was now a pale yellow colour, almost the same colour as the surrounding skin. It didn't feel warm or tingly at all. The knee could move and stretch, and the bump didn't mind one bit.
The little bump had finished its work. It had been patient, and so had the knee (mostly!). The knee was ready for adventures again, and the bump was ready to fade away completely. The little knee felt so happy and grateful. It had learned that even small, unexpected visitors like a bump just need time, kindness, and a little bit of patience to feel better again. And with that happy thought, the little knee and its almost-gone bump settled down for a peaceful night's sleep, dreaming of happy jumps tomorrow.