Lori counted to ten, then to twenty, then to thirty.

It was his best hiding spot ever: behind the big sofa, squeezed into the space between the backrest and the wall, with a cushion over his head. No one would ever find him there.

He could hear Alex's footsteps searching in the kitchen. "Lori? Looori?" He could hear Violet opening the cupboards in the hallway. He could hear Ella checking behind the curtains.

No one was finding him.

Lori smiled. He was winning.

A minute passed. Then two. Then five.

The smile grew smaller.

It was nice to win, but behind the sofa it was dark and cramped. And quiet. And after a while, winning alone wasn't really that fun.

"Here I am," said Lori, coming out. "I was here."

"But we hadn't finished looking yet!" said Alex.

Lori shrugged. "I got bored."

But it wasn't true. The truth was something else, a small soft thing that sat in his chest, and that Lori didn't know what to call.

At that moment a sound was heard.

CHUFF CHUFF! CHUFF CHUFF!

From the garden came a scent of moss, wet leaves and fresh earth. Toby the Magic Train appeared from behind the hedge with wheels shiny from rain and a whistle softer than usual, like a sigh.

"Toby!" The four children ran outside.

Toby the Magic Train stopped in front of them and with his little voice said:

"Hello children, can you feel that breeze?
I'll take you where each step flows with ease!
A path awaits with voices and hues so bright,
but courage is needed to bring hearts to light!"

The children climbed aboard. Toby departed among the low clouds and the scent of rain.

When the little doors opened, they found themselves at the foot of a mountain. Before them a narrow path began, climbing between very tall trees. The leaves whispered even though there was no strong wind. Actually, there was a very light wind, just barely, that seemed to speak.

"How strange," said Ella, tilting her head. "It sounds like the wind is saying something."

"Come on," said Lori. "It's just wind."

A few steps further on they found someone.

A tortoise. Big, old, with a shell full of scratches and cracks from all the journeys she had made. She was stopped at the edge of the path, but not exactly stopped: she was walking in circles, very slowly, always in the same spot. She would take three steps forward, then turn, then go back, then turn again.

"Hello," said Alex. "Are you okay?"

The tortoise raised her head. She had big, tired eyes.

"I need to get back to my island," she said in a faint voice. "But I can't remember the way anymore. Every time I choose a direction, the wind tells me something and I... change my mind."

"What does the wind tell you?" asked Violet.

At that moment the wind whispered, clear as a light little voice: "You're sad, Gaia."

The tortoise shook her head: "That's not true! I'm not sad!" And she turned around on herself again.

"My name is Gaia," said the tortoise. "And I've been walking in circles for three days."

"We'll help you!" said Lori. And he ran off up the path, super fast, like he always did. The wind blew in his ears: "You have something inside that you don't want to say..." But Lori ran faster, ignoring it.

Ten seconds later he was back at the starting point. In front of Gaia.

"But... how?" Lori looked around, confused.

Violet clenched her fists. "I'll try." And she marched forward, straight and determined. The wind whispered to her: "You're worried, Violet." She replied: "No, no. I'm strong." And she kept marching.

Ten steps. Twenty. And then... she was back in front of Gaia.

"Impossible!" said Violet.

Alex tried with a pirouette and a joke: "Hey wind, you don't scare me! Ahahah!" The wind whispered: "Sometimes you laugh so you don't cry, Alex." Alex laughed even louder and went forward acting like a clown.

And he came back to the starting point.

Silence.

Ella, who hadn't moved, sat down on a flat rock. She closed her eyes. She listened.

The wind whispered to her, very sweetly: "You miss your grandmother, don't you?"

Ella stayed silent for a moment. Then she opened her eyes and said, softly: "Yes. I miss my grandmother so much."

Under her feet, the path lit up. A warm, golden light, that went forward like a luminous strip.

"Look!" said Alex.

Ella got up and took a step. The path stayed. Another step. Still forward.

"It worked!" said Violet. "But how?"

Ella turned around and said, simply: "The wind told me something I really felt. And I said yes to it."

The children looked at each other. They understood.

They started climbing again, this time listening to the wind.

"Violet," the wind whispered. "You're afraid of not being good enough."

Violet stopped. She pressed her lips together. Then she said, in a low voice: "Yes. Sometimes I'm afraid of making mistakes." The path lit up beneath her.

"Alex," the wind whispered. "When you're worried you act like a clown."

Alex stopped laughing. He sat down for a moment. Then he said: "It's true. Sometimes I make jokes because I don't want to think about the things that make me feel bad." The path lit up.

Gaia followed them, slow, one step at a time, watching the children with eyes that grew wider and wider.

They arrived at the bridge.

It was a narrow bridge, made of old wood, over a stream that flowed below. It wasn't very high, but it was narrow, and the wood creaked.

Lori took a step. The bridge trembled.

Another step. The wind blew stronger. "Lori," it whispered. "You're afraid."

"No!" said Lori, very fast. The bridge trembled more. The wooden planks vibrated.

Lori froze in the middle. He couldn't go forward. He couldn't go back. His hands were shaking.

Alex approached the edge of the bridge and reached out his hand. "Lori."

Lori looked at Alex's hand. Then he looked down — no, don't look down. He looked at Alex.

"It's okay to be afraid," said Alex. "I'm afraid sometimes too."

Lori felt his eyes burning. That thing in his chest, that small soft thing he had felt behind the sofa, was now big and warm.

"I'm afraid," said Lori. Softly. As if it were the first time he had said those words.

The bridge stopped trembling. The planks became steady. Lori took Alex's hand and crossed, one step at a time, slowly. For the first time in his life, Lori went slowly. And that was okay.

At the top of the path there was a cave. The entrance was covered with green moss and in front of the cave, curled up behind a rock, there was a tiny creature.

A white ermine, with black shiny eyes and a pointy little snout. It was curled up on itself like a little snowball. Its fur, white as milk, had a pink tint on its ears and little paws.

The children approached quietly.

"Hello," said Ella, with her soft voice.

The ermine opened one eye. Then closed it right away and curled up even more.

"His name is Snowflake," whispered the wind. "He's the guardian of the cave. But he's very shy."

"Snowflake?" said Violet. "How do we get into the cave?"

Snowflake opened one eye. He opened his mouth as if to say something. But no sound came out. He covered his little snout with his paws. His fur turned even more pink.

Lori knelt down. Slowly. Without running, without hurrying. He got down to Snowflake's level and said, with a voice he didn't even know he had — sweet, calm, patient:

"It's okay to be shy, Snowflake. You don't have to talk. But if you want to say something, we're here. And we're listening."

Snowflake looked at him. His little black eyes were shining. He was still trembling. But slowly he opened his mouth and with a thread of a voice, so thin it sounded like the rustle of a leaf, he said:

"I... I'm afraid to speak."

His fur turned golden. Just for a moment, like a flash of sunlight. Then it turned white again, but a luminous, warm white.

And the cave opened.

Inside it was beautiful. The walls sparkled with crystals that reflected light in a thousand colours. And in the centre, on the smooth floor, there was a map. A map made of shells, pebbles and leaves, showing roads, seas and islands.

But the map was dark.

"Gaia," said Ella. "This is your map. But you have to ask for the way yourself."

Gaia entered the cave, very slowly. She looked at the map. She looked at the children. She looked at Snowflake, who was now close to her, still trembling but present.

Gaia opened her mouth. Then closed it. She retreated a little into her shell.

The wind entered the cave, very lightly, and whispered: "You can say it, Gaia."

And Gaia, with a broken but clear voice, said:

"I'm sad. I'm sad because I've been far from home for so long. And I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll never go back. And I miss... I miss my island, I miss the sound of the waves, I miss the warm sand."

Little tortoise tears rolled down her ancient face.

The map lit up. The shells sparkled, the pebbles glowed, and a clear, luminous path appeared among the lines: it started from the cave and reached a green island, distant but visible.

Gaia smiled. For the first time in three days, she smiled.

At that moment they came out of the cave and saw the sky.

The rain had ended. The clouds had parted. And in the sky, from one side of the mountain to the other, stretched an enormous rainbow.

But it wasn't just any rainbow.

Its colours pulsed, each with a different rhythm, like a heartbeat. The red pulsed when Violet looked at it — the colour of strength that is born even from fear. The blue pulsed when Gaia raised her eyes — the colour of sadness that had finally found its voice. The pink shone when Snowflake lifted his little snout — the colour of shyness that is a form of gentleness. The yellow lit up when Alex smiled — the colour of joy that doesn't have to hide anything else. And the green... the green pulsed when Lori looked at it, with eyes still a little shiny — the colour of the courage to say how you feel.

"The way," said Gaia, looking at the rainbow. "Now I can see it."

She began to walk. Slow, as always. But straight. For the first time in three days, Gaia wasn't walking in circles.

Toby the Magic Train whistled softly. The children waved goodbye to Gaia, who turned one last time and said: "Thank you. You taught me that tears don't take away the path. They wash it, and you can see it better."

They said goodbye to Snowflake, who gave a small trembling bow and whispered: "Come back... whenever you want." His fur was golden.

Toby the Magic Train came close to the children and with his little voice said:

"You opened the cave and your heart so wide,
and named every sorrow you carried inside!
Who listens to the wind and speaks what is true
finds the path that was waiting just for you!"

The journey home was quiet and sweet. The stars were beginning to light up in the sky and the rainbow, slowly, melted into the evening.

When they arrived home, it was almost dark. The house was warm and smelled of dinner.

Lori went to the living room. He sat behind the sofa, in the same spot where he had hidden before. But this time not to win at hide and seek.

He sat, closed his eyes, and listened to that small soft thing in his chest.

"I felt lonely," he said, softly, to no one in particular. Or maybe to himself.

Then he came out, went to the kitchen where the others were already sitting, and said: "Hey. Shall we play something? But all together, this time."

And as he sat down at the table, for the briefest instant, he thought he felt a very light wind whispering to him: "Well done."