Raphael and Ella: The Given

A Children’s Story About Entitlement, Humility, and Earning Your Place

The Playground Conversation

It was break time. Ella found Raphael sitting on the low wall by the sports hall, staring at nothing. His bag was on the ground. His shoulders were down.

“Raphael,” she said, sitting beside him. “What’s happened?”

Raphael didn’t answer straight away. Then he said, “I’ve been dropped from football. And rugby.”

Ella’s mouth opened. “Both? Why?”

“Attitude. Low level. Missing training.” He counted them off like they were someone else’s crimes. “Mr. Robertson said I’ve been ‘coasting on talent.’ Coach Kigali said my head’s not in it.”

“But you love rugby,” Ella said. “You were the best tackler in Year 8.”

“I know,” Raphael said bitterly. “That’s what I told them.”

Ella was quiet for a moment. Then she asked, “What happened this week, Raphael? Start from the beginning.”

The Phone

So Raphael started from the beginning.

“On Sunday, I asked Mum about the phone. I said, ‘So can I have it on Tuesdays and Thursdays now? Since I’ve earned trust back?'”

Ella nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”

“She said no.”

“Did she say why?”

Raphael looked away. “She said the phone isn’t a given. She said I don’t get it because I’ve earned it — I get it because she and Dad decide when it’s appropriate. And that I’d been doing well, but it doesn’t turn into a rule.”

Ella nodded slowly. “So she was saying the phone is a privilege, not a right.”

“Yeah, well.” Raphael shrugged. “It felt like she was taking it back. Like none of my effort counted.”

“And how did you respond?”

Raphael was quiet.

“You sulked, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t sulk,” Raphael said. “I just… I didn’t talk to them. On Monday morning I came down, ate, and left. No ‘good morning.’ No hug. Usually Dad gives me the pep talk before school — ‘big day, head up, do your best.’ He didn’t. He just watched me leave.”

Ella winced. “That must have felt horrible for him too.”

“I didn’t care at the time,” Raphael admitted.

The Low Level

“And then what?” Ella asked.

“Assembly ran over. I came back to class late. Mr. Tillie gave me a low level.”

“Was it your first one?”

“No. Dad had warned me about it weeks ago. He said, ‘Raphael, you’ve had two lates this term. Don’t get a third — it’ll go on your record.'”

“And you got a third.”

“I got a third,” Raphael said. “And when Dad found out, he was really upset. More than I’ve seen him in ages. He said it wasn’t about being late. It was that he’d told me, I’d ignored him, and I didn’t seem to care.”

“Did you apologise?”

Raphael shook his head.

“Not even when he went quiet?”

“I thought he’d get over it,” Raphael said. “I thought he was overreacting.”

Ella looked at him for a long moment. “Raphael, can I say something? And will you actually listen?”

Raphael nodded.

What Ella Said

“You feel entitled.”

Raphael frowned. “Entitled to what?”

“To the phone. To your dad’s pep talk. To your place in the team. To being trusted.”

“But I earned those things!”

“Some of them,” Ella agreed. “And then you lost some of them. But here’s the thing — even the ones you’ve earned aren’t given. They’re kept. Every single day, by how you act.”

Raphael started to argue, but Ella kept going.

“Your mum didn’t say the phone was gone forever. She said it isn’t a given. That’s true. Nothing is. Not my place at the piano either — if I stopped practising, my teacher would drop me. Not my parents’ trust. Not yours.”

“That’s harsh,” Raphael muttered.

“It’s honest,” Ella said. “And here’s the harder part. When your dad went quiet, that was him being hurt. He wasn’t overreacting. He was waiting for you to say sorry. You didn’t. So he stopped taking you on the morning walk. He stopped the training sessions. And then the coaches dropped you — because if you don’t show up, mentally or physically, there’s no place for you.”

Raphael’s eyes stung. He stared at the ground.

“Nobody owes you your place, Raphael,” Ella said gently. “You have to keep earning it. That’s not unfair. That’s how it works.”

Raphael Goes Home

That evening, Raphael found his mum in the kitchen. He stood in the doorway for a moment.

“Mum?”

She turned. Her face was tired.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael said. “About Sunday. About the phone. You weren’t taking anything back. I just didn’t want to hear it.”

His mum put down the cloth she was holding.

“And I’m sorry for how I left on Monday,” he continued. “I was horrible. You didn’t deserve that.”

His mum’s eyes filled. She opened her arms. Raphael walked into them.

Then he found his dad in the garage.

“Dad.”

His dad looked up. He didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry about the low level. And about not apologising when you told me off. You weren’t overreacting. I was being… entitled.”

His dad’s expression changed. “Where did you get that word?”

“Ella.”

His dad almost smiled. “She’s a good friend.”

“She is.” Raphael took a breath. “Dad, can we go on the morning walk again? I miss it. Not just the training — the walk.”

His dad was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Tomorrow. 5:30. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

Facing the Coaches

The next day, Raphael went to Mr. Kigali first.

“Sir, I wanted to apologise. I’ve been coasting. I haven’t been putting in the work, and I blamed everyone else for it.”

Mr. Kigali studied him. “Why should I put you back in the squad?”

“Because I’ll train properly. Every session. And if I don’t, you can drop me again — and I won’t argue.”

Mr. Kigali nodded slowly. “Come to training Thursday. Not the squad — just training. Show me.”

Then Raphael found Coach Robertson.

“Sir. I’m sorry. I didn’t show up mentally for the last few weeks. It won’t happen again.”

Coach Robertson folded his arms. “Words are cheap, Raphael.”

“I know, Sir. That’s why I’m asking you to watch me.”

The Comeback

Raphael trained like he’d never trained before.

He arrived early. He stayed late. He did the drills he hated — the ones on his weaker side. He didn’t argue when the coaches corrected him. He didn’t sigh. He didn’t roll his eyes.

His dad woke him up in the morning Sometimes before his alarm and then walked with him every morning at 5:30.
His dad would say, “reflect on being a better version of yourself.”

Slowly, his name came back onto the team sheet.

Then came the match against Taunton School. It was raining sideways. Raphael played the full eighty minutes. He made two try-saving tackles, scored once, and gave an assist.

At the end, the referee called him over.

“Man of the Match.”

The Interview

Afterward, a reporter from the school magazine held up a recorder.

“Raphael, brilliant performance. What changed for you?”

Raphael thought about the phone. About the pep talk he’d thrown away. About the low level. About the morning walks.

“Nothing was a given,” he said. “I thought it was. I thought I’d earned it, so it was mine. But you have to keep earning it. Every day.”

The reporter nodded. “And who helped you see that?”

“My friend Ella,” Raphael said. “And my mum and dad. And my coaches, when they were honest with me.”

“And your message to other young players?”

Raphael grinned. “Be humble. Say sorry. Do the work. And don’t wait for someone else to make the first move.”

Back at School

Ella was waiting at the gates on Monday morning. She has seen the score sheet on the school website

“Man of the Match,” she said, on citing Raphael coming off the KB coach.

“In the rain,” Raphael confirmed.

Ella smiled. “Now that’s the whole lesson.”

They walked into school together.

“So,” Ella said. “Do you have the phone today?”

Raphael laughed. “No. I asked Mum if I could have it today. She said no. I said, ‘Fair enough.'”

“Progress,” Ella said.

“Progress,” Raphael agreed.

What Raphael and Ella Learned About Entitlement:

Lesson and What It Means

  • Nothing is a given; Even things you’ve earned must be kept, daily
  • Privileges aren’t rights; Trust, a place in a team, and a phone are all decisions made by others
  • Silence can be hurt; When a parent goes quiet, they’re often waiting for an apology
  • Own your mistakes; Blaming others keeps you stuck
  • Apologise first; Don’t wait to be asked. Don’t wait to be chased.
  • Words are cheap; Apologies mean nothing without changed behaviour
  • Humility opens doors; Entitlement closes them
  • Do the work; No apology earns back a place — the work does
  • Don’t apologise to get a reward; Apologise because you were wrong

Raphael and Ella: The Trust Test

A Children’s Story About Earning Trust, Making Good Choices, and Second Chances

Lately, Raphael had been feeling frustrated. And Ella could tell. It was lunchtime. Ella found Raphael sitting alone on the bench, kicking at the grass with his shoe.

“Raphael, what’s wrong?” Ella asked, sitting beside him. “You’ve been grumpy all week.”

Raphael sighed. “My parents won’t let me have a phone.”

Ella raised her eyebrows. “But you had a phone last year. What happened?”

Raphael looked down. “They took it away.”

“Why?”

Raphael was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Because I broke their trust.”

Ella waited patiently.

“I visited social media websites when they told me not to,” Raphael admitted. “And… I sometimes took the phone from where they hid it. At night. When I was supposed to be sleeping.”

Ella nodded slowly. “That’s a big deal, Raphael. Your parents gave you a phone to keep you safe and to communicate with them. But you used it in ways they didn’t agree with.”

“I know,” Raphael said miserably. “And now they don’t trust me. They said I have to earn it back.”

The New Rules

“So what are the rules now?” Ella asked.

Raphael kicked at the grass again. “They said I can only have the phone on days I’m returning late from school without planned arrangements. Like if there’s a club or something unexpected. They want to make sure I can reach them—but only when it’s absolutely necessary.”

“That makes sense,” Ella said gently. “They’re trying to keep you safe while also giving you a chance to rebuild trust.”

“But it’s not fair!” Raphael complained. “All my friends have phones. They can text whenever they want. They can play games. They can go on social media. Why can’t I?”

Ella thought for a moment. “Raphael, can I tell you something about my phone?”

“Sure.”

Ella’s Story

“My parents gave me a phone last year,” Ella said. “But it has a lot of restrictions. I can’t access social media. I can only text and call my parents and a few approved friends. I have a time limit—one hour a day.”

Raphael’s eyes widened. “That sounds terrible.”

“Actually,” Ella said, “it’s not. Because my parents trust me now. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I followed the rules,” Ella said simply. “I didn’t try to sneak around them. I didn’t visit websites I wasn’t supposed to. I used my phone to communicate with my parents when I went out. I showed them I was responsible.”

Raphael frowned. “So you just… did what they said?”

“Yes,” Ella said. “And because I did, they relaxed. They know they can trust me. They don’t worry when I go out because they know I’ll answer their calls. They know I’ll come home on time. They know I’ll make good choices.”

Raphael stared at the ground. “My parents don’t feel that way about me.”

“Not yet,” Ella said. “But they want to. That’s why they’re giving you a chance—even if it’s just on late days. They’re testing you, Raphael. They want to see if you can be trusted again.”

The Test

That afternoon, Raphael walked home slowly. He thought about what Ella said. He thought about the times he had taken the phone from its hiding place. The times he had visited websites his parents told him not to. The times he had lied about it.

He felt ashamed.

When he got home, his mum was in the kitchen.

“Raphael,” she said, “I need to talk to you.”

Raphael’s stomach tightened. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” his mum said. “That’s the point. I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you for not arguing about the phone rules. I know it’s hard. I know you want what your friends have. But your dad and I are trying to help you learn to use technology responsibly.”

Raphael looked at her. “I’m sorry, Mum. For taking the phone. For going on those websites. For lying.”

His mum’s eyes softened. “I know you are, sweetheart. And we want to trust you again. But trust isn’t just words. It’s actions. It’s making good choices—even when no one is watching.”

“I understand,” Raphael said quietly.

The First Late Day

A few weeks later, Raphael had a football match after school. It would finish late, and his parents wouldn’t be able to pick him up. So they gave him the phone.

“Remember the rules,” his dad said. “Only call us. No games. No social media. No websites.”

Raphael nodded. “I understand.”

After the match, Raphael called his dad to let him know he was on his way home. Then he put the phone in his bag and didn’t touch it again.

When he got home, his dad was waiting.

“Raphael, I checked the phone history,” his dad said. “You only called me. You didn’t visit any websites. You didn’t play any games.”

Raphael held his breath. “Was that… okay?”

His dad smiled. “That was perfect. You did exactly what we asked. I’m proud of you.”

Raphael felt a warmth in his chest. It felt good to be trusted.

The Second Late Day

A week later, Raphael had another late day. Again, he was given the phone. Again, he only used it to call his parents.

After the third time, his mum said something surprising.

“Raphael, you’ve been doing really well. We’ve noticed. You’ve been responsible. You’ve followed the rules. So we’ve decided something.”

Raphael’s heart raced. “What?”

“We’re going to let you have the phone more often,” his mum said. “Not all the time. But more. Because you’ve earned our trust.”

Raphael’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” his mum said. “But remember—trust is fragile. It takes a long time to build and only a moment to break. Keep making good choices, and we’ll keep giving you more freedom.”

Back at School

At playtime, Raphael found Ella on the playground.

“Guess what?” he said, grinning. “My parents are letting me have the phone more often. They said I’ve earned their trust back.”

Ella smiled. “I knew you could do it.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Raphael admitted. “I wanted to play games. I wanted to visit websites. But I kept thinking about what you said—that trust is built through actions, not words.”

“Exactly,” Ella said. “And now you know. Trust isn’t given. It’s earned.”

Raphael nodded. “I also learned something else. When you break someone’s trust, it hurts them. And it hurts you too. Because you lose something important—the freedom to be trusted.”

Ella nodded. “That’s why it’s so important to make good choices. Even when no one is watching.”

Raphael looked at his friend. “Thank you, Ella. For helping me understand.”

Ella smiled. “That’s what friends are for.”

One Month Later

One month later, Raphael had earned even more trust. His parents allowed him to have the phone on weekends. They allowed him to text his friends. They even allowed him to download a few educational games.

“I’m proud of you, Raphael,” his dad said one evening. “You’ve shown real maturity.”

Raphael smiled. “I learned that trust is like a garden. You have to water it every day with good choices. And if you don’t, it dries up.”

His dad laughed. “That’s a great way to put it.”

Raphael looked at his phone. It wasn’t the latest model. It didn’t have all the apps his friends had. But it represented something more important than that.

It represented trust.

And that was worth more than any game or social media app.

What Raphael and Ella Learned About Trust:
  • Trust is earned . You have to show you can be trusted through your actions
  • Trust is fragile. It takes a long time to build and a moment to break
  • Rules protect you. Parents set rules to keep you safe—not to be mean
  • Good choices matter. Make good choices even when no one is watching
  • Actions speak louder. Saying “I’m sorry” isn’t enough—you have to show it
  • Second chances exist. If you break trust, you can rebuild it with patience
  • Trust brings freedom. When you’re trusted, you get more independence
  • Be patient. Rebuilding trust takes time—don’t rush it

Raphael and Ella: The Gratitude Glasses

A Children’s Story About Appreciating What You Have and Showing Thankfulness

The Calculator Incident

It was the start of the new school year. Raphael’s mum handed him a brand-new calculator.

“Here you go, Raphael,” she said with a smile. “Your old one broke, so I got you a replacement.”

Raphael took the calculator. He turned it over in his hands. It wasn’t the Casio brand he previously had. It was a different make.

“Mum, why didn’t you get the Casio one?” Raphael asked, frowning. “Everyone in my class has the Casio. This one looks… basic.”

His mum’s smile faded. “Raphael, I spent my lunch break finding this for you. I had to visit three shops. Your old calculator broke because you left it on the floor and your friend stepped on it—even though I’ve told you a hundred times to put your things away.”

“But it wasn’t my fault!” Raphael argued. “Ella dropped it by accident!”

“Raphael, it doesn’t matter who dropped it,” his mum said firmly. “What matters is that I went out of my way to get you a new one, and instead of saying thank you, you’re complaining about the brand.”

Raphael opened his mouth to argue, but his mum held up her hand.

“This isn’t the first time, Raphael. Do you remember when Auntie Wettie came to take you to swimming because I couldn’t? You kept her waiting for twenty minutes while you finished your game. She took time out of her day to help us, and you couldn’t even say thank you properly.”

Raphael looked down at his feet. He remembered that day. He had been annoyed that his game was interrupted. He hadn’t thought about Auntie Wettie’s time at all.

The Doctor’s Appointment

A few days later, Raphael’s mum took time off work to take him to the doctor. He had been complaining about his ears for weeks, but whenever his mum mentioned it, he brushed her off.

“There’s nothing wrong with my ears!” Raphael insisted as they sat in the waiting room. “Why are we even here? You didn’t have to take time off work. I’m fine!”

His mum took a deep breath. “Raphael, I took a half-day off work. I lost pay for this appointment. I did it because I care about you. The least you could do is be grateful that I’m here.”

Raphael crossed his arms. “I didn’t ask you to take time off.”

His mum’s eyes filled with frustration. “That’s exactly my point. You don’t ask. You don’t appreciate. You just expect. Do you remember what happened when I asked if you’d practised your guitar?”

Raphael looked away.

“Nothing,” his mum continued. “You haven’t practised in weeks. I pay for those lessons every single week. Your guitar teacher shows up on time every Thursday. And you can’t even bother to pick up the guitar for ten minutes.”

Raphael’s cheeks burned.

“That’s ingratitude, Raphael,” his mum said quietly. “When someone gives you something—time, money, effort—and you act like it doesn’t matter. Like it’s not enough. Like you deserve more.”

The Uncomfortable Silence

The doctor’s appointment went fine. There was nothing wrong with Raphael’s ears after all. But the car ride home was silent. Raphael’s mum didn’t speak. Her jaw was tight. Her hands gripped the steering wheel.

Raphael wanted to say something. He wanted to apologise. But the words felt stuck.

That morning, he went to school feeling heavy and sad.

Ella Notices

At playtime, Ella found Raphael sitting alone on the bench. His shoulders were slumped. His eyes looked tired.

“Raphael, what’s wrong?” Ella asked gently. “You look miserable.”

Raphael sighed. “I had a huge argument with my mum. She got me a new calculator for school, but I complained because it wasn’t the brand I wanted. Then she brought up how I kept Auntie Wettie waiting, and how I argued about going to the doctor, and how I never practise my guitar even though she pays for lessons.”

Ella listened carefully. “That sounds like a lot.”

“Now my mum is really upset with me,” Raphael continued. “She said I’m ungrateful. And I think she might be right.”

Ella sat beside him. “Raphael, do you know what gratitude is?”

“Being thankful?” Raphael guessed.

“More than that,” Ella said. “Gratitude is noticing what people do for you. It’s saying thank you—and meaning it. It’s showing people that you value their time and effort.”

Raphael thought about it. “Like when you helped me with maths last week? I said thank you.”

“Yes, you did,” Ella said. “And I appreciated that. But imagine if you had complained that I didn’t explain it well enough. Or if you’d said, ‘Why didn’t you show me another way?’ How would that have felt?”

Raphael winced. “That would have been really rude.”

“Exactly,” Ella said. “Your mum took time out of her day to get you a calculator. She took time off work to take you to the doctor. She pays for your guitar lessons. And instead of saying thank you, you complained, argued, and ignored her efforts.”

Raphael’s eyes stung. “I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. I just didn’t think.”

“That’s the thing about gratitude,” Ella said gently. “You have to practise it. You have to stop and think: What did someone do for me today? How did they help me? And then you have to say thank you—and show it.”

Raphael’s Apology

That evening, Raphael found his mum in the kitchen. She was cooking dinner, her back turned to him.

“Mum?” Raphael said quietly. “Can I talk to you?”

His mum turned around. Her eyes were still sad.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael said. “I was ungrateful about the calculator. And about Auntie Wettie. And about the doctor. And the guitar lessons. You do so much for me, and I’ve been acting like it doesn’t matter.”

His mum’s expression softened.

“I appreciate everything you do,” Raphael continued. “You work hard. You take time off for me. You pay for my lessons. You buy me things. And I’ve been complaining instead of saying thank you.”

His mum walked over and pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you, Raphael,” she whispered. “That means more than you know.”

The Next Day

The next morning, Raphael found his mum’s favourite coffee mug and made her a cup of tea. He also wrote a short note and left it on the kitchen table.

It read:

“Mum, thank you for everything you do for me. I’m going to try harder to show gratitude. Love, Raphael.”

When his mum saw the note, her eyes filled with happy tears.

At school, Raphael saw Ella and smiled. “I apologised to my mum. It felt really good.”

Ella grinned. “That’s gratitude in action. It’s not just saying thank you—it’s showing it.”

Raphael nodded. “From now on, I’m going to wear my gratitude glasses. I’m going to notice what people do for me—and I’m going to show them I appreciate it.”

“You already are,” Ella said. “And I’m proud of you.”

What Raphael and Ella Learned About Gratitude:

Gratitude is noticing Pay attention to what others do for you

Say thank you and mean it. A genuine thank you makes people feel valued

Don’t complain about gifts. Be thankful for what you receive, even if it’s not perfect
Value other people’s time. When someone helps you, don’t keep them waiting

Appreciate effort. People take time and money to support you—show you notice

Practise gratitude daily. It’s a habit you have to build

Gratitude strengthens relationships. Thankfulness brings people closer

Ingratitude hurts people. Complaining and arguing makes others feel unappreciated

Raphael and Ella: The Confidence Trap

A Children’s Story About Social Media, Self-Sabotage, and Building Real Confidence

Raphael and Ella sat next to each other in class, shared snacks at break, and walked home together every day. But lately, Raphael had been acting different.

He was tired. Grumpy. His eyes had dark circles underneath them. His homework was late. He looked scruffy and he’d not been seen playing football —his favourite thing in the world.

Ella noticed everything.

“Raphael, are you okay?” she asked one morning. “You look exhausted.”

Raphael yawned loudly. “I’m fine. Just busy.”

But Ella wasn’t convinced. She knew Raphael too well.

That night, Raphael’s dad called up the stairs. “Raphael! Bedtime! Put your tablet away!”

“I will, dad!” Raphael called back.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Raphael shut his bedroom door. He pulled the duvet over his head. And he opened TikTok.

For hours, he scrolled. He watched teenagers showing off their six-packs. He watched kids his age doing backflips and dancing. They all looked so confident. So popular. So perfect.

Raphael felt small.

Then he had an idea. He created a video and took a photo of himself, without a top on. He used a filter to make his face look older. He sucked in his stomach and pretended he had muscles. He captioned it: “16 years old. Gym life. Who’s with me?”

Likes flooded in. Comments poured out.

“Bro, you’re huge!”

“Teach me your routine!”

Raphael’s heart raced. This felt amazing. People liked him. They thought he was cool.

He stayed up until 4am—replying to comments, messaging strangers, chatting with friends who were also awake.

When his dad knocked on his door at 10pm, he was still awake, dad tried to leave his room door open, but Raphael asked for it to be shut. “I feel more secure” he says.

At 12 midnight dad came around Raphael’s room and he pretended to be asleep. He hid the tablet under his pillow.

The next morning, Raphael couldn’t wake up at 5.30am, which is Raphael’s usual wake up time. He has been more tired in recent weeks, prompting his mum to contact the doctors. “Perhaps his Iron level is low” says Raphael’ mum!

The alarm continued that morning ! His dad called him three times. Finally, he opened the door and pulled off his duvet.

“Raphael! You’re going to be late!”

Raphael groaned. His head pounded. His eyes stung. He dragged himself out of bed, skipped breakfast, and ran to school, once again looking scruffy, hair not combed and wearing easy fit trainers , instead of proper school shoes

At school, Raphael could barely keep his eyes open. During maths, he put his head on his desk. During English, he forgot his homework—again.

“Raphael, this is the third time this week,” his teacher said. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Miss,” Raphael mumbled. “I just can’t concentrate.”

At lunch, Ella found him slumped on a bench.

“Raphael, talk to me,” she said gently. “What’s really happening?”

Raphael hesitated. Then it all came out.

“I’ve been staying up late on TikTok,” he confessed. “I made a video pretending I’m 16 with six-packs. Everyone thinks I’m cool. I got hundreds of likes. But now I’m so tired I can’t do anything. I can’t wake up. I can’t exercise. I can’t even think straight.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “Raphael! You’re lying about your age? You’re talking to strangers? That’s dangerous!”

“I know,” Raphael whispered. “But I wanted to feel confident. Everyone online looks so perfect. I wanted to be like them.”

Ella took a deep breath. “Raphael, that’s not confidence. That’s a trap. Real confidence doesn’t come from filters and fake muscles. It comes from doing hard things—like waking up early, exercising, being honest and prioritising learning!

Ella pulled out her tablet. But instead of showing Raphael a video, she showed him something else.

“Look,” she said. “I use social media too. But I use it to learn.”

She scrolled through her feed. There were videos about knitting patterns. Maths tutorials. Science experiments. Positive affirmations and some piano tutorials.

“I follow people who teach me things,” Ella said. “I don’t compare myself to anyone. And I never, ever talk to strangers. Social media can be good—but only if you use it wisely.”

Raphael stared at her screen. “You use social media for school?”

“Sometimes,” Ella said. “But I also set a timer. Thirty minutes a day. Then I switch it off and go to bed. No excuses.”

Raphael felt silly. “I’ve been wasting hours. Hours I could have spent sleeping. Or exercising. Or actually getting better at things.”

“That’s called self-sabotage,” Ella said. “When you get in your own way. You wanted confidence, but you stayed up late and lied. Now you’re tired, your grades are slipping, and you’ve lost trust with your parents.”

That evening, Raphael’s parents sat him down.

“Raphael, we found your tablet history,” his dad said quietly. “You’ve been staying up until 4am. You’ve been talking to strangers and having needless conversations about people’s friendship and relationships online. You lied to us about going to bed.”

Raphael’s face burned. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“We trusted you,” his mum said. “And that trust is broken. When you break trust, it takes time to rebuild. For the next month, your tablet stays in the living room. No closed doors. No screens after 8pm.”

Raphael nodded. His heart felt heavy.

“But we’re not giving up on you,” his dad added. “We want to help you build real confidence. Not fake confidence.”

The next morning, Raphael’s alarm went off at 5.30am. He wanted to snooze it. He wanted to roll over and sleep.

But he remembered Ella’s words. Real confidence comes from doing hard things.

He got up. He brushed his teeth. He did ten push-ups. His arms trembled. It wasn’t a six-pack. It wasn’t impressive. But he did it.

Every morning that week, Raphael got up early. He exercised—just a little. He went to bed on time. He used social media for only thirty minutes—and only to watch educational content.

By Friday, Raphael felt different. He had more energy. He could concentrate in class. He even scored a goal in football practice—his first in weeks!

At lunch, Ella smiled. “You look different, Raphael. Happier.”

“I feel different,” Raphael admitted. “I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m just… me. And it’s not perfect. But it’s real.”

“That’s confidence,” Ella said. “Real confidence isn’t about likes or followers. It’s about trusting yourself. Knowing you can handle things—even hard things.”

Raphael nodded. “I also learned something else. When I broke my parents’ trust, it hurt them. And it hurt me too. Now I have to earn it back—one day at a time.”

“That takes patience,” Ella said. “But you’re doing it.”

That night, Raphael opened TikTok. He didn’t post a video. He didn’t scroll for hours.

Instead, he wrote one comment on a maths tutorial: “Thanks for this. It really helped me understand fractions.”

Then he put the tablet down, brushed his teeth, and went to bed—with his door open.

His mum walked past his room and smiled. “Goodnight, Raphael.”

“Goodnight, Mum,” he said. “I love you.”

She paused. “I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m proud of you.”

For the first time in weeks, Raphael fell asleep feeling proud of himself too.

What Raphael and Ella Learned About Confidence and Social Media:

  • Social media can be a trap; Fake filters and likes don’t build real confidence
  • Social media can be a tool Use it to learn, not to compare or lie
  • Peer pressure is powerful; Don’t let others make you feel small
  • Self-sabotage hurts you; Staying up late and lying wastes your potential
  • Lost trust must be earned back; Broken trust takes time and honesty to rebuild
  • Real confidence comes from effort Wake up early, exercise, and do hard things
  • Time is precious Don’t waste hours scrolling—use your time wisely
  • Online safety matters Never talk to strangers or share personal information

Raphael and Ella: The Courage to Show Your Heart

A Children’s Story About Vulnerability, Safe Spaces, and Emotional Intelligence

Raphael and Ella had learned many things together. Self-respect. Gratitude. Attitude. But there was one lesson that felt scarier than all of them.

Vulnerability.

Raphael had been acting strange all week. He was quiet. He snapped at his little sister. He looked disorganised and even went to school forgetting the print out of his completed assignment and didn’t comb his hair.

Ella noticed everything.

“Raphael,” she said softly. She had noticed Raphael sitting quietly at a corner in a very noisy assembly hall. Raphael would usually be part of the noise makers, but not today. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Firstly Raphael, your hair looks rough,” she said gently. “And then you don’t appear to have a print out of your assignment with you.”

“Nothing,” Raphael mumbled. “I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t fine. His eyes were red. His shoulders were slumped and of course his hair looked coarse, dry and frizzy!

Ella sat beside him. “You don’t have to tell me. But I’m here. And whatever it is, I won’t laugh. I won’t tell anyone. This is a safe space.”

Raphael looked at her. His lip trembled.

“My dad bought a business,” Raphael said quietly. “It’s three hours away. He has to travel there every week. He’s exhausted. He’s stressed. And now he’s talking about moving us closer to the business.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “Moving? Away from here?”

Raphael nodded. Tears spilled down his cheeks. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave this school, I don’t want to leave my football team. But Dad says the long travel is making him tired and stressed. He thinks it’s affecting everything—even my attitude at home, at school and at football.”

Ella didn’t say, “It’ll be okay.” She didn’t try to fix it. She just sat with him and let him cry.

“Thank you for telling me,” Ella said gently. “That took courage. Being vulnerable means sharing your feelings even when you’re scared. You trusted me with something real.”

Raphael wiped his eyes. “It feels lighter. Like I was carrying a heavy rock and I put it down.”

“That’s what vulnerability does,” Ella said. “It shares the weight.”

Later that day, Raphael’s teacher, Mrs. Patel, noticed he seemed distracted.

“Raphael, is everything alright? You look unusually rough and upset.”

Raphael hesitated. Mrs. Patel was kind. She always listened. But the classroom was full of other students. Everyone could hear.

“I’m just worried about something,” Raphael said quietly. “My dad bought a business far away. He’s always travelling. Now he wants to move us closer.”

Mrs. Patel’s face softened. “Thank you for sharing, Raphael. That must be very stressful.”

But before Raphael could say anything else, some boys at the back started whispering.

“Moving?” one of them snickered. “Where to? Some tiny village school?”

“Yeah,” another boy laughed. “Probably no football team there. Or maybe they play on a muddy field with cows.”

Raphael’s face burned. His stomach twisted. He hadn’t meant for everyone to hear. He had just answered Mrs. Patel honestly.

“Shut up!” Raphael snapped, his voice shaking. “You don’t know anything!”

The boys laughed louder. “Scared of cows, Raphael?”

Raphael became even more upset despite Mrs. Patel trying to calm the situation down. “Keep quiet everyone. Be kind to Raphael,” she said.

Ella found him sitting quietly at the canteen. His face was wet with tears and anger.

“Raphael! What happened?”

“I told Mrs. Patel about the move,” Raphael said, his voice cracking. “And everyone heard. Those boys—they mocked me. They said I’d go to some rubbish school with cows.”

Ella’s expression turned serious. “Raphael, that wasn’t a safe space. The classroom is public. Anyone can hear.

Being vulnerable is brave—but you have to choose the right time, the right place, and the right people.”

Raphael wiped his eyes. “I thought Mrs. Patel was safe.”

“She is,” Ella said. “But the classroom isn’t. She couldn’t control what the other kids heard or said. That’s not her fault. But it’s a lesson for you. Save your big feelings for private spaces—with trusted people.”

Raphael nodded slowly. “So vulnerability is good, but not with everyone, everywhere?”

“Exactly,” Ella said. “Safe spaces are with people who have earned your trust. Not with strangers. Not in front of a whole class. And definitely not online.”

Ella pulled out her tablet. “Speaking of online—look at this.”

She showed Raphael a pop-up ad: “FREE ROBUX! CLICK HERE!”

“See this?” Ella said. “This is a trap. If you click it, they ask for your name, your school, your password. They use your trust to steal from you. That’s vulnerability in a dangerous way.”

Raphael nodded. “So being vulnerable online is bad?”

“Not always,” Ella said. “But you have to be smart. Never share personal information. Never click unknown links. Never tell strangers your feelings or secrets. That’s not a safe space—that’s a danger zone.”

That evening, Raphael sat down with his dad.

“Dad, I need to talk to you. For real.”

His dad put down his laptop. “Of course, son. What’s on your mind?”

Raphael took a deep breath. “I’m scared about moving. I don’t want to leave my school. I don’t want to leave my team. But I also see how tired you are. I know the travel is hard. I know it’s affecting everything.”

His dad’s eyes softened. “Raphael, my preferred option is to remain here to keep you at your school and your team but your attitude and standards needs to improve. It causes your mum and I additional stress.”

“I understand daddy,” Raphael admitted. “But I want to be honest. I want to find a way through this together. Maybe we don’t have to move. Maybe there’s another solution.”

His dad pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for telling me, son. That took real courage. Let’s figure this out together.”

The next week, Raphael’s dad found a solution. He hired a manager to run the business three days a week. He reduced his travel to just one day. No more relocation. No more moving.

Raphael felt like the world had lifted off his shoulders.

He found Ella at the playground.

“I want to thank you,” Raphael said. “You were my safe space. You didn’t judge me. You didn’t tell anyone. You just listened. And you taught me when NOT to share.”

Ella smiled. “That’s what friends do.”

“I also learned something else,” Raphael said. “Being vulnerable with everyone is dangerous. Those boys used my feelings to hurt me. I have to choose wisely. Safe people. Safe places.”

Ella nodded. “Vulnerability is a superpower—but like all superpowers, you have to use it responsibly. Share your heart with safe people. Protect it from unsafe ones. And never let anyone make you feel bad for having feelings.”

Raphael grinned. “Can I be vulnerable with you again?”

“Always,” Ella said. “That’s what safe spaces are for.”

The next day at school, one of the boys who had mocked Raphael came up to him.

“Hey, sorry about the cow joke,” the boy mumbled. “That was mean.”

Raphael looked at him. He remembered how it felt to be mocked. He also remembered that vulnerability is a gift you choose to give—not everyone deserves it.

“Thank you for apologising,” Raphael said carefully. “But next time, think before you speak. You don’t know what someone else is going through.”

The boy nodded and walked away.

Ella appeared beside Raphael. “That was mature. How did you stay so calm?”

Raphael smiled. “Because I learned something. My feelings are precious. I only share them with people who have earned the right to hear them. Everyone else just sees my smile.”

Ella high-fived him. “That’s emotional intelligence. And vulnerability. Together.”

LessonWhat it Means
Safe spacesShare your feelings with people who have earned your trust
Telling the truthHonesty with safe people lightens heavy feelings
TransparencyBeing open helps others understand and support you
When NOT to shareAvoid sharing big feelings in public spaces or with strangers
Online safetyNever share personal information or click unknown links
Protecting yourselfChoose wisely who gets to hear your heart

Raphael and Ella: The Attitude Altitude

A Children’s Story About Feedback, Growth Mindset, and Building a Positive Attitude

Raphael and Ella had learned a lot together. Self-respect. Gratitude. Consistency. But there was one lesson Raphael hadn’t quite mastered yet.

His attitude!

Ella was buzzing with excitement. She had just passed her Grade 1 piano exam with flying colours.

“I did it, Raphael!” she said, waving her certificate. “All those weeks of practice paid off!”

“That’s great,” Raphael said flatly. He didn’t sound great.

Ella noticed. “What’s wrong?”

Raphael kicked a stone. “The coaches said I can’t move up to the elite football squad.”

Ella’s face fell. “But you’re the fastest player! Why not?”

Raphael’s voice got louder. “They said my ‘attitude needs work.’ That I don’t ‘receive feedback positively.'”

He mimicked the coach’s voice angrily. “Every time they tell me to do something, I tell them why they’re wrong!”

Ella winced. “Raphael, that doesn’t sound like you.”

“That is me!” Raphael shouted. “They just don’t get it!”

Ella didn’t react. She just waited.

Later that week, Raphael’s teacher handed back his maths test. A big red “C” was scrawled at the top.

“Raphael,” the teacher said gently, “you’re capable of so much more. But you rush through your work. When I give you feedback, you argue instead of listening.”

Raphael grabbed his test and shoved it in his bag. “This test was too hard!” he muttered.

At home, his mum found him slumped on his bed.

“Raphael, what happened?”

“Nothing mum. I am tired.”

“Well,” mum says, “that’s why you need to go to bed early and stop trying looking for the smart phone or iPad after bedtime.”

His mum sat beside him. “I know you are a good kid. I also know you’re upset. But sweetheart, your attitude is holding you back. At football. At school. You have so much potential—but potential without a good attitude goes nowhere.”

Raphael looked at his football medal on the shelf. He used to be so proud of it. Now it just made him sad.

The next day, Ella found Raphael sitting alone at lunch.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ve been horrible lately.”

Ella nodded. “You have been a bit grumpy.”

Raphael almost laughed. “My coach said I can’t move up because I don’t take feedback. My teacher gave me a C because I argue instead of listen. Even my mum said my attitude is holding me back.”

Ella thought for a moment. “Do you remember when I practised piano every day?”

“Of course. You were so consistent.”

“My teacher gave me feedback all the time. ‘Your fingers are too flat. Your timing is off. Play it again, slower.'”

Raphael nodded. “That sounds annoying.”

“It was,” Ella admitted. “But I listened. Because I wanted to get better. If I got angry every time she corrected me, my mum would have stopped the lessons.”

Raphael stared at his sandwich. “So you’re saying I should just… accept being told I’m wrong?”

“I’m saying feedback isn’t an attack,” Ella said. “It’s a gift. Someone took time to help you improve. When you argue, you throw that gift away.”

That afternoon, Raphael walked to football practice with a different mindset.

Coach called him over. “Raphael, your footwork is sloppy on the left side. You need to practise your weaker foot.”

Raphael opened his mouth to argue. My left foot is fine!

But he stopped himself. He took a deep breath.

“Okay, Coach,” he said. “Can you show me what I’m doing wrong?”

Coach’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then he smiled. “Gladly.”

For the first time, Raphael actually listened. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t roll his eyes. He did exactly what Coach said.

After practice, Coach pulled him aside. “That was much better. You know, the elite squad isn’t just about skill. It’s about attitude. Players who can learn, grow, and take feedback. Keep this up, and we’ll talk.”

Raphael’s heart jumped. “Really?”

“Really.”

At school, Raphael tried the same thing. When his teacher gave him feedback on his essay, he didn’t argue.

“I see what you mean,” he said. “Can I rewrite it and show you tomorrow?”

The teacher looked pleasantly surprised. “Of course, Raphael. That’s a great attitude.”

That night, Raphael didn’t rush through his homework. He took his time. He checked his answers. He even asked Ella to quiz him on spellings.

“I can’t believe this is the same Raphael,” Ella joked.

Raphael grinned. “I can. I just had to stop being angry at everyone who was trying to help me.”

Three months later, Raphael’s teacher handed back his recent maths test. A big red “A” was at the top.

“Raphael, this is wonderful progress. Your attitude shift has made all the difference.”

Raphael smiled. “Thank you. I listened this time.”

At football, Coach gathered the team. “Raphael, you’ve shown real improvement. Not just in your skills—in your attitude. You’re ready for the elite squad.”

Raphael felt like he could fly.

After practice, he and Ella walked home together.

“Your attitude determines your altitude,” Ella said. “You can’t go higher than your head is willing to go.”

Raphael nodded. “I thought the coaches and teachers were against me. But they were actually trying to lift me up. I just had to let them.”

Ella smiled. “And now look at you. Elite squad. Top grades. Same Raphael—but better.”

Raphael laughed. “Same Ella—always right.”

They high-fived.

“To better attitudes,” Raphael said.

“To higher altitudes,” Ella replied.

What Raphael and Ella Learned About Attitude:

  • Feedback is a gift. When someone corrects you, they’re helping you grow
  • Your attitude determines your altitude. How high you go depends on how open you are to learning
    Arguing blocks progress. Defensiveness stops you from improving
  • Listening is a skill. Pay attention to feedback—even when it’s hard to hear
  • Consistency matters. Small daily efforts lead to big results
  • Potential needs a good attitude. Talent alone isn’t enough—you need a growth mindset
  • Screen time affects everything. Staying up late on devices ruins your energy and attitude

Raphael and Ella: The Respect Within (self-respect)

Raphael and Ella were best friends. They did everything together: football, homework, and sharing snacks at break. But lately, Raphael had noticed something different about himself.

He was leaving his dirty dishes in the sink,
His mum had to call him three times to get out of bed. He rushed to school with his shirt untucked and his hair sticking up. His homework was done—but only after his mum asked. His room looked like a tornado had visited.

“I’ll do it later,” Raphael always said.

But “later” never came.

One morning, Ella noticed Raphael’s shoelaces were untied, his hair not combed, and his collar was crooked. She gently pointed at her own neat uniform.

“Raphael,” she said softly, “when you show up messy, people notice. Not to be mean—but they address you the way they perceive you.

Raphael frowned. “I was in a rush plus I misplaced my comb.”

“Every day?” Ella asked.

Raphael didn’t have an answer.

One morning at school, a group of cool older kids approached Raphael. They had something in their hands—shiny stickers, extra snack bars, and a fancy pen.

“Here,” said the oldest boy, pushing a sticker into Raphael’s hand. “You can have this. Just hang with us at lunch.”

Raphael was thrilled. Free stuff! He pocketed the sticker.

Then the group started making fun of a quiet boy in the corner. “Look at his shoes,” one girl whispered. “So last year.”

They laughed. Raphael’s stomach twisted.

“Your friend Ella is always helping everyone,” another boy said. “So desperate for attention.”

Raphael opened his mouth to laugh along. But nothing came out.

Later, Ella found Raphael sitting alone on the bench. “What’s wrong?”

Raphael pulled out the sticker. “They gave me this. But they wanted me to laugh at people. At you.”

Ella sat down. “Did you laugh?”

“No,” Raphael said quietly. “But I wanted to fit in. I wanted the free stuff.”

Ella nodded. “Raphael, do you know what self-respect is?”

“Kind of,” he said. “It’s like… being proud of yourself?”

“More than that,” Ella said. “Self-respect is treating yourself like someone who matters. That means doing your homework before your mum asks. Washing your own dish after dinner. Picking up your own mess. Because you deserve a tidy life.”

Raphael blinked. “I’ve been leaving everything for later.”

“Exactly,” Ella said. “And when you don’t respect yourself, it’s easier to let other people disrespect you too. Those older kids weren’t being nice. They were buying your bad behaviour with stickers.”

That night, Raphael couldn’t sleep. He thought about Ella’s words. He thought about the older kids. He thought about his messy room and his untucked shirt.He looked at his dirty plate in the sink. He looked at his homework on the table. He looked at his messy room.

Then he did something different.

He washed his plate. He dried it and put it away.

He sat down and finished his maths assignment without anyone telling him.

He picked up his clothes from the floor and put them in the basket.

When his mum walked in, her mouth dropped open. “Raphael! Did you do all this yourself?”

Raphael nodded. “I’m respecting myself now.”

His mum hugged him so tight. “I’m impressed.”

The next morning, something interesting happened

Raphael woke up before his alarm. He showered without being told. He brushed his hair until it lay flat. He tucked his shirt in neatly. He tied his shoelaces tight. He packed his bag the night before—so nothing was forgotten.

At breakfast, he washed his bowl and put it in the rack. No one asked him to.

His mum walked into the kitchen and was even more impressed

His mum hugged him tight. “I’m so proud of you.”

At school, Ella noticed immediately. “Your uniform is perfect,” she said. “And you’re early!”

Raphael grinned. “I set my alarm. I got ready without anyone telling me. It felt… good.”

“Because you’re treating yourself like someone who matters,” Ella said.

At lunch, the football club had a meeting. Raphael had forgotten his short last week and looked scruffy with a different nike short on. But today, he had his clean, correct uniform—shirt, shorts, shin pads, and proper socks.

“Ready for practice!” he announced.

The coach smiled. “Now that’s what I call prepared.”

Then the older kids appeared again. They offered Raphael a fancy chocolate bar. “Sit with us,” they said. “We’ll share.”

Raphael looked at the chocolate. Then he looked at his neat uniform. At his clean hands. At his packed bag.

“I don’t need gifts to be your friend,” Raphael said firmly.

The group stared. “What’s wrong with you?” one asked.

Raphael stood taller. “Nothing. I just respect myself. And respecting myself means not laughing at people. Not letting anyone disrespect me. And not taking things that come with bad conditions.”

The group rolled their eyes and walked away.

Ella appeared beside him. “That was self-respect in action.”

“It felt weird,” Raphael admitted. “But also… powerful?”

“Because you chose you,” Ella said. “Not the sticker. Not the chocolate. Not their approval. You chose yourself. And you showed up as your best self—early, neat, prepared. That way, nobody even had the chance to disrespect you.”

From that day on, Raphael did things differently.

He woke up early every morning. He wore the right uniform to every club. He did his homework before his mum asked. He washed his own dishes. He tidied his room. He brushed his hair. He tied his shoes.

One afternoon, a new kid at school had his shirt untucked and his bag spilling open. The older kids started snickering.

Raphael walked over. He knelt down and helped the new kid pack his bag properly.

“Here,” Raphael said, tucking in the kid’s shirt gently. “You’ll feel better when you look after yourself. People treat you the way you treat you.”

The new kid smiled. “Thanks. I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Raphael smiled back. “Now you do.”

Ella watched from across the playground. She didn’t say anything. She just nodded proudly.

At the end of the day, Raphael and Ella walked home together.

“Self-respect isn’t about being perfect,” Raphael said. “It’s about knowing I matter. Even when no one’s watching. It’s showing up early. Dressing right. Doing the small things—because I’m worth it.”

Ella grinned. “And when you respect yourself, others respect you too.”

They high-fived.

“To showing up,” Raphael said.

“To your best self,” Ella replied.

Raphael and Ella: Emotional Intelligence (The Red Zone Relay)

It was Sports Day at Raphael and Ella’s school. The sun was shining. The parents were cheering. And Raphael was determined to win the relay race.

He had practiced for weeks. He was fast. He was ready.

The race began. Raphael’s team was in the lead. He grabbed the baton for the final stretch and ran like the wind. He could see the finish line. He could hear his mum shouting his name.

Then—thump.

Raphael tripped over his own feet. He hit the grass hard. The baton flew out of his hand. Two other runners zoomed past him.

Raphael’s team came in last.

He lay on the grass, breathing hard. His face burned. His eyes stung. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw the baton. He wanted to disappear.

Ella ran over. She didn’t say, “It’s okay.” She didn’t say, “You tried your best.” She just sat down next to him on the grass and waited.

“I’m so mad,” Raphael growled through clenched teeth.

“I know,” Ella said.

“I practiced so much. And I ruined everything.”

Ella nodded. “That’s the red zone, Raphael. Your feelings are huge right now. Your brain is tiny.”

Raphael kicked the grass. “I don’t want to breathe. I want to be angry.”

“Then be angry,” Ella said. “I’ll stay here. But when you’re ready, try this: breathe in for four, hold for four, out for four.”

Raphael scowled. But he took one breath. Then another. Then three.

After a minute, his fists unclenched. His face stopped burning.

“I still feel bad,” he said quietly.

“Of course you do,” Ella said. “That’s allowed. Emotional intelligence doesn’t mean you stop feeling sad or angry. It means you notice it, you name it, and you don’t let it make you mean.”

Raphael looked around. His teammates were slouching on the bench. One kid was crying. Another was blaming the wind.

“I should go say sorry to my team,” Raphael said. “For falling.”

“That would be kind,” Ella said. “But you don’t have to be kind right now if you’re not ready. You can just sit here first.”

Raphael shook his head. “No. I want to. I fell. But I can still cheer for them in the next race.”

He walked over to his teammates. “I messed up,” he said. “But you all ran so fast before that. I’m sorry.”

The crying kid looked up. “It’s okay. Tripping happens.”

They all high-fived. And when the next race started, Raphael cheered loudest of all—even though he wasn’t running.

Afterward, Ella said, “You didn’t just feel your feelings. You used them to do something good. That’s emotional intelligence.”

Raphael smiled. “I still wish I won.”

“Me too,” Ella said. “But I’m prouder of you for not staying angry.”

They walked to the ice cream cart together. Raphael bought two cones—one for Ella and one for himself.

“To red zones,” he said, holding up his cone.

“To breathing through them,” Ella clinked back.

Raphael and Ella: The Honest Choice

Leo and Maya had learned a lot together. They learned that a small parking spot could be leverage—a tiny thing that moves something big. They learned that five minutes of practice every day was consistency—small efforts that build real skill.

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