Agent Mirabelle and the case of the missing snacks

Agent Mirabelle and the Case of the Missing Snacks

Mirabelle zipped around the living room on her chubby little feet, arms out like airplane wings. Her pink onesie had little clouds on it, and her hair was pulled up into a tiny sprout on top of her head. She was not just a baby today. She was Agent Mirabelle, baby detective on a top-secret mission.

She paused mid-flight and pointed to the kitchen. “Snacks. Gone,” she said with a dramatic whisper.

Her loyal sidekick, Agent H. He was her big black lab, and partner. He perked up his ears and trotted over to investigate. Agent H was strong, dependable, and occasionally very gassy.

Mirabelle waddled to the pantry, opened the door with a grunt, and stared at the empty shelf where her banana puffs used to be. She gasped. “Dun dun dunnn.”

A single puff remained on the floor. She picked it up, examined it, and showed it to Agent H. “Clue.”

Agent H sniffed it and sneezed.

“Exactly,” Mirabelle nodded.

Her mom walked into the kitchen and raised an eyebrow. “Are you solving mysteries again, Mirabelle?”

Mirabelle pointed to the shelf. “Snacks. Gone.”

Mom opened the fridge. “I didn’t eat them. Maybe Auntie gave them to someone?”

Mirabelle’s eyes narrowed. “Auntie.”

She remembered seeing Auntie this morning. She’d been packing a little bag and whispering to Agent A, the other family dog—a cute but scruffy mutt with suspicious eyebrows and a habit of stealing socks, stuffed animals, shoes, toys, small pillows, and the TV remote. Will snacks be added to list?

“Agent A,” Mirabelle muttered. “Very suspicious.”

She set off toward the living room again, where Agent A was lying upside-down on the couch, belly exposed, looking way too relaxed. Mirabelle climbed onto the couch and leaned in close.

“Interrogation time.”

Agent A blinked.

“Where Are The Snacks?” Mirabelle asked, poking his nose gently.

Agent A yawned and rolled over.

Mirabelle turned to Agent H, who was now chewing a squeaky toy that had absolutely nothing to do with this investigation.

“We need backup,” she declared.

She pulled herself up on the coffee table and began scanning the room. Her gaze landed on the back door... which was slightly open.

Aha. “Evidence,” she whispered. Then, yelled, “OUTSIDE!”

Mom helped her into her shoes and opened the door. The backyard was full of possibilities: birds, grass, mud puddles, and most importantly, Agent A’s secret stash zone behind the shed.

Mirabelle led the charge, Agent H lumbering behind like a very furry bodyguard. They turned the corner. And there, behind the shed, was the truth. A pile of stolen treasures: a half-eaten sandwich, three socks, a plastic spoon, and an empty banana puff bag.

Mirabelle gasped so loudly it made Agent H bark, then toot. She picked up the puff bag, held it high, and shouted, “A-ha!”

Agent A, who had followed them outside, gave one sheepish bark and wagged his tail.

“Case. Closed,” Mirabelle said with a grin.

Her mom peeked around the corner and shook her head, smiling. “Well, well, Agent A strikes again.”

Back inside, after a proper snack refill and a good hand wash, Mirabelle sat in her highchair with a full tray of banana puffs, cheese cubes, and grapes cut precisely in eighths. She looked thoughtful.

Her mom asked, “Still thinking about the case?”

Mirabelle nodded.

Her mom smiled. “That’s how it works sometimes. We try and try, and then when we settle down, the answer just pops in.”

Mirabelle popped a puff into her mouth. “That’s what happen.”

As Agent H curled up nearby and Agent A tried (unsuccessfully) to look innocent, Mirabelle smiled to herself. She was confused at first, but stayed curious and kept an open mind, taking in new information and the answer presented itself. And that was enough to solve any case.

Three Principles in Action

1. Mind

Mind is the quiet, steady wisdom inside Mirabelle. It does not shout. It simply waits for her to settle down enough to notice the gentle nudge that says, Look again. That inner wisdom was with her the whole time.

2. Consciousness

Consciousness let Mirabelle experience the mystery as something real. It brought each clue to life. When her awareness shifted, the whole situation looked different, and new possibilities showed up.

3. Thought

Thought created the story she was living. At first her thinking was confused and dramatic, which made the mystery feel big. As she softened and stayed curious, new thoughts appeared on their own, showing her the next step.

Final Thought

When life feels puzzling, you don’t have to force an answer. Your wisdom is already there. When your mind settles, the next thought you need simply rises up, kind of like a missing snack bag behind the shed, just waiting to be found.

From Papa’s Workshop Notebook

Sometimes my thoughts feel like waves on an endless sea.
I start with one small idea, and before I know it, I am miles away from shore, pulled and spun by something that feels beyond my say-so. The waves come fast, one after another, each insisting it is important, each louder than the last.

But beneath all that movement, there is something quieter.
A stillness that does not chase or argue. A place within that watches the waves rise and fall and knows the sea has not gone anywhere.

James once wrote that a person who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. He was not scolding; he was pointing to what happens when we forget where our steadiness comes from. When I lose sight of that quiet center, I get carried by every passing thought.

Yet the moment I remember, just remember, that I am the one aware of my thinking, not the thinking itself, everything softens. The waves do not need to stop; I simply do not have to ride each one.

The mind can be noisy. But Mind, the deeper intelligence that gave rise to life itself, is always calm, patient, and steady. Like the deep ocean beneath the surface, it is never disturbed by the weather above.

When I rest there, direction returns on its own.
The sea does not need my control to be beautiful, only my willingness to notice the still water beneath the waves.

Enjoy a story

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Agent Mirabelle and the Case of the Missing Agents

Now, if you’ve never met Agent Mirabelle, let me tell you - she might look like a sweet little baby with fuzzy hair and a gummy smile, but don’t let that fool you. She’s one of the youngest secret agents I’ve ever known. Highly trained in stealth crawling, expert-level babbling, and undercover snack retrieval. Her pacifier isn’t just for comfort , oh no, it doubles as a top-secret communicator to headquarters.

One sunny morning, while the birds were barely warming up their voices outside the window, Agent Mirabelle blinked her sleepy eyes open. Something felt wrong. Her crib was quiet. The air felt suspiciously calm. That’s when her tiny agent instincts kicked in. Something, or someone, was missing.

She rolled onto her belly, eyes darting around the room. The stuffed animals were in formation, the night-light was still glowing, but her two most trusted partners, Agent A and Agent H, were nowhere to be found.

Her mouth opened into the smallest, most dramatic gasp a baby could manage.

“Agents… compromised,” she muttered through her pacifier.

Now, when you’re a professional baby agent, there’s no time to waste. Mirabelle rolled over twice, flopped out of her crib with a landing that would’ve impressed even the most seasoned stunt double, and popped up onto her feet, well mostly. Wobbly legs or not, she was on the move.

The mission had begun.

The Kitchen Operation

Mirabelle’s first stop was the kitchen. She crept in low, diaper squeaking only slightly with each step. Her eyes scanned the floor. Crumbs. A suspicious number of them. Toast crumbs. Maybe even bacon crumbs.

Her pacifier communicator glowed faintly.

“Hmm,” she thought, “they were here.”

A half-full sippy cup stood on the counter, filled with milk. She squinted. “A clue,” she whispered. “Or bait.”

Agent Mirabelle tapped the cup with one finger, then sniffed dramatically, just like she’d seen the dogs do.

No response.

She checked behind the trash can. Under the table. Even behind the curtain. Nothing. The kitchen was clean, too clean.

She scribbled an invisible note on her hand. “Possible abduction. Agents A and H missing. Crumbs suspicious. Proceeding to next location.”

The Living Room Stakeout

She tiptoed, well wobbled into the living room. The sunlight spilled across the carpet, highlighting a single squeaky toy lying in the middle of the floor. The sight made her freeze.

“The Squeaky Toy Syndicate,” she whispered.

That toy had a history. Nobody admitted to owning it, and yet it always reappeared in strange places. Once on the couch. Once in the bathtub. Once, mysteriously, in her diaper bag.

Her thoughts started spinning like the whirly part of her toy fan. What if the Syndicate had taken her partners? What if they’d been lured away by the promise of bacon? What if. and this was almost too terrible to think, they’d joined a rival cuddle squad?

Her breathing got faster. Her little fists clenched. She could feel her diaper puff up slightly as her body tensed, ready for a full baby-level panic.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” she murmured. “They’re gone forever! I’ll have to run the agency alone! I’ll need more snacks!”

But before the panic could fully take over, she heard something.

A sound from the hallway.

Footsteps. Heavy, grown-up footsteps. And then… the jingle.

The unmistakable jingle of two dog collars.

Agent Mirabelle spun toward the sound. Her pacifier dropped out of her mouth.

The Reunion

Bursting into the room came Agent Dad, followed closely by the two missing agents, tails wagging, tongues flopping, eyes wide with excitement.

Agent A was the first to reach her, sliding to a stop like a happy bowling ball with fur. Agent H followed, barking twice in code , probably something like, “Mission complete, baby secured!”

Mirabelle squealed. “Agents! You’re safe!”

Agent A immediately began licking her from chin to forehead, while Agent H wagged his tail so fast it looked like it might take flight. Mirabelle didn’t even mind the slobber. In her line of work, a little drool was the price of success.

“Where have you been?” she demanded in baby babble, pointing her finger like a miniature detective. “I had to initiate a full-scale search!”

Agent Dad chuckled. “They were just outside, Mirabelle. I let them in.”

Outside? Just outside? Her little eyebrows furrowed. All that dramatic investigating, the emotional roller coaster, the near diaper meltdown, and they were just outside the whole time?

Mirabelle blinked. Then, as realization sank in, she let out a giggle that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside.

The Debriefing

Later, after a very serious debriefing (which mostly involved tickles, giggles, and one mysteriously eaten crayon), the three agents settled down for a well-earned nap.

Agent Mirabelle lay between her two furry partners, her pacifier back in place, her thoughts finally quiet. She looked from one sleepy dog to the other and smiled.

It was funny, really. A few minutes ago, she’d been convinced the world was falling apart. But it hadn’t been the world at all. Qit was just her thoughts running wild. Her imagination had turned a quiet morning into a full-blown mystery movie, complete with dramatic plot twists and daring rescues.

And now? Now everything was peaceful again. The kind of peaceful that happens when you realize you never really lost anything in the first place.

As her eyelids grew heavy, she gave one last whisper into her pacifier communicator.

“Mission accomplished,” she said. “All agents accounted for. Over and out.”

The room grew still. The sun beamed through the curtains. And for a while, the world, or at least that little corner of it, was perfectly calm.

Three Principles in Action

1. Mind – The calm, wise part of Mirabelle was there all along, quietly waiting behind her busy baby thoughts. When she settled down, she could feel that inner calm again, the same gentle intelligence that guides us all when we’re not tangled up in thinking.

2. Consciousness – As Mirabelle focused on her scary thoughts, her imagination brought them to life. Her awareness made the story of the “Squeaky Toy Syndicate” feel completely real. That’s the magic of Consciousness, it turns invisible thoughts into real-feeling experiences.

3. Thought – Every idea that popped into Mirabelle’s head, from bacon traps to rival cuddle squads, shaped what she felt. The moment she believed those thoughts, she felt afraid. The moment she saw they were just thoughts, the fear disappeared like bubbles in the bath.

Final Thought

It’s amazing how our minds can turn a simple moment into a grand adventure. One minute you’re sure the world’s falling apart, and the next you realize everything’s perfectly fine. Thoughts are sneaky like that, they can dress up as truth and make us feel things that aren’t really happening.

But the good news is, just like Agent Mirabelle discovered, peace is never lost. It’s just waiting underneath the noise of our thinking.

And sometimes, all it takes to find it again… is a nap, a giggle, and a couple of very slobbery dogs.

An Invitation to Explore

Where All Our Stories Begin: The Three Principles

Welcome to Stories from the Workshop. This is where ideas come to life, surrounded by sawdust, paint splatters, and the smell of fresh coffee. It is also where quiet insights often sneak up on me while I am working on something else entirely. Before we dive into the stories that fill these shelves, I want to share the foundation that every one of them stands on.

It is something simple but powerful. Something that changed the way I see life, and the way I write these stories for children and for the child that still lives in each of us.

That something is called The Three Principles.

The Simplicity Behind Everything

The Three Principles are not a theory or a technique. They simply describe how every human experience is created from the inside out.

Mind, Consciousness, and Thought.

Those three words may sound ordinary at first, but together they explain something extraordinary about life.

Mind is the quiet wisdom behind everything. It is the energy and intelligence that keeps the world turning and our hearts beating. It is always available, guiding us even when we are not listening.

Consciousness is what allows us to experience life. It brings our inner world to life so we can see, hear, and feel everything that unfolds in each moment.

Thought is how we create our experience. It is like a paintbrush that colors the world we see. What we think, we feel, and through that feeling the world looks real to us.

When kids start to see this, something amazing happens. They begin to notice that their feelings are not being caused by what is happening around them. Their feelings are being shaped by the thoughts moving through their minds in that very moment.

That realization is freeing. It means they are never stuck. A new thought can always come along, and with it, a brand-new feeling.

Why It Matters

Every Thought Explorers story is built on this simple understanding. These tales are not about teaching kids to think positive or to fix their emotions. They are about helping them see that their experience of life is coming from within.

When a child understands that their thoughts are the source of what they feel, the world softens. Big emotions do not seem so scary. Worries lose their grip. What was once a storm becomes a passing cloud.

And underneath all of it, they discover something constant. Peace. Wisdom. Joy. It was there all along, waiting quietly for them to notice.

An Invitation to Explore

My hope is that Stories from the Workshop becomes a place for reflection and discovery. A place to see life through new eyes, just like the kids in these stories do.

So pull up a chair. There is sawdust on the floor, a mug of coffee on the workbench, and plenty of room for new ideas. Together we can explore how the Three Principles shine through the everyday moments of life, reminding us that calm, creativity, and connection are always within reach.

Because that is where all our stories truly begin.