Once upon a time, in a toy maker’s workshop, there was a little tin soldier with just one leg. His other leg hadn't been molded right, but he stood tall and proud anyway, balancing perfectly. The other toys admired him—they said he had courage in his one tiny tin foot. But the soldier had one secret: he was deeply curious about the ballerina on the shelf nearby. She stood on one leg, just like him, her paper-thin tutu shining in the sunlight. "Maybe she's just like me," he thought, but how could he ever meet her when he was stuck on the table?

One day, the wind swept through the workshop, knocking the soldier off the table and onto the floor. He landed with a clatter but didn’t complain. "A soldier never cries!" he declared, brushing himself off. Before he could get back to his table, two mischievous children spotted him. "Hey! Let’s see if he floats!" they shouted. Before the soldier could protest, they popped him into a paper boat and sent him sailing down the stream outside.

At first, the soldier enjoyed the adventure. The stream carried him past flowers, frogs, and tall grasses that swayed like dancers. But soon the water sped up, and the little boat began to wobble. "Hold steady!" he shouted, gripping the edges. The stream pushed the soldier straight toward a dark, spooky tunnel. "Well, this is new," he muttered, trying to sound brave.

Inside the tunnel, a big fish spotted the shiny soldier and snapped him up in one gulp! "Why do these things always happen to me?" the soldier sighed from inside the fish’s belly. Luckily, the fish didn’t have long to enjoy its shiny snack. It was caught by a fisherwoman, who opened it up and exclaimed, "What’s this? A tin soldier?" She dusted him off and brought him back to the toy shop.

There, everything was just as the soldier remembered—except now he was placed right next to the ballerina! Her little face seemed to glow as she turned to him. "You’ve been on an adventure, haven’t you?" she asked. The soldier nodded, not sure how to explain everything. "I just wanted to meet you," he replied shyly. "I think we’re alike—you’re strong and graceful, and I try to be brave and steady."

But before the ballerina could answer, another gust of wind swept through the workshop. This time, it knocked over a candle, which lit the little soldier’s corner of the table. "Oh no!" shouted the ballerina. "We have to get out of here!"

The soldier, though, didn’t move. "You go," he said firmly. "I’ll hold the fire back until the other toys can get to safety." The ballerina hesitated, but she knew he meant it. She fluttered to safety while the soldier stayed behind, standing tall until the flames were extinguished by the toy maker.

The next morning, the tin soldier was a little scorched but still standing proudly in his spot. The ballerina smiled at him and said, "You really are steadfast!" The soldier didn’t reply, but inside, he was beaming with joy.

And so, the tin soldier learned that being brave doesn’t mean you don’t feel scared—it means standing strong anyway.