What’s the quietest thing a kid ever said to you?

Last week, a seven-year-old who’d been silent for three days finally spoke. Not a joke, not a complaint—just: 'I like the way the light hits the floor when it’s almost dark.' I didn’t know what to do with that. It felt like being handed a piece of glass that was warm from the sun. I’ve been wondering ever since—what other tiny things are kids holding onto that never get said?