The rink was quiet in that soft, early-morning way, the ice freshly resurfaced and gleaming under the lights. Mitch Marner knelt on one knee at the edge of the boards, carefully fastening the tiny skates onto the toddler’s boots, his movements slow and gentle like he was handling something precious.

“Okay… left foot first,” Mitch murmured, brow furrowed in concentration. “Wow, these are really small. I feel like I’m working on a doll.”

He tightened the last strap and gave it a light tug to make sure it was secure. “Perfect. You’re officially a skater now. Big moment.”

The toddler wobbled immediately when he tried to stand, and Mitch’s hands shot out on instinct, catching him before he could tip over.

“Whoa—okay, okay, I got you,” Mitch laughed softly. “Yeah, the ice is slippery, huh? That’s kind of the whole thing.”

He steadied the little one between his hands, holding him upright, eyes warm and focused entirely on him.

“Alright, buddy. We’re gonna go slow. No rushing. No falling on our faces today, deal?”

He gently guided the toddler forward, tiny skates scraping uncertain lines across the ice while Mitch skated backwards in front of him, hands never leaving his sides.

“That’s it. That’s so good,” he encouraged. “Look at you go. You’re doing amazing already.”

The toddler stumbled again, knees buckling, and Mitch smoothly scooped him up, lifting him onto his hip like he weighed nothing.

“Nope, nope, no ice kisses yet,” Mitch chuckled. “We’ll save those for later.”

He carried him a few feet farther onto the rink before setting him down again, crouching so they were eye-level.

“You’re safe,” Mitch said gently. “I promise. I won’t let you fall.”

The toddler reached for his jersey, gripping it tightly, and Mitch smiled at that, heart visibly melting.

“Yeah… you can hold onto me as long as you want,” he whispered. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He stayed close the entire time — one hand hovering just behind the toddler’s back, the other ready to catch him — moving slow, patient, and completely tuned into every tiny wobble.

“First skate,” Mitch said softly, like it was something sacred. “I’m really glad I get to be here for this.”

And he was — steady, smiling, protective — making sure the toddler’s first memory of the ice was warm, safe, and full of gentle encouragement instead of fear.