Mia and the Moon's Lullaby

High up in her cozy attic bedroom, Elsie always looked out the round window before climbing under the covers. Usually, the great pale sphere in the sky was half-closed, drowsy, and ready to rest. But tonight, Elsie paused with her toothbrush in hand. The Moon’s silver face was round, bright, and staring wide awake with two shiny, worried eyes.

"Something is definitely upside down up there," Elsie whispered.

She turned toward the corner where her Dream-Glider rested. The glider was a polished wooden cart shaped like a crescent slice of melon, fitted with two sturdy bicycle pedals and a pair of wide, silver-feathered wings. Elsie slipped on her wool slippers, pocketed a pocketful of peppermint drops, and climbed aboard. With three quick pushes of the pedals, the feathered wings caught the attic breeze. Whoosh! Out through the wide-open skylight she sailed, climbing right up into the cool night air.

Up and up Elsie pedaled, gliding over dark rooftops and wispy clouds until the air turned crisp and quiet. Before long, her wooden wheels touched down with a soft crunch on sparkling white dust. She had landed on the Moon itself.

Sitting on the edge of a shallow crater, scratching his silvery chin, was old Mr. Moon. He looked as round and kind as a fresh sugar cookie, but dark shadows circled beneath his eyes.

"Good evening, young traveler," Mr. Moon said in a slow, weary rumble. "I do hope you are supposed to be in bed."

Elsie hopped out of the glider and bowed politely. "I came to check on you, sir. You look completely exhausted, yet your eyes are wide as dinner plates."

Mr. Moon sighed, and a shower of powdery glitter floated over his silver slippers. "I have a terrible predicament, Elsie. For hundreds of years, I have watched the foxes curl into their dens, the sparrows tuck their heads beneath their wings, and the children drift off into dreamland. But tonight, when my own bedtime arrived... I simply forgot how to do it. I forgot how to fall asleep!"

Elsie tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, what usually helps you feel sleepy?"

"Comfort," Mr. Moon murmured. "A heavy blanket and a quiet sound. But I have neither, and my head feels so terribly loud."

Elsie looked around the dusty, rocky landscape. There were no blankets here, only craters and cold stones. Then she noticed thick ribbons of purplish evening vapor drifting lazily through the lower sky just below them.

"The twilight mist!" Elsie said.

She ran back to her Dream-Glider, seized the silver reins, and pedaled along the crater's rim, tilting the glider's feathered wings so they acted like giant scoops. Round and round she circled, her wings gathering the purple mist until it spun together, dense and fluffy as wool. Working quickly with her hands, Elsie smoothed the edges until she held a magnificent blanket of cool, violet twilight.

She carried the misty quilt over to the crater and draped it right up to Mr. Moon's round chin.

"Oh, my," Mr. Moon whispered, his shoulders relaxing. "That is wonderfully cool and soft. But my mind is still spinning like a top."

"That is because you need the second half," Elsie said. She sat down on the moon dust beside his ear, pulled her knees to her chest, and began to sing the gentle lullaby her mother sang whenever thunder rolled outside.

"Sail the silver river, close your sleepy eyes, Rest beneath the blanket of the quiet skies..."

Her voice drifted across the glittering craters. Slowly, ever so slowly, the wide eyes began to flutter. Old Mr. Moon let out a deep, rumbling breath that sounded like a distant wave washing over pebbles. His great round eyelids sank down, down, down, until they clicked shut into two peaceful crescents.

Mr. Moon was fast asleep at last.

Elsie tiptoed back to her Dream-Glider. She pushed off into the stillness and coasted all the way down, sliding right through her attic window. Crawling into her own warm bed, she pulled up her patchwork quilt. High above, the gentle crescent glowed softly in the dark, resting peacefully until morning.