📖 Story
In a small house with a big window looking out at the sky lived a little girl named Lama. Lama's hair was curly, like tiny rings of wool, and she liked to twist a curl around her finger whenever she was thinking. That night Lama put on her pink pajamas covered in little white butterflies, drank her cup of warm milk, brushed her teeth well, and jumped into bed. At the end of the bed her orange cat, Mishmisha, was already asleep, curled up like a soft ball, her tail covering her tiny nose.
Lama's mother came in, kissed her on the forehead, tucked the blanket around her and said, "Good night, my little moon." Lama smiled and said, "Good night to you too, Mama." Her mother switched off the big light, left the curtain open a little, just the way Lama liked it, and quietly went out. Lama closed her eyes and counted: one, two, three. But she did not fall asleep. She opened one eye, then the other, and looked at the window. There, in the dark blue sky, was the moon, round and big, shining like a silver plate, and it looked as if it were smiling at her.
"Good evening, Moon!" Lama whispered. Suddenly a soft grey cloud drifted by and covered the whole moon, and the room grew darker. Lama sat up in bed. "Where did you go, Moon?" She waited a little, and then the moon came out from behind the cloud and shone again. Lama laughed and clapped her small hands. "Found you! Found you!" Then another cloud came, and the moon hid a second time. "Oh, I get it!" said Lama. "You're playing hide-and-seek with me! One, two, three... where are you?" And the moon came out again, and Lama laughed even louder.
Mishmisha stirred at the end of the bed, lifted her head, half-opened her green eyes and said, "Meow?" as if asking, "What is all this noise at bedtime?" "Mishmisha, look!" said Lama. "The moon is playing with me. It hides and then it comes back!" The cat looked at the window for a moment, gave a long yawn, stretched all four legs, and went right back to sleep. "What a lazy cat you are!" said Lama. But Lama's eyes were not lazy at all. They were wide open, waiting for the moon every time it disappeared.
Lama tried to fall asleep another way. She laid her head on the pillow, pulled the blanket up to her nose, and told herself, "I'll count the stars instead of counting numbers." She began to count: a tiny star here, a shiny star there, and two stars close together like two sisters holding hands. But every time she reached five stars, she lifted her head to see whether the moon had come out or was still hiding. Then she picked up her brown cotton teddy bear, held it up toward the window and said, "Look, Teddy, we're going to play with the moon together!" And so sleep drifted farther and farther away from Lama, and her bed became a little playground instead of a place to rest.
Lama kept playing, counting and laughing, until her father heard her from the next room. He opened the door quietly, came in smiling, and sat at the end of the bed beside Mishmisha. "Still awake, Lama?" he asked. "Baba, the moon is playing hide-and-seek with me!" Lama said excitedly. "Every time a cloud comes, it hides behind it, and then it comes out to say, 'Here I am!'" Her father looked at the window and said, "That's true, the moon does look as if it's playing. But do you know why the clouds pass in front of it so slowly?" Lama shook her head. "No, why?"
In a warm voice her father said, "At night the clouds move very slowly because they are tired from travelling all day. In the morning they carried shade for the people in the park, and rain for the trees and the flowers. Now they walk gently, like a soft blanket being pulled across the sky. And when they pass in front of the moon, they are not hiding it to play. They are covering it gently, the way your mother tucks your blanket around you before you sleep." Lama's mouth fell open in surprise. "So the cloud is telling the moon good night?" Her father laughed. "Exactly, my darling."
"But the moon comes out again, so it isn't sleeping!" said Lama. "The moon stays up a little while," said her father, "to light the way for the birds flying home to their nests, for the ships on the faraway sea, and for little cats looking for their homes. But when it gets tired, it rests behind the clouds too, and its light becomes soft and calm. And in the morning the sun comes, and the moon goes off for a long sleep. Everything in this world needs rest: the moon, the clouds, the birds, Mishmisha, and you too, Lama."
Lama looked at Mishmisha sleeping and saw her little tummy rising and falling slowly, and she heard her soft purring: purr, purr. Then she looked at the clouds and saw them drifting quietly, and she saw the moon glowing behind them with a dim, gentle light. "Baba, I think the moon is a little tired," said Lama. "And I think your eyes are a little tired too," said her father. Lama rubbed her eyes and gave a small yawn, then giggled. "I'm yawning like Mishmisha!" "That's because your body is telling you, 'It's time to rest, Lama,'" said her father.
"Can I say good night to the moon?" asked Lama. "Of course, let's do it together," said her father. Lama waved her little hand toward the window and said softly, "Good night, Moon. Good night, clouds. Good night, birds." Then she patted Mishmisha's back and said, "Good night, Mishmisha." The cat shifted a little, moved closer to Lama's feet, and curled up there like a warm cushion. Her father smiled, tucked the blanket around Lama, and kissed her cheek.
Then Lama asked one last question. "Baba, does the moon sleep all alone? Isn't it scared?" Her father said, "The moon is never alone. Around it are many stars twinkling like little lamps, the clouds pass by and cover it, and the gentle wind sings to it. And you are not alone either. Mama and Baba are in the next room, Mishmisha is at your feet, and Teddy is in your arms." Lama smiled, hugged her teddy bear to her chest, and felt safe and warm.
"Now I'll tell you a little secret," said her father. "When you close your eyes, imagine you are a soft white cloud drifting slowly across the sky, breathing slowly: a long breath in... and a long breath out." Lama closed her eyes and imagined she was a light cloud, floating over the houses and the trees, passing beside the moon, who smiled at her, and listening to the birds singing a sleepy song. She took a long breath in, then let it out slowly. She felt her hands grow heavy, her legs grow warm, and her bed become as soft as a real cloud.
Her father tiptoed out and left the door open a little. In the sky a big, calm cloud drifted by and gently covered the moon, and this time Lama did not open her eyes to look for it. She knew it was there, resting behind the cloud, and that it would be back in its place the next night. In the morning Lama woke up full of energy and happiness. She ran to the window, saw the sun laughing in the sky, and said, "Good morning, Sun! I think the moon slept well, just like me."
And so Lama learned that night is not a time for playing, but a time when every creature rests: the moon, the clouds, the birds, the cats and the children. When we go to sleep early and rest well, we wake up in the morning strong and happy, ready to play and learn. So if you see the moon hiding behind the clouds, tell it kindly, "Good night," then close your eyes and sleep peacefully.
Lama's mother came in, kissed her on the forehead, tucked the blanket around her and said, "Good night, my little moon." Lama smiled and said, "Good night to you too, Mama." Her mother switched off the big light, left the curtain open a little, just the way Lama liked it, and quietly went out. Lama closed her eyes and counted: one, two, three. But she did not fall asleep. She opened one eye, then the other, and looked at the window. There, in the dark blue sky, was the moon, round and big, shining like a silver plate, and it looked as if it were smiling at her.
"Good evening, Moon!" Lama whispered. Suddenly a soft grey cloud drifted by and covered the whole moon, and the room grew darker. Lama sat up in bed. "Where did you go, Moon?" She waited a little, and then the moon came out from behind the cloud and shone again. Lama laughed and clapped her small hands. "Found you! Found you!" Then another cloud came, and the moon hid a second time. "Oh, I get it!" said Lama. "You're playing hide-and-seek with me! One, two, three... where are you?" And the moon came out again, and Lama laughed even louder.
Mishmisha stirred at the end of the bed, lifted her head, half-opened her green eyes and said, "Meow?" as if asking, "What is all this noise at bedtime?" "Mishmisha, look!" said Lama. "The moon is playing with me. It hides and then it comes back!" The cat looked at the window for a moment, gave a long yawn, stretched all four legs, and went right back to sleep. "What a lazy cat you are!" said Lama. But Lama's eyes were not lazy at all. They were wide open, waiting for the moon every time it disappeared.
Lama tried to fall asleep another way. She laid her head on the pillow, pulled the blanket up to her nose, and told herself, "I'll count the stars instead of counting numbers." She began to count: a tiny star here, a shiny star there, and two stars close together like two sisters holding hands. But every time she reached five stars, she lifted her head to see whether the moon had come out or was still hiding. Then she picked up her brown cotton teddy bear, held it up toward the window and said, "Look, Teddy, we're going to play with the moon together!" And so sleep drifted farther and farther away from Lama, and her bed became a little playground instead of a place to rest.
Lama kept playing, counting and laughing, until her father heard her from the next room. He opened the door quietly, came in smiling, and sat at the end of the bed beside Mishmisha. "Still awake, Lama?" he asked. "Baba, the moon is playing hide-and-seek with me!" Lama said excitedly. "Every time a cloud comes, it hides behind it, and then it comes out to say, 'Here I am!'" Her father looked at the window and said, "That's true, the moon does look as if it's playing. But do you know why the clouds pass in front of it so slowly?" Lama shook her head. "No, why?"
In a warm voice her father said, "At night the clouds move very slowly because they are tired from travelling all day. In the morning they carried shade for the people in the park, and rain for the trees and the flowers. Now they walk gently, like a soft blanket being pulled across the sky. And when they pass in front of the moon, they are not hiding it to play. They are covering it gently, the way your mother tucks your blanket around you before you sleep." Lama's mouth fell open in surprise. "So the cloud is telling the moon good night?" Her father laughed. "Exactly, my darling."
"But the moon comes out again, so it isn't sleeping!" said Lama. "The moon stays up a little while," said her father, "to light the way for the birds flying home to their nests, for the ships on the faraway sea, and for little cats looking for their homes. But when it gets tired, it rests behind the clouds too, and its light becomes soft and calm. And in the morning the sun comes, and the moon goes off for a long sleep. Everything in this world needs rest: the moon, the clouds, the birds, Mishmisha, and you too, Lama."
Lama looked at Mishmisha sleeping and saw her little tummy rising and falling slowly, and she heard her soft purring: purr, purr. Then she looked at the clouds and saw them drifting quietly, and she saw the moon glowing behind them with a dim, gentle light. "Baba, I think the moon is a little tired," said Lama. "And I think your eyes are a little tired too," said her father. Lama rubbed her eyes and gave a small yawn, then giggled. "I'm yawning like Mishmisha!" "That's because your body is telling you, 'It's time to rest, Lama,'" said her father.
"Can I say good night to the moon?" asked Lama. "Of course, let's do it together," said her father. Lama waved her little hand toward the window and said softly, "Good night, Moon. Good night, clouds. Good night, birds." Then she patted Mishmisha's back and said, "Good night, Mishmisha." The cat shifted a little, moved closer to Lama's feet, and curled up there like a warm cushion. Her father smiled, tucked the blanket around Lama, and kissed her cheek.
Then Lama asked one last question. "Baba, does the moon sleep all alone? Isn't it scared?" Her father said, "The moon is never alone. Around it are many stars twinkling like little lamps, the clouds pass by and cover it, and the gentle wind sings to it. And you are not alone either. Mama and Baba are in the next room, Mishmisha is at your feet, and Teddy is in your arms." Lama smiled, hugged her teddy bear to her chest, and felt safe and warm.
"Now I'll tell you a little secret," said her father. "When you close your eyes, imagine you are a soft white cloud drifting slowly across the sky, breathing slowly: a long breath in... and a long breath out." Lama closed her eyes and imagined she was a light cloud, floating over the houses and the trees, passing beside the moon, who smiled at her, and listening to the birds singing a sleepy song. She took a long breath in, then let it out slowly. She felt her hands grow heavy, her legs grow warm, and her bed become as soft as a real cloud.
Her father tiptoed out and left the door open a little. In the sky a big, calm cloud drifted by and gently covered the moon, and this time Lama did not open her eyes to look for it. She knew it was there, resting behind the cloud, and that it would be back in its place the next night. In the morning Lama woke up full of energy and happiness. She ran to the window, saw the sun laughing in the sky, and said, "Good morning, Sun! I think the moon slept well, just like me."
And so Lama learned that night is not a time for playing, but a time when every creature rests: the moon, the clouds, the birds, the cats and the children. When we go to sleep early and rest well, we wake up in the morning strong and happy, ready to play and learn. So if you see the moon hiding behind the clouds, tell it kindly, "Good night," then close your eyes and sleep peacefully.
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