A story
Tala and the Baby Sea Turtles' Moonlit Walk
Every summer, Tala went to stay with Aunt Rasha in her little white house by the sea. The house had a blue door, a porch with a wooden swing, and a garden full of pink flowers that grew right down to the sand.
Tala loved everything about the beach. She loved building sandcastles with seashell windows. She loved chasing the foamy waves and running away before they caught her toes. She loved the salty smell of the wind and the sound of the sea, shhhh, shhhh, all day and all night.
On the second day of her visit, Aunt Rasha took her for a walk along the beach. Near the dunes, where the grass grew tall, there was a small circle of sticks with a ribbon tied around it.
"What's that?" asked Tala.
"That," said Aunt Rasha, kneeling down, "is a sea turtle nest."
Tala's eyes went wide. "A real one?"
"A real one," said Aunt Rasha. "Many weeks ago, a mother sea turtle came out of the sea one night. She dug a deep hole in the sand with her flippers and laid her eggs inside. Then she covered them up and went back to the ocean. The sun has kept the eggs warm ever since. Soon, the baby turtles will hatch."
"When?" asked Tala, bouncing on her toes.
"Any night now," said Aunt Rasha. "Baby turtles usually come out when it's dark and cool. Then they walk down the beach to the sea."
"How do they know which way to go?" asked Tala.
Aunt Rasha smiled. "That's the clever part. They look for the brightest light. On a natural beach at night, the brightest thing is the moon and the stars shining on the water. So the babies walk toward the shimmer, and it leads them to the sea."
Every evening after that, Tala and Aunt Rasha walked down to the nest after dinner and waited quietly for a while. On the first night, nothing happened. On the second night, nothing happened either. Tala was a little disappointed, but Aunt Rasha said, "Turtles take their time. They come when they're ready."
On the fifth night, the moon was big and round and silver. Its light made a long, shining path across the dark water.
Tala and Aunt Rasha sat on a blanket near the nest. Tala held a small red flashlight, the kind that wouldn't bother the animals. The sea whispered, shhhh, shhhh.
Then Tala saw something.
The sand in the middle of the nest was moving. Just a little. It wiggled. It sank. And then a tiny head popped out.
It was a baby sea turtle! It was no bigger than Tala's palm. It had a little dark shell, two round black eyes, and four tiny flippers that waved in the air.
"Aunt Rasha," whispered Tala, "look!"
Another head popped out. And another. Soon, the nest was bubbling with baby turtles, climbing over each other, wriggling out of the sand.
"Stay very still and quiet," whispered Aunt Rasha. "Let them find their way."
The baby turtles began to crawl. Flip, flop, flip, flop went their tiny flippers on the sand. Most of them headed toward the moonlit sea.
But then Tala noticed something.
A few of the baby turtles were turning around. They were crawling the wrong way, away from the water, up toward the dunes. Toward the houses.
Tala looked behind her. On the porch of Aunt Rasha's house, the bright porch light was on. It shone yellow and strong over the garden and the sand. And next door, the neighbor's windows were glowing bright too.
"Aunt Rasha," said Tala, "the babies think the porch light is the moon!"
Aunt Rasha gasped softly. "You're right. I forgot to turn it off. Quickly, Tala, come with me. Walk carefully."
They hurried up the beach, stepping very gently and watching every step so they didn't come near the little turtles. Aunt Rasha switched off the porch light. Click.
The garden went dark and quiet.
Then Tala saw the neighbor's bright windows. "What about those?" she asked.
Aunt Rasha knocked softly on the neighbor's door. An old man named Mr. Habib opened it, wearing his slippers.
"The turtles are hatching," Aunt Rasha said. "Would you mind closing your curtains, just for a little while?"
Mr. Habib's face lit up. "Hatching! Of course!" He pulled the curtains closed, then switched off his lights and came out onto the sand to watch too.
Now the beach was dark, except for the big silver moon and its shining path on the water.
Tala crouched down and watched. The baby turtles who had been heading the wrong way stopped. They lifted their tiny heads. They looked around.
Then, one by one, they turned toward the sea.
Flip, flop, flip, flop.
They crawled down the sand, past the shells and the seaweed, toward the moonlight. They left tiny tracks behind them, like little zigzag stitches.
The first baby reached the edge of the water. A small wave rolled in, and the turtle was lifted up and carried away. Then another wave came, and another turtle disappeared into the sea.
Tala held her breath as the very last baby turtle, the smallest one, waddled toward the water. It was slower than the others. It stopped once to rest.
"Come on, little one," Tala whispered. "You can do it."
The tiny turtle kept going. Flip, flop. Flip, flop. And at last, a gentle wave rolled up, wrapped around it, and carried it into the silver sea.
Tala let out her breath. "They all made it," she said.
"They did," said Aunt Rasha, putting her arm around her. "Because you noticed. A light is such a small thing. But turning it off made the whole beach right for them."
Mr. Habib nodded. "I'll keep my curtains closed every night during turtle season from now on," he said.
That night, before bed, Tala looked out of her window at the dark beach and the shining sea. Somewhere out there, the baby turtles were swimming through the moonlit waves, beginning their very first adventure.
"Goodnight, little turtles," she whispered. And she switched off her own lamp, just in case.
Tala loved everything about the beach. She loved building sandcastles with seashell windows. She loved chasing the foamy waves and running away before they caught her toes. She loved the salty smell of the wind and the sound of the sea, shhhh, shhhh, all day and all night.
On the second day of her visit, Aunt Rasha took her for a walk along the beach. Near the dunes, where the grass grew tall, there was a small circle of sticks with a ribbon tied around it.
"What's that?" asked Tala.
"That," said Aunt Rasha, kneeling down, "is a sea turtle nest."
Tala's eyes went wide. "A real one?"
"A real one," said Aunt Rasha. "Many weeks ago, a mother sea turtle came out of the sea one night. She dug a deep hole in the sand with her flippers and laid her eggs inside. Then she covered them up and went back to the ocean. The sun has kept the eggs warm ever since. Soon, the baby turtles will hatch."
"When?" asked Tala, bouncing on her toes.
"Any night now," said Aunt Rasha. "Baby turtles usually come out when it's dark and cool. Then they walk down the beach to the sea."
"How do they know which way to go?" asked Tala.
Aunt Rasha smiled. "That's the clever part. They look for the brightest light. On a natural beach at night, the brightest thing is the moon and the stars shining on the water. So the babies walk toward the shimmer, and it leads them to the sea."
Every evening after that, Tala and Aunt Rasha walked down to the nest after dinner and waited quietly for a while. On the first night, nothing happened. On the second night, nothing happened either. Tala was a little disappointed, but Aunt Rasha said, "Turtles take their time. They come when they're ready."
On the fifth night, the moon was big and round and silver. Its light made a long, shining path across the dark water.
Tala and Aunt Rasha sat on a blanket near the nest. Tala held a small red flashlight, the kind that wouldn't bother the animals. The sea whispered, shhhh, shhhh.
Then Tala saw something.
The sand in the middle of the nest was moving. Just a little. It wiggled. It sank. And then a tiny head popped out.
It was a baby sea turtle! It was no bigger than Tala's palm. It had a little dark shell, two round black eyes, and four tiny flippers that waved in the air.
"Aunt Rasha," whispered Tala, "look!"
Another head popped out. And another. Soon, the nest was bubbling with baby turtles, climbing over each other, wriggling out of the sand.
"Stay very still and quiet," whispered Aunt Rasha. "Let them find their way."
The baby turtles began to crawl. Flip, flop, flip, flop went their tiny flippers on the sand. Most of them headed toward the moonlit sea.
But then Tala noticed something.
A few of the baby turtles were turning around. They were crawling the wrong way, away from the water, up toward the dunes. Toward the houses.
Tala looked behind her. On the porch of Aunt Rasha's house, the bright porch light was on. It shone yellow and strong over the garden and the sand. And next door, the neighbor's windows were glowing bright too.
"Aunt Rasha," said Tala, "the babies think the porch light is the moon!"
Aunt Rasha gasped softly. "You're right. I forgot to turn it off. Quickly, Tala, come with me. Walk carefully."
They hurried up the beach, stepping very gently and watching every step so they didn't come near the little turtles. Aunt Rasha switched off the porch light. Click.
The garden went dark and quiet.
Then Tala saw the neighbor's bright windows. "What about those?" she asked.
Aunt Rasha knocked softly on the neighbor's door. An old man named Mr. Habib opened it, wearing his slippers.
"The turtles are hatching," Aunt Rasha said. "Would you mind closing your curtains, just for a little while?"
Mr. Habib's face lit up. "Hatching! Of course!" He pulled the curtains closed, then switched off his lights and came out onto the sand to watch too.
Now the beach was dark, except for the big silver moon and its shining path on the water.
Tala crouched down and watched. The baby turtles who had been heading the wrong way stopped. They lifted their tiny heads. They looked around.
Then, one by one, they turned toward the sea.
Flip, flop, flip, flop.
They crawled down the sand, past the shells and the seaweed, toward the moonlight. They left tiny tracks behind them, like little zigzag stitches.
The first baby reached the edge of the water. A small wave rolled in, and the turtle was lifted up and carried away. Then another wave came, and another turtle disappeared into the sea.
Tala held her breath as the very last baby turtle, the smallest one, waddled toward the water. It was slower than the others. It stopped once to rest.
"Come on, little one," Tala whispered. "You can do it."
The tiny turtle kept going. Flip, flop. Flip, flop. And at last, a gentle wave rolled up, wrapped around it, and carried it into the silver sea.
Tala let out her breath. "They all made it," she said.
"They did," said Aunt Rasha, putting her arm around her. "Because you noticed. A light is such a small thing. But turning it off made the whole beach right for them."
Mr. Habib nodded. "I'll keep my curtains closed every night during turtle season from now on," he said.
That night, before bed, Tala looked out of her window at the dark beach and the shining sea. Somewhere out there, the baby turtles were swimming through the moonlit waves, beginning their very first adventure.
"Goodnight, little turtles," she whispered. And she switched off her own lamp, just in case.
