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Mara watches white moths gather around the warm golden light shining from the open round door in the old tree.A LITTLE WORLD AWAITS
Magic & wonder

Mara and the Moonlight Pocket

Get comfy, come a little closer, and let a new adventure unfold.

3 min readAge 3+6 pages
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Mara and the Moonlight Pocket

Mara stands beside her bed on a rainy evening, placing a pebble, red leaf, and feather into the deep pocket of her blue coat.

Mara had a blue coat with one deep pocket. Each evening, before bed, she tucked in one small treasure: a smooth pebble, a red leaf, or a tiny feather from the garden. “Good night, treasure,” she whispered.

On a rainy porch, Mara kneels and looks closely at a small glowing silver bell in her hands.

One rainy evening, beside the porch step, Mara found a silver bell no bigger than her thumb. It would not ring when she shook it. Instead, it gave a soft glow, like moonlight on a spoon.

Mara walks down a dark hall with a glow in her coat pocket while a small white moth flutters outside the open window near wet roses.

Mara slipped it into her pocket. On her way to bed, the glow shone brighter and brighter. It pointed down the hall to the open window. Outside, a small white moth fluttered round and round a wet rosebush.

Mara holds out the silver bell for a white moth in the rainy garden as a pale glowing path leads to a round door in an old tree.

“Are you looking for this?” Mara asked. She held out the bell. The moth landed on it. Ting! The bell chimed, and a pale path of light stretched over the grass to a little round door at the bottom of the old tree.

Mara sits on the dry porch and gently shelters the small white moth in both hands, with the glowing bell beside her.

Mara wanted to follow the path. But rain dripped from the leaves, and the moth looked cold. She gently carried it in both hands to the dry porch. Then she set the bell beside it.

Mara watches white moths gather around the warm golden light shining from the open round door in the old tree.

The moth opened its wings. Ting! The little door swung open. Warm golden light shone from inside the tree, and more white moths floated out, slow and soft as snowflakes. They circled Mara once, then followed their friend through the door.

Before bed, Mara tucked the quiet bell into her blue pocket beside a smooth pebble. It was not hers to keep. Tomorrow, she would return it to the tree. Under her blanket, she heard one tiny sound from the garden: ting. Mara smiled and closed her eyes.