Another Journey Awaits

Once upon a time, there was a little girl with an adventurous spirit who dreamed of far-off places late at night. She created stories in her head that felt so real and called to her strongly she almost had no choice but to act upon them. Her soul longed for high peaks, for a view of the green valley below and a clear, blue sky over her head.

Twice the little girl went searching for the creatures from her fantasy, finding herself on mountaintops and having to be rescued by kindly neighbors or brave firefighters. She only wished to see the beast from her dream. She was sure she’d find it if she climbed high enough, and every night she told herself the story again, longing for something just out of reach.

The little girl is me, and I've never stopped searching.

My tale goes like this:

Early one day, on a bright, spring morning, a little girl awakes in her cottage bedroom. The sun shines through the window, lighting up the curtains and the walls, bringing the dust alive to dance before her eyes. The sweet smell of daisies bring a smile to the girl’s face.

Upon waking each day, the girl would go to her window, and today is no different. She smells the flowers on the sill before turning her gaze to the mountains rising from the valley like a gentle giant. A sea of vibrant trees ride the slopes like waves.

She enters the kitchen, and being the clever girl she was, noticed her mother was already busy fussing over her infant brother, whose chubby legs are already covered in a thick layer of mud. She grins and slips out the door, carrying her shoes in one hand.

The road she walks is well-traveled, and her feet feel few stones beneath them. The small evergreens guard the path like centries, their branches saluting her bravery and their shade cooling her skin. They grow taller and more regal as she approaches the mountain, and the trail curves upward, leading her ever higher.

When the sun is directly overhead, she stops in a meadow to rest and dips her feet in the crisp water of the stream. Miniscule fish with silver scales chew on her feet, making her giggle. The grass brushes against her skin and the wildflower blossoms fill the air with a floral scent. Then, laying down in the soft brush, she quickly falls asleep.

Her eyelids flutter when she hears an unfamiliar sound, the cry of a bird she’s never heard in the daytime. When she opens her eyes, she sees the sky has turned gray and the night’s first stars are twinkling. She knows she has little time left to reach her destination, so she bolts up and makes her way to the footpath, lit now by the orange and red rays of a tired sun.

The shadows grow longer as the sun falls behind the hills. The trees, which once looked like brave soldiers, look like fearsome creatures with claws raised to strike her. When the darkness overtakes her sight completely, she sits in the path and cries.

With her head buried in her knees, she almost doesn’t notice the great light rising behind her, but lucky for this little girl, she does. First, she looks at her hands, full of tears that sparkle like jewels. Then, she turns around and sees the radiant face of the Moon.

“Are you here to help me?” she asks. The Moon doesn’t respond out loud, but she can feel its answer in her heart. She stands, dusts off her dress and legs, and begins the long journey home.

With the darkness cast away, the world is new again. The stream shimmers, and the grass glistens with dew. The black branches, once threatening, now wave, directing her back home. Small animals bound through the fields, heard but unseen.

When she is close to home, she sees the candles are still lit, and her mother sits in the rocking chair on the porch. Despite her weary legs, she runs the rest of the way home, letting the chill air wipe the tears from her face. Finally, she’s warm in her mother’s arms.

Her mother is angry that the little girl wandered so far, but she hums and tucks her into bed instead of scolding her. Her mother strokes her hair and whispers goodnight, and the little girl closes her eyes. She hasn’t found the creature that’s been calling to her, but there is always tomorrow. Another journey awaits.

The End.

Of course, my mother often told me bedtime stories about cats that solved crimes or children who saved their families from mischievous poltergeists. I cherish these moments with her and the tales she concocted. That might be why I learned to love exploring and creating stories of my own. She instilled in me a belief that tomorrow will always bring a new challenge, lesson, or adventure.

Another journey awaits.