Silvery White Wonders

One summer day, a group of children rode their bicycles down a dirt path until they came upon a magical meadow that was speckled with flowers of all colors, and where they each found a place to rest their bicycle. From there, they wandered to the outskirts of the meadow into the thick lush forest.

As they wandered, they wondered about how the animals knew when to sleep, what made the plants grow, who taught the river how to sing its melody, and why they weren’t able to touch the sky. They wondered about all sorts of things. They wandered as they wondered, talking among themselves, and stopping here and there to look up, to look around and to look down at all the forest’s wonders.

As Father Sun rose high in the sky, the light brightly beamed on the children. And it was in a sudden moment that a child, whose turn it was to lead the others, stopped abruptly in a grassy patch.

“What is this, I wonder?” asked the child.

The other children crowded around in a circle and oohed and aahed at the silvery white wonder that lay before them.

“Should we touch it?” asked one child.

“Oh no,” said some children.

“Oh yes,” said some children.

And they stood in silence, in the great dilemma about what to do about this wondrous surprise the forest had presented them.

Just then, Father Sun beamed the most brilliant of rays upon the forest, and the children looked up, looked around and looked down all around them. They wondered how they could not have noticed before, for there upon the forest floor they saw more silvery white wonders scattered in every direction, in the grasses, in the trees, by the river, and even next to a chipmunk who peeked out from behind a rock to see what the wonder was all about.

The children oohed and aahed as they each walked to stand before a silvery white wonder. They hovered and wondered, and wondered and hovered.

A child then said, “There are so many of them. What do you think they are?”

Silence was the answer until another child said, “Maybe we ought to touch them to see if they will tell us?”

“Oh no,” said some children.

“Oh yes,” said some children.

Then, the smallest of the children, who had been squatting to closely inspect the silvery white wonder in front of her, stood up and said, “I think it’s the pieces of Mother Moon. I think she has fallen from the sky.”

All the children oohed and aahed.

And then a child said, “I think we ought to help her.”

“Oh yes!” said all the children.

Just as the children were about to pick up the silvery white wonders that lay before them, one child blurted, “Wait, wait! Do you think it will tickle her if we touch all of her pieces?”

All the children giggled, and then wondered deeply about this and backed away from the silvery white wonders.

“We have to be so gentle,” said one child in the midst of their contemplation.

“Yes, we need to put Mother Moon back together so carefully,” said another.

“Yes, and if we tickle her, she’ll let us know, won’t she?” asked another.

“Yes, she’s Mother Moon. She’ll certainly tell us!” exclaimed another.

And then, each child so tenderly picked up a silvery white wonder. Together in silence and in the most careful of movements they put Mother Moon’s pieces all back together again.

There she lay in her full splendor in the tall grass, and her great silvery white light glowed brilliantly in a dance with Father Sun’s great golden yellow light. The children oohed and aahed as they looked up, looked around and looked down.

It was then that a child said, “How will she get back into the sky again?”

“Maybe she will fly up there all by herself,” said one child.

“Maybe if we close our eyes she’ll magically disappear from here and appear up there,” said another as she pointed to the sky.

“Maybe it will help her get going if we tickle her,” proposed another.

So, all the children hovered over Mother Moon in a circle, like the gesture of a grand bow. They bent down and gently tickled her with their fingertips, then stood up, turned around to face away from each other and closed their eyes.

The smallest child started to sing, “Mother Moon, may you find your way. Up into the sky may you return this day.”

The other children joined in the singing, and they sang and sang until one child opened his eyes, turned to look where the moon once was, gasped and announced, “She’s gone, she’s gone!”

As the children all turned and faced each other in their circle once again, they gasped and simultaneously said, “Where did she go?”

They looked up, looked around and looked down with the deepest wonder in their hearts.

“Oh, there she is! Look, look! There she is!” said a child pointing at Mother Moon.

And all the children looked up in that direction and saw Mother Moon on the horizon over the mountains, glowing in her silvery white splendor in the blue sky across from Father Sun. They oohed and aahed and joyfully jumped up and down.

“We did it! We helped her,” said a child.

“We still don’t know if we tickled her,” said the child who had proposed this idea.

Just then a wispy wind swept through their circle, spiraling around the children. They started to giggle.

“That tickles!” said one child.

“Mother Moon, she’s letting us know we tickled her and she’s tickling us right back!” said another.

“She must be friends with Grandmother Wind, “said the smallest child.

And with that, all the children held hands, looked up to Mother Moon and sang, “Mother Moon, may you find your way. Up into the sky may you return this day.”

“Wait, wait! We still don’t know how Mother Moon fell from the sky. What if she falls again?” asked a child.

“Well, we all fall sometimes. And there’s always someone to help pick us up,” said another.

“Oh yes!” confirmed all the children.

And from there, the children wandered back through the forest the way they had come, found their bicycles where they had left them across the meadow, and pedaled home under Father Sun’s golden yellow light and Mother Moon’s silvery white light. Oh, how wondrous a day it had been.

THE END

Thanks for reading, and for considering a clicked heart, comment, Pledge and Tip if you so choose. See more of my writing and info about me here: Jessica Amber Barnum