Little Girl and the Moon 

 

There were once three small white steps that lived near a door. Children often walked up and down them but never lingered too long—all children, that is, except one. This child was different. Not in how she looked, though; no, she appeared perfectly ordinary, like any other child:

 

• No beak

• No tail

• No feathers

• Or long pointy ears

 

She looked plain and ordinary.

 

But there was something different about her. Though she didn’t look unusual, she felt unusual. Every time the moon was at its fullest, she would glow with happiness. When the moon dimmed, she would grow sad or feel sick to her stomach. She didn’t talk much with other children and didn’t have any friends—except for one.

Her only friend was a silver necklace shaped like a cat, a gift from her father.

“Be careful with this necklace,” he had said. “It is very special.”

She never took it off, not even when her teacher asked her to during the school swimming gala. The necklace was, indeed, special. What no one knew was that the cat pendant was alive—just like you and me. It could see, hear, and feel everything the girl felt.

The cat wasn’t ordinary either. It came from Egypt and had once been a servant to a Pharaoh. Punished for disobeying an order, the cat was transformed into a silver necklace and passed from one person to another through the ages. Its curse could only be broken by someone innocent who truly needed its help.

For a long time, the girl and the necklace shared an unspoken bond. Then, on her birthday, her father gave her a puzzling gift: a plain white envelope containing a blank sheet of paper.

She stared at the gift in confusion. Why would her father give her something so mean?

Seeing her puzzlement, her father knelt beside her.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

He guided her outside and stood silently, gazing up at the moon.

 

“There are many things around us,” he said, “that we barely notice or understand. But if you take the time and look closely, things that seemed invisible will suddenly appear before your eyes.”

At that moment, the moon’s rays broke through the clouds, bathing them in silvery light.

“Look,” he said.

The girl glanced down at the blank paper. It wasn’t blank anymore. A single word shimmered in the moonlight:

MA…

 

Her father placed a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Be careful with that word,” he whispered.

 

“Why?” she asked.

 

“You’ll see. At exactly midnight, say the word. Don’t be afraid—it will help you find yourself.”

 

A tear glistened in his eye as he added, “I love you very much.”

 

Then he walked back inside.

 

The girl clutched the paper tightly. Excitement filled her as she waited for midnight to come. But as soon as the word had appeared, it disappeared again when a cloud passed over the moon.

 

She said her good nights and rushed to her room, hiding the paper under her pillow, and lay down. Time seemed to crawl. Each time she looked at her clock, only a second or two had passed. Finally, her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep.

 

She awoke to her alarm ringing.

 

“I must have fallen asleep,” she thought. “How smart of me to set an alarm!”

 

Reaching under her pillow, she retrieved the paper. Pushing aside her curtains to let the moonlight in, she whispered the word:

 

“Malevitaly.”

 

Nothing happened. She said it again. And again. Still nothing. Disappointment filled her, and tears welled in her eyes. One tear fell onto her necklace.

 

Suddenly, a bright light burst from her chest, throwing her backward.

 

MEOW.

 

She gasped and dove under her covers. Trembling, she peeked through a tiny gap and whispered, “Who… who’s there?”

 

MEOW.

 

A soft thump followed, and something landed on her bed. Purring filled the silence. Cautiously, she poked her head out.

 

A beautiful white cat sat beside her.

 

“Where did you come from?” she asked.

 

“You called me,” said a voice.

 

“Who… who said that?”

 

“I did,” the voice replied.

 

“But I don’t see anyone.”

 

“I’m right here.”

 

The girl’s eyes widened. “You’re talking? But you’re a cat. Cats don’t talk.”

 

“Silly girl,” the cat replied, “of course we talk. We just choose not to.”

 

“Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

 

“That’s alright. Not many people do.”

 

She touched her necklace—and realised it was gone.

 

“You’re my necklace?” she whispered.

 

“Yes, and I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment. But we must leave now. You’ve been here too long and your time is running out.”

 

“Leave? Go where?”

 

“Back home.” Said the cat

 

“But I am home.”

 

The cat shook his head. “If you asked your heart, it would tell you otherwise.”

 

Tears filled her eyes. “No… I don’t believe you.”

 

The cat softened. “I’m sorry, little one, but deep down, you’ve always known.”

 

The girl hesitated but finally nodded. She followed the cat out onto the balcony. Together, they climbed down the vines growing along the house.

 

When they reached the street, a bus appeared out of nowhere—a shimmering rainbow bus.

 

They boarded and rode it across a glowing rainbow bridge to a place called Brick Wall Junction. Before them stretched an endless brick wall.

 

“Through here,” the cat said, pointing to a tiny door.

 

The girl knelt and crawled through. On the other side was an incredible city. Trees stretched into the clouds, pink elephants strolled down the streets, and zebras (actual zebras!) crossed roads marked “Zebra Crossing.” Flowers of every colour imaginable filled the air with sweetness.

 

“Where are we?” she asked in awe.

 

“This is the city where only a few children ever come,” the cat explained.

 

“Why only children?”

 

“Because grown-ups are too busy to notice small things—like the little door we just came through.”

 

The girl marvelled at the sights, but the cat urged her to hurry.

 

“Where are we going?” she asked.

 

“To the moon. It’s your true home. You’ve always belonged there.”

 

As they walked, the cat explained her story:

 

“You once lived on the moon, tending to its stars. But one day, you tripped and fell to Earth, losing your memory. Everyone here prepared for your return, but you wandered away… until your father found you and gave you my necklace for protection.”

 

“But why now?”

 

“We had to wait for the blue moon to bring you back, but now the moon is growing dim. It needs you. You complete each other.”

 

“At last, they reached a glowing spot on the ground.

 

“This is it,” the cat said. “Only you know how to get back.”

 

The girl thought hard, gazing at the moon. Slowly, her father’s words came back to her.

 

When the clouds parted, the moon’s rays revealed a shimmering ladder.

 

The girl hugged the cat goodbye and began to climb.

 

When she reached the top, she finally remembered everything—and felt truly at home.

 

“It’s good to be back,” she told the moon, and they both glowed with happiness.