Sweet Dreams

A boy, 

Afraid of Darkness,

Whispered a wish to the beautiful Moon: 

Watch over me while I sleep!  

The Moon sent her silver beams,

And the Darkness could not find him. 

He slept.

My son and I have this ritual; if we see the moon, we repeat that rhyme "I see the moon and the moon sees me".  This assignment put that rhyme in my head.  

This weekend, we're enlisting your help in shortening our considerably lengthy bedtime routines by giving us a children's bedtime story in exactly 33 words.  It can be an old favorite reimagined or a work that is entirely your own.  We only ask that your story not leave our kids with visions of the boogie man dancing in their heads.  These tired bones thank you in advance. - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.yN9EBgPT.dpuf

Vast, or How The Stars Came to Be

Very long ago, before The People walked the Earth, the Sun and the Moon ruled the skies.  The two faithfully stood guard, and their light kept the Dark emptiness of the Void from devouring the Earth.

The Sun was the Ruler of the Day; his benevolent rays extended in every direction around him.  All were warmed and heartened by his light, and the Darkness fled.

The Moon was much smaller than the Sun.  Her mild light was only strong enough to protect the Earth, not herself.  The Darkness often curled around the Moon hungrily; she felt very small and alone.

"I am very lonely," The Moon told the Sun one day as they passed.  The Sun loved the Moon very much, and he did not want her to be unhappy.  The Sun went to the Great Spirit.

"Please help the Moon," The Sun beseeched Him. "She is lonely, and I would do anything to see her happy once more."

The Great Spirit smiled at the selflessness of His Creation.  He broke off the rays of the sun, crushed them in his hands, and blew the fragments across the vast emptiness around the Earth.  The Void, and its darkness, retreated far away. Then the Great Spirit called the new fragments lighting the sky Stars, and he healed the Sun so his rays once more extended all around him.

When the Moon Rose the next evening, she was delighted to find the many millions of stars sparkling around her, and the Darkness gone.  She would never be lonely again, the Stars told her.  Now the Stars shine their laughter each night, and the Moon beams with happiness. 


***I was thinking about the prompt yesterday during our state's annual standardized torture testing, and this story sprang to mind.  I don't know if there are any Native American folktales about the Sun, Moon, and Stars, but if there are, any similarities to my story are completely accidental.  And I even had some pictures to upload, but Evernote is apparently "offline", so...no pictures.  Which is probably good--I am no artist!

Mamakat's Prompt:
2.) Write a blog post inspired by the word: Night.

WOE: To The Moon

Prompt:  you have 500 words to write a piece, fiction or non-fiction, which includes the phrase “to the moon.”    Sorry this is late, but the power was out here last night.  This is non-fiction.
 

"...to the moon."  

The announcer's voice pulled on my attention.  I wandered into the room where my parents sat in front of the television, curious.  My parents were mesmerized, staring at the screen.   A white, blurry, egg-shaped contraption with legs seemed to glow from the black and white picture.  An astronaut was jerkily bouncing down the ladder, looking as if he were made of marshmallows, big and puffy.  

"What's that?" I asked my parents. 

"It's men landing on the moon." My mother never took her eyes off the television, caught in the moment.   Surprised, I raced outside into the backyard.   I had just turned four, but I knew where the moon was.

The moon had already risen in the sky above El Paso, a slice of white and gray in the blue of the afternoon sky.  It seemed to be very close.  I strained my eyes and craned my neck, certain that I should be able to see the marshmallow men up there, bouncing on the moon.  


There was nothing to see. It seemed to me that if there were people walking on the moon, the moon should look different. There should be some indication, however small, that an event so momentous had occurred.  Instead, the moon looked as placid as it always did.   I kept my eyes on the moon, just in case, until my father came outside to find me.  My dad, when he was able to stop laughing, explained that the moon, though it looked close, was actually very far away.  I was disappointed, but undefeated.  

I continued to stare at the moon every chance I got for the entire summer, hoping to see a footprint, or the red of the American flag...something. I finally understood that I would never be able to see what was happening on the far-away moon with my naked eye, and that was a sad day for me.  Yet some imaginings don't fade so easily.  Even today, when I look up in the sky, there's still that little girl in the back of my mind, peering intently at the moon, still dreaming.