Misty Says Goodnight to the Moon

It was evening in the little yellow house. The dishes were done, the toys were back in their box, and in the kitchen the clock ticked softly: tick, tock, tick, tock.

Misty the kitten was not tired. Not one bit, she decided. She hopped up onto the windowsill, where the soft knitted blanket lay, and turned around and around and around until it felt just right.

Outside, the sky was as dark and blue as velvet. And there, above the treetops, hung the moon. It was round and golden and shone so kindly that it almost seemed to smile.

"Hello, Moon," Misty whispered. "Are you awake too?"

The moon didn't answer, of course. But its light grew a little warmer on Misty's paws, and that felt like a yes.

"What do you do all night?" Misty asked.

She watched and watched. The moon shone on the roof, where the birds were sleeping. It shone on the garden, where the flowers had folded up their petals. It shone on the road, where no cars drove anymore. Everything lay still and silver.

"Oh," said Misty. "You're keeping watch. You make sure everyone sleeps well."

A little star twinkled beside the moon, and then another, and another. Misty began to count them. One star. Two stars. Three stars… Her eyes felt a little heavy, but she kept counting. Four stars. Five.

"Goodnight, birds on the roof," she murmured. "Goodnight, flowers. Goodnight, road."

She gave a big kitten yawn, the kind that makes your whiskers wobble.

"Goodnight, stars. All five of you. Or six. Or… lots."

Misty rested her head on her paws. The blanket was warm, the window was cool, and the moon shone just as kindly as before.

"Goodnight, Moon," she whispered. "Thank you for keeping watch."

And the moon kept shining, calm and quiet, over the little yellow house, over the garden and the road and the birds on the roof.

And over a small grey kitten, curled up like a soft round ball, fast asleep with a tiny smile on her face.

Goodnight, Misty. Sleep tight.