The night had just begun. Maira was in bed, after dinning with her parents and grandma, all of whom constituted her family.
But something didn’t feel right!
Maira was not able to see the moon or stars through her bedside window.
Maira could imagine the face of an angel in the moon; the stars twinkled in tandem as her lullaby. And Maira went into a cosy sleep. Always.
Now, the moon was not there. Neither were the stars. They were hiding behind dark clouds.
She went running to her grandma, with a heart full of questions.
“Where did they go?” Maira enquired.
“Nowhere, sweetheart,” softly answered the grey grandma, with a comforting grin.
“They are just concealed by the dark clouds. But they are there, waiting to come out to meet you again.”
“But what if the cloud never let them out?”
“They will come out. They always do. You see, we get clouds in the sky every now and then. The clouds, dark or not, block our view, and we cannot see what is beyond them. But then they go away or precipitate as rain, and we get to see our moon and the stars again.”
The four-year-old knew how to trust her grandma.
“So, I will see them tomorrow?”
“Yes, pretty much.”
“Can I sleep with you tonight?”
“Yes, my child.”
The grandma canoodled Maira, who drifted into sleep rather swiftly.
It was raining the next day.
Maira sat in the window of their living room, watching the rain drench their garden, full of roses and pines, on the summer day. She wanted to play, but the grandma’s words kept her hope.
‘This rain will make the clouds disappear,’ she thought.
As the night drew closer, the rain stopped. The clouds disappeared. The true colour of the evening sky became visible.
She smiled even more at the dinner table.
As she slipped under the covers in her room, she longingly looked out the window.
The moon was there. Shining brightly among the countless stars.
Maira smile at them.
The angel-face smiled back, as the stars twinkled.
Maira was soon asleep.