That night, Baby was lying in bed, listening to the soft wind outside the window.
Slowly, slowly, Baby closed their eyes.
The moon peeked out from behind the clouds. Round and bright, it looked just like a little
night-light hanging in the sky.
And after Baby fell asleep, a very gentle dream began.
In the dream, Baby became a tiny cloud.
The little cloud was soft and white, and when it floated, it made no sound at all. It rose from beside the crib, drifted past the window, over the rooftop, and up into the night sky.
“You’re here,” whispered the moon.
The little cloud nodded, then followed the moonlight toward a forest far away.
The forest at night wasn’t dark. Silver moonlight rested on the leaves. Tiny stars hid between the branches. Little glimmers blinked softly in the grass.
Then, from the bushes, came a small rustle.
A squirrel hurried out, holding an acorn in both paws.
“Have you seen a little star?” asked the squirrel.
The little cloud shook its head.
Just then, a hedgehog stepped out from beside a mushroom. It moved slowly, and its footsteps were very quiet.
“It fell from the sky,” said the hedgehog. “We’re trying to find it.”
The little cloud looked down at the grass, but the leaves were too thick to see through.
Then, far away, the moonlight suddenly grew brighter.
A pair of white wings floated down into the clearing.
It was a unicorn.
Its mane was soft like a rainbow, and its wings were light like clouds. The unicorn lowered its head and said to the squirrel, the hedgehog, and the little cloud:
“Don’t worry. We’ll look together.”
So the squirrel searched from the branches.
The hedgehog searched through the grass.
The unicorn lit the path with a soft glow from its horn.
And the little cloud floated above them, sprinkling a mist so gentle that the moonlight became even softer.
They searched and searched.
At last, the hedgehog stopped beside a patch of tiny mushrooms.
“Here it is!”
Everyone gathered around.
There, resting between the blades of grass, was a tiny little star. It looked sleepy, and its light had grown dim.
The little cloud floated down and made itself even softer, even lighter, like a small blanket made of mist. Gently, it lifted the little star.
The unicorn opened its wings and carried the star back toward the sky.
Higher and higher they went.
At last, the little star returned to its place. It blinked once, then began to shine again.
The moon smiled.
The forest grew quiet.
The squirrel hugged its acorn. The hedgehog gave a tiny yawn. The unicorn folded its wings and stood in the moonlight, then nodded gently to the little cloud.
“Thank you, little cloud.”
The little cloud felt shy, and happy, and warm all at once.
A soft breeze came by, and the little cloud began to float home.
Past the forest.
Past the rooftops.
Past the window.
And back beside Baby’s bed.
The next morning, when Baby woke, sunlight was peeking into the room.
Baby didn’t quite remember where the dream had taken them.
But they knew they had slept so peacefully, so warmly, so safely.
Maybe it was because the moon had been watching.
Maybe it was because all the friends in the forest had whispered, very softly:
Goodnight, Baby.
