A Special Story

“Storytime?”
The little boy asked.
He asked for his sister too, who was too little to say anything apart from the occasional babble for a ‘baba’ or ‘muh’.
So, it was up to the little boy to ask for things that were as grown-up as bedtime stories.

“Course, baby”
Answered Muhmuh, laying him down beside his sister.

Settling with them, she scooped a pile of the newer looking books into her lap.

“Three little pigs?”

The little boy shook his head, and his sister let out a loud “ga-bla!”
Which he took as agreement.

“We don’t like that one, Muhmuh. Those poor pigs.”

Muhmuh smiled, nodded and shuffled through the stack.
“Okay, no mean stories?… No Hansel and Gretel? Definitely no Little Red Riding Hood…”
She discarded each book to the dresser as it was deemed too mean for a little boys bedtime.

“How about a special story?”

The little boy turned onto his side and cuddled closely.
It was the only answer she needed.
She made sure they were tucked in warm and safe and began what she thought was the most special story.

“There was once a small boy. And this boy was very small indeed.
His sister was even smaller.
He’d watch over her.
He’d share his toys, and his bed for bedtime stories.
He even shared his muhmuh without complaint.
He made his muhmuh so proud.
So she told him a story to thank him, to reassure him that she loved him the same as ever.”

The little boy fidgeted at his muhmuhs side. Clearly interested in the boy from the story.

“And so”…Muhmuh went on, resting her hand in the boys hair.
“…Muhmuh laid with the two one night and told them a story.”

“It all began with bedtime. The moon outside shone brightly through the window.
And as she did every night, she told the boy how she loved him more than anything.
But this time the boy wrinkled his nose and glanced at his sister.

“You must love me a little less now though, Muhmuh?”

Muhmuh smiled and shook her head.
‘You see the moon out there, babyboy? You see how brightly it shines?’

The boy nodded.
“I like the moon, Muhmuh. I wanna go there one day”

“Well…” said Muhmuh.
“If you were to go and stand in the yard, and ignored your cold toes for just a moment, could you look up at the moon and see it?”

“Yes, Muhmuh, it’s so bright”

Muhmuh smiled wide
“What if you swaddled up your sister and carried her outside, would that light shine any less bright?”

“…no?”
Said the little boy.

“That’s right” said Muhmuh.
“Such a clever boy.
That’s how you know Muhmuh loves you no less, babyboy.
Muhmuhs love is like the moons light.
Sometimes it burns as brightly as the sun and you’ll feel it warm you.
And even when the moon is busy resting or feeling shy and half-covered, it’s always there waiting to shine brightly on you both.”

There was a mumble that sounded very much like
“All a view, Muhmuh”

Muhmuh knew the run-on sentence well.
Her little boy was sleeping sounder than he had in a while, his sister too. And soon they were all asleep beneath the moon’s light.

 

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