A silver ribbon of moonlight slipped through the open door. It crossed the quiet room and beckoned toward the garden.
The young girl followed the light outside. It slipped over her hijab and danced across the stepping-stones. “Where are you going?” she whispered.
Near the roses, the young girl found a fallen flowerpot. She gently set it upright and looked at its drooping leaves.
She brought water from the porch and poured it slowly. Drops sparkled like tiny stars, and the leaves lifted toward the glow.
Inside, her family rested together after the long day. The young girl carried the patchwork blanket over and tucked it around their feet.
She placed a warm cup beside them. Outside, flowers brightened, puddles shimmered, and the garden began to glow.
Then a thick cloud rolled over the moon. The garden dimmed, and the shining path disappeared.
The young girl gathered the blanket and straightened the flowerpot. She tidied the quiet room while softly saying a prayer.
Her small lamp flickered. “Please keep this home peaceful,” she whispered. Then the flame steadied and filled the room with gold.
Rain tapped the window—tap, tap, tap. The young girl listened until the cloud began to drift away.
The cloud drifted away. Moonlight poured over every flower and puddle, turning the garden bright again.
The young girl stepped outside and waved to the shining sky. Then she settled beside her family as the peaceful garden glowed around them.
