Zoe woke up. Today was her eighth birthday. She followed a trail of golden dust all the way out of her room.
She stood in the hallway. Eight doors lined the wall, each pulsing with a different color of light — pink, blue, green, and gold.
Zoe opened the first door. A wave of warm cookies filled the hall. They smelled like kindness.
She opened the second door. A tiny lion wearing sunglasses leaped out and roared!
The third door burst open with rainbow paint! It splashed everywhere in bright colors.
The fourth door let out a giggle that wouldn't stop. Zoe snort-laughed until her tummy hurt.
The fifth door tumbled out stuffed animals that hugged her legs. The sixth door echoed a brave voice.
The seventh door flickered with sparkles of cleverness that flitted around her head like fireflies.
Zoe stood before the eighth door. It didn't budge. She pulled. She knocked. It stayed dark and still.
She whispered, "I don't think I can." The hallway went quiet.
Zoe took a deep breath and said, "I can." The door shivered, then swung open to reveal a full-length mirror.
Zoe saw herself — cookies, a tiny lion, rainbow paint, giggles, stuffed animals, a brave voice, sparkles, and all. She grinned, spun around, and ran back down the hall.