The Moon's Forgotten Lullaby

It was a quiet evening in a small yellow house. Outside, the wind whispered in the birch tree. Inside, only one lamp was on, warm and golden. Grandmother Vendela sat by the bed. Her little grandchild was already asleep, soft and warm. A tiny hand rested on top of the quilt. Vendela wanted to sing a lullaby. A lullaby her own grandmother had sung long, long ago.

But the song would not come. Vendela remembered a tiny piece. La la… something about a boat. Something about a star. And then… no, it was gone again. Everything went quiet inside her head. She closed her eyes and tried to remember. She searched in her heart. But there was only stillness. She whispered, 'Oh little song, where have you gone?'

Vendela sighed softly. She stroked the grandchild's little hand with one finger. 'Sleep well anyway, my darling,' she whispered. She switched off the lamp. Click. Only the moon was shining now, big and round outside the window. His light was silver-white and very calm. It fell over the quilt. It fell over Vendela's shoulders. Everything was very, very still.

Up in the sky, the moon had been listening. The moon always listens, every night. He hears all the small whispers down on the earth. He hears children falling asleep. He hears cats purring. He hears mothers humming. And the moon remembered. He remembered a lullaby from very, very long ago. The very song Vendela had forgotten. He had kept it safe inside his light.

The moon thought for a little while. Then he smiled softly. 'Tonight,' he thought, 'the song may come home.' He slowly lowered a silver thread down toward the house. The thread was thin as a spider's silk and bright as moonlight. It slid through the night without a single sound. Past the clouds. Past a sleepy bird. Down, down, toward the small yellow house.

On the thread sat a tiny, tiny moth. She was grey as mist and soft as a cloud. Her wings were small as flower petals. Inside her little wing-beats lived a song. The very song Vendela had forgotten. The moth knew it by heart. She had carried it for a long time. Now she would carry it home.