Luna was a fluffy little lamb with a very big worry. She was afraid of bedtime! As soon as the sun began to set, and the shadows grew long in the meadow, Luna would start to tremble. She wasn’t afraid of monsters, exactly, but of *what might be* in the shadows. She imagined all sorts of silly things – a grumpy badger wanting her wool, or a mischievous cloud trying to tickle her nose.
Her mama would tuck her in with a warm hug and a gentle, “Sleep tight, little one.” But Luna would peek out from under the covers, her big eyes scanning the darkening field. All the other lambs seemed to drift off to sleep easily, but Luna’s mind raced with worries.
One evening, Old Man Fitzwilliam, the wise sheep who had seen many seasons, noticed Luna’s distress. He ambled over and sat beside her. “What troubles you, little lamb?” he asked kindly.
Luna explained her fears, her voice barely a whisper. Old Man Fitzwilliam listened patiently, then said, “The shadows aren’t something to fear, Luna. They’re just the shapes of things you already know, playing tricks on your eyes. And sometimes, they’re just…empty space waiting for sweet dreams to fill them.”
He continued, “Close your eyes, Luna, and think of something happy. Think of the warm sunshine, the taste of sweet clover, or the feeling of running with your friends.” Luna closed her eyes and pictured a sunny day playing tag with her best friend, Pip. She giggled, remembering how Pip tripped over his own feet.
“Now,” Old Man Fitzwilliam said, “imagine those happy thoughts filling the shadows. Imagine them chasing away any worries.” Luna did as she was told. She imagined little sunbeams dancing in the darkness, and the sound of Pip’s happy bleating echoing around her.
Suddenly, the shadows didn’t seem so scary anymore. They felt…peaceful. Luna opened her eyes a little and saw that Old Man Fitzwilliam was right. The shadows were still there, but they didn’t hold any fear. They were just part of the night.
“Thank you, Old Man Fitzwilliam,” Luna said, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “I think…I think I can be brave now.”
Old Man Fitzwilliam smiled. “You *are* brave, Luna. You just needed to find the bravery inside yourself.” He nudged her gently with his nose. “Now, close your eyes and let those sweet dreams come.”
Luna snuggled into her mama’s side, closed her eyes, and thought of sunshine, clover, and her friend Pip. The shadows danced around her, but this time, they felt like friendly companions. She drifted off to sleep, a happy little lamb, finally brave enough to enjoy the peaceful quiet of bedtime. And she dreamed of running and playing in a meadow filled with sunshine and laughter.