Little Cloud was a fluffy, cotton-ball-like cloud, just the right size for a preschooler. He lived in a sky filled with other clouds, all of different shapes and sizes. Some were wispy and thin, others were thick and puffy. Little Cloud was a light, happy cloud, but he was also a little bit… restless.
Every morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, Little Cloud would drift along, watching the world wake up. He saw the birds chirping, the children playing in the parks, and the colorful flowers opening their petals. Little Cloud wanted to join in on all the fun, wanting to be part of the exciting world around him.
But every afternoon, as the sun began to set, painting the sky in fiery hues, the other clouds would slowly drift downwards, gathering themselves for their evening rest.
Little Cloud would watch them, getting a little sad because he didn't feel like falling asleep. He felt different, like he was just not meant for quiet, unlike the other clouds. He wanted to be a part of the play, of the movement.
One afternoon, Little Cloud felt especially restless. He was surrounded by clouds, all drifting calmly into the sunset. He felt a twinge of sadness because he couldn't do the same. Then, a wise old cloud, grey and speckled with a touch of moon dust, floated closer.
The old cloud smiled gently. 'Little Cloud,' it said, 'each of us has a special place in the sky. Some clouds are made for gathering strength to bring rain. Others are made for collecting and holding the sun's warmth and the moon's beauty. And you, Little Cloud, are made for quiet dreams and peaceful rest. Quiet is where you build your strength.'
Little Cloud looked at the wise cloud and listened to its words. He thought about how much he enjoyed watching the world wake up, about how the sun was his favorite part of the day. He didn't want to just be quiet. He felt like he needed to be part of everything happening around him.
The wise cloud continued, 'Your energy is wonderful. You can enjoy watching the sun and the flowers and the other clouds play, but you also need time for yourself to recharge. Just like the other preschoolers, you need to be well-rested in order to be the best cloud you can be.'
Little Cloud listened carefully. He realised the wise cloud was right. He needed his quiet time for his own special magic. That night, as the stars twinkled in the velvet sky, Little Cloud felt a sense of peace settling over him. He drifted into a deep, restful sleep, dreaming of all the wonderful things he would see and do the next day.
From that day on, Little Cloud understood the importance of quiet and rest. He learned that even though he was different from the other clouds, he had his own special place in the sky, and his own magic to share, filled with the strength of sleep.
And as the sun rose each morning, Little Cloud, peaceful and rested, would still enjoy watching the birds, children, and flowers, knowing that his quiet rest made him even more ready to experience everything beautiful and wonderful around him.
He learned that accepting his role of being a quiet cloud and allowing himself to rest was the key to his own joy and happiness. He was the perfect cloud, just the way he was.