28/05/2026
The Lantern Keeper and the Sleepy Cloud
On the tip-top of Whispering Hill lived Mira, the Lantern Keeper. Every night, she polished one big silver lantern until it gleamed like a piece of the moon.
Her job wasn’t to light the whole sky — the stars did that. Her job was to help anyone who couldn’t find their way to sleep.
One evening, a tiny cloud drifted to her window. It didn’t rumble or rain. It just sighed.
“I’m too floaty to nap,” the cloud whispered. “I keep bobbing and worrying I’ll drift into tomorrow without resting.”
Mira smiled and opened her lantern. Inside, it wasn’t flame. It was warm, golden quiet. She scooped a handful and sprinkled it over the cloud.
“First,” she said, “let’s set down your worries. What are you carrying?”
“I’m worried I forgot to water the daisies,” the cloud mumbled.
Mira nodded. “The daisies drank morning dew. They’re dreaming now too.”
“I’m worried I’ll bump into the mountain,” the cloud added.
“The mountain is fast asleep,” Mira said. “And it snores so loud, it would nudge you away gently.”
One by one, the cloud’s worries floated into the lantern and turned into tiny fireflies. They glowed, then settled, happy to rest.
The cloud felt lighter. Slower. Sleepier.
“Last step,” Mira whispered. She sang the Lantern Keeper’s lullaby — no words, just the sound a kettle makes when it’s thinking about whistling, and the hush of turning pages.
The cloud curled up on her windowsill, tucked under a blanket of starlight. Its edges went soft. Its sigh became a snore no louder than a kitten’s yawn.
Mira closed the lantern halfway, so the night stayed gentle but not too dark. She tipped her hat to the moon and whispered, “Goodnight, sleepy world.”
And if you listen very closely tonight, you might hear the fireflies she made from worries, blinking out a lullaby just for you.
