The Longest Night
The little girl couldn't sleep, for the night was very long. It wasn't often that night felt like this, because as the darkness began her eyelids would droop and the next sight her eyes would see was the morning sunlight streaming through the window glass. But this night was longer than others. This night was the longest.
She lay in her bed and stared out at it, because of the courage she had within her. She saw the clouds that dampened the moon's light, and felt a shiver as the night seemed to grow colder. But she tipped her head at the clouds and their heavy darkness, and thought that perhaps they were off to a wheat field to grant it rain. At least, she hoped that it was so.
The moon came to full light after the clouds had passed, but its light seemed silver, sharp, and cool. It sent a chill down the little girl's spine. But still she kept vigil, thinking perhaps the moon was feeling especially distant that night. It would return to feeling wonder the next night. At least, she hoped that it was so.
Even moons need to sleep, and in time the sharpness of its glow dipped and faded away. All that was left were the stars, flecks of tiny glitter that were both too much and not enough on this long night. The little girl thought that perhaps the stars were uncomfortable in their own skin on just this night; perhaps this happened to them from time to time. But it couldn't last forever, she thought. No one could be uncomfortable in their own skin forever. At least, she hoped that it was so.
Finally the last star winked out, perhaps to rest and find its peace, and a rosy dawn began.
The little girl crawled to the edge of her bed and placed her hands on the window's ledge, hoping with her whole heart that the sun would come and the long night would end. And so it did. The little girl breathed in the sight with wide eyes. She had known the sun would come. The sun will always come. Even when there has been the longest night.