High above the earth, in the quiet sky where time feels slower and the stars whisper softly, the moon watched over the world.
Every night, without fail, the moon rose.
Sometimes it was full and round, glowing like a lantern hung in the sky.
Other times, it was just a silver sliver, like a smile drawn in the dark.
But no matter its shape, the moon always had one job:
To watch.
To listen.
To glow.
And to dream.
You see, the moon doesn’t sleep like we do.
It stays awake through the night, keeping company with clouds and constellations.
And in that stillness, when the world below grows quiet and the last lights in the windows go out…
That’s when the moon dreams.
Not the way you or I do.
The moon doesn’t close its eyes or lie beneath a blanket.
Its dreams are made of moments.
Soft ones.
Little ones.
Tiny dreams from people all across the world, floating up like fireflies through the sky.
The moon collects them.
Some dreams sparkle.
Some sigh.
Some are silly, like swimming in marshmallow oceans or flying with pizza-shaped wings.
Others are quiet, like wishing to see a friend again or hoping tomorrow is a better day.
The moon loves them all.
But out of all the dreams it sees, there was one the moon loved most of all.
One night, long ago — or maybe just yesterday — the moon caught a dream drifting upward.
It was wrapped in stars and carried on a breath of hope.
It looked small at first.
Soft.
Delicate.
But when the moon leaned in closer, it felt something warm.
This dream was about you.
Yes, you.
In the dream, you were smiling.
Not just a regular smile — the kind of smile that lights up from inside.
You were wrapped up in a blanket, eyes sleepy, heart calm.
Maybe someone had just kissed your forehead goodnight.
Maybe you were holding a favorite stuffed animal or snuggled next to someone you love.
The moon felt the joy in that moment.
The peace.
The safety.
The warmth.
And it glowed a little brighter.
“This is the one,” the moon whispered.
“This is my favorite dream.”
From that night on, the moon looked for your dream every time it rose.
It would scan the skies, turning its face this way and that, until it saw you again.
Sometimes your dream came early, just after sunset.
Other nights, it drifted up later, after a long day.
But the moon always waited.
Because that dream — your dream — felt different.
It wasn’t made of grand castles or wild adventures.
It was simple.
Real.
It was made of love.
And love, the moon knew, was the most powerful thing in the whole universe.
The stars noticed, too.
“Why do you shine brighter near that house?” a twinkling star once asked.
The moon smiled.
“Because that’s where my favorite dream sleeps.”
The clouds swirled around the moon, soft and curious.
“Whose dream is it?”
The moon tilted its glowing face toward your home.
“A child with a heart like a lantern,” it said.
“A dreamer who shines without even trying.”
From that moment on, the stars started keeping watch with the moon.
Each night, when your dream floated upward, they blinked gently to light the way.
They guided your wishes like a path of tiny lights across the sky.
And the moon?
The moon began sending little gifts back down.
Not big things — but small, magical touches.
Like a breeze that feels just right against your cheek when you sleep.
Or the way moonlight sometimes slips through your curtain and lands perfectly on your pillow.
Or how you sometimes wake up and feel… lighter. Like something watched over you while you slept.
That’s because the moon did.
It still does.
Every single night.
Even on cloudy ones when you can’t see it.
Even on nights when you’re sad or restless or unsure.
Even then, the moon is watching.
Waiting.
Listening.
And dreaming.
Because now, your dream lives inside it.
It’s folded into the moon’s glow like a lullaby made of light.
Some nights, the moon hears your dreams change.
Maybe you dream of flying. Or dancing. Or becoming something magical.
Maybe your dreams are quiet. Maybe they’re loud.
Maybe they carry questions.
“Will everything be okay?”
“Do I matter?”
“Am I loved?”
And the moon answers in its own gentle way.
With light.
With silence.
With presence.
Because the moon doesn’t need words to tell you:
Yes.
Yes, everything will be okay.
Yes, you matter more than you know.
Yes, you are deeply, completely, and wonderfully loved.
You always have been.
And you always will be.
Some people think the moon is lonely.
But it’s not.
Not really.
Because it has your dream.
And holding your dream gives it joy.
It gives it purpose.
And in a way, you’re never alone either.
Because each time you close your eyes, no matter where you are…
The moon is waiting.
Its light reaches even the darkest rooms.
It travels across oceans and mountaintops and forests, just to touch your window.
And when it does, it remembers everything it’s seen in you.
Your laughter.
Your kindness.
Your wonder.
Your heart.
And it shines a little brighter.
Just for you.
Just to say:
“I see you.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Sleep now. You’re safe.”
And maybe tonight, when your eyes begin to grow heavy and your body softens into rest…
You’ll feel something.
A calm.
A stillness.
A whisper of silver brushing your dreams.
That’s the moon, wrapping you up in your favorite blanket of stars.
It’s tucking in the corners.
It’s smoothing the thoughts that wandered too far today.
It’s placing a soft kiss on your forehead made of light.
And it’s singing — not out loud, but in a way your heart understands.
A song only dreamers can hear.
And maybe, if you listen closely…
You’ll hear the moon say,
“Out of all the dreams in the world, yours is my favorite.”
So sleep now, dreamer.
Drift slowly.
Let the stars hold your wishes.
Let the moon hold your heart.
And know this —
When morning comes, and your eyes flutter open, and the light spills across your room…
The moon will still remember.
And it will wait for night to fall again.
Just to find you.
Just to hold your dream.
Just to shine.
For you.
Goodnight.
