One Good Thing, Warm and Small

Shhh, went the snow. It came down past the window, one soft flake landing on another, and it didn't make a sound. Dara stood on her tippy toes to look out. Dara was a small dinosaur with three round horns and a tail like a fat comma.

'Shhh,' said Dara back to the snow. The snow was blue outside, a pale cozy blue, like the inside of a shell. Inside the cabin it was warm. It smelled of wood smoke and cinnamon.

Dara's fat comma tail went swish, swish on the rug. Bath first, then blanket. That was the way of things.

Pop! A bubble popped on the end of Dara's nose. The bath was warm as a cup of milk, and the bubbles went pop, pop, pop. Nico lifted her out and wrapped her in a big towel. Nico was a big soft yak with a shaggy fringe and warm, warm hands.

Then came the blanket, the big fuzzy one. Then came her cuddly, the grey lump with one ear loved flat. Dara hugged it under her chin.

The blanket was blue like the snow outside. Dara rubbed her cheek on it, once, twice.

She climbed up on the wide window ledge and put her nose on the glass. 'Goodnight, moon,' she said. But the glass had gone all white and fuzzy. Her own breath had fogged it up, like a mirror after a bath. She couldn't see the moon at all.

Dara wanted to say goodnight to the moon. She said it every single night. It was her favorite small thing.

'Hffff,' she went, and huffed at the glass. The white grew bigger. It spread out like spilled milk. 'Hmm,' said Nico.

Dara wiped the glass with her paw. Squeak, squeak, squeak. A stripe came clear. Then the white crept back, slow as a snail, and the moon stayed hidden.

She tried her tail. Swish, swish. Clear, then fuzzy. Clear, then fuzzy. 'Hmm,' said Nico again.

Nico came and sat beside her on the ledge. 'What if you made a little hole?' said Nico. 'A small round hole, just for the moon.'

Dara put one claw on the glass. She turned it round and round, slow and small. Pop! She lifted her claw away, and there was a little round window inside the window. And right in the middle of it was the moon.

The white crept all around the hole. But the hole stayed open, round and clear. It was a moon-hole, just the right size for one moon. A moon-hole. Dara liked that.

Dara put her cheek on the glass. 'Goodnight, moon,' she said.

'Now,' said Nico. 'One good thing from today. Say it with me.' And they said it together, soft as the snow. 'One good thing, warm and small.'

'The bubbles,' said Dara. 'Pop, pop, pop on my nose.'

'Pop, pop, pop,' said Nico. 'I heard it from the kitchen.'

'One good thing, warm and small,' they said together. 'Cinnamon,' said Dara. 'The cabin smells like cinnamon.'

'One good thing, warm and small,' they said together. 'Shhh,' said Dara. 'The snow goes shhh.'

'One good thing, warm and small,' they said together. Dara looked at her moon-hole. 'The moon,' she said. 'The moon looked back at me.'

Nico pulled the blanket up to her chin. Nico hummed, low and slow, the way yaks hum. The cabin was warm. The snow came down, one flake on another, and said shhh.

Yawwwwn, went Dara. Her cuddly was soft under her cheek. Her moon-hole stayed open in the glass, and the moon stayed in it, round and pale and quiet.

Shhh, went the snow. Shhh, shhh. One good thing, warm and small. Then another. Then another. Dara's eyes went closed, slow and soft, like a blanket folding over.