The Fox Who Collected Moonlight

Deep in Hollow Wood lived a small red fox called Fern, who loved the moon more than anything. Every night she sat on the hill and watched its silver light spill over the trees. "If only I could keep some," she sighed, "then I'd never be in the dark." So one evening Fern found an old glass jar, crept to the stream where the moonlight sparkled brightest, and scooped. The jar glowed! She screwed the lid on tight and carried it home, proud as could be. But in the morning the jar was empty. Just water, and a little leaf. Fern tried again the next night, and the next. Each morning, the light was gone. Old Owl watched from his branch. "Why do you keep catching the moon, little one?" "Because I'm scared of the dark," Fern whispered. Owl fluffed his feathers. "Moonlight doesn't live in jars. It comes back every night, all by itself, because it wants to find you. You don't need to keep it. You only need to look up." That night Fern left the jar at home. She curled up on the hill, looked up — and there was the moon, smiling right at her, just as Owl had promised. And Fern fell asleep warm and unafraid, knowing the light would always come back. The end. Goodnight.