Hello everyone, this is Ria with a quick note.
This is a preview of an episode exclusive to Little Stories Premium.
Little Stories Premium gives you more of the stories you love, an ad-free listening experience, and access to Little Stories for Sleep.
An exclusive bedtime podcast featuring brand new sleepy stories perfect for that last track on a bedtime playlist.
Subscribe or purchase a gift subscription by visiting littlestoriespremium.com.
Now on to the show.
This is Ria.
Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People.
So my guest today was supposed to be a turtle who lives in the woods near my house.
His name is Carter, and I've met him a few times, but he's not the most outgoing turtle.
We've reached a point in our relationship where he no longer dives inside his shell as soon as he sees me, but it's a work in progress.
The other day, after much persuasion on my part, Carter agreed to sit in for the story.
But at the last minute, a blue jay named Marco showed up at my window holding a leaf with a message scrawled across it.
It said, Dear Rhea,
And at that moment, Marco pulled out some worms.
Ugh, gross.
I'm going to be sending those back.
I'm of two minds about this, tiny people.
On the one hand, I've totally been there.
Have you?
Have you ever just wanted to hide away in your shell?
I definitely have.
But I also think it's important to try to work through those feelings.
So I really hope Carter comes in the future and listens to his story.
I'll keep trying, tiny people.
Okay, let's get on with the story.
Ava takes the moon.
Remember, there are no pictures.
You'll have to imagine the pictures in your mind.
You can imagine them however you want.
Okay, here we go.
Ava loved to cut paper and cardboard boxes into dolls, dioramas, and brown paper foxes.
She loved to paste cutouts onto big poster boards.
In fall, she pasted googly eyes on the sides of small gourds.
She cut old newspapers into shreds.
She cut the tags off the mattresses of everyone's beds.
It calms me, Ava said when her mother objected.
I cut paper, Ava added, when I feel disrespected.
No one could deny Ava had talent, a gift, a rare ability to thoroughly sift through magazines, flyers, and recycling with speed to find just the right pictures she could possibly need.
So when her mother would object, Ava would simply point to her latest project.
I'm an artiste, Ava announced as paper trailed out the door.
And still, even with paper piling up on the floor, Ava still laughed.
Still needed to snip more.
Things got crazy when Ava was stressed.
She would snip till all her paper dolls were dressed, in elaborate costumes, in hats and in belts, until Ava's fingers developed small welts.
Enough, her mom said one day, swiftly taking the scissors away.
Enough of that snipping, at least for today.
Ava stuck out her lip and mumbled, Okay.
Somehow, Ava got from Monday to Thursday without her scissors to keep stress at bay.
But on Friday, everything seemed to go wrong, and the day felt very, very long.
Her best friend had to go home sick.
At recess, Ava looked at her leg and saw a tick.
After the tick was removed, Ava got paint on her shirt.
So the rest of the day, she was on high alert.
For what else could go wrong in the span of a day?
And she arrived home exhausted, too spent to play.
That night, Ava dreamed of cutting confetti, tossing it high.
She suddenly woke, glimpsing the moon in the sky.
The moon was full, shimmering, glowing in the dark, and seeing it there seemed to light a spark somewhere deep in Ava's heart.
She searched for her scissors to commence with her art.
Scissors in hand, Ava went in the yard.
This'll just take a minute.
Won't be too hard, she thought as she pulled the ladder out of the shed and listened to make sure her parents were in bed.
Ava stood on the ladder ever so high and she snipped, she snipped that moon out of the sky.
She pulled the moon down and dragged it inside.
My very own moon, she thought to herself as she hung the moon above an old wooden shelf.
This was Ava's biggest project by far.
Bigger than her huge cardboard car.
Bigger than the fort she'd made of paper mache.
Bigger than the set she'd made for her play.
Ava fell asleep, staring at the moon, feeling her worries fall away.
But it didn't take long for others to see the moon was gone.
Out in the deep dark, well before dawn, dogs, owls, creatures in the night,
People working the night shift, now without light.
Ava soon woke to the sounds of those sad to see a dark, blank spot where the moon used to be.
Thank you, as always, for listening in.
