The Little Bunny Walk Beneath the Stars

Warm Milk with Honey

The evening came softly, the way a blanket settles over a bed.

Maya sat at the kitchen table with her plush bunny Puff tucked under her arm. Mom set down a little cup of warm milk with honey. It smelled sweet. It smelled like sleep.

"Blow on it first," Mom whispered.

Maya blew. Pfff. A tiny cloud of steam floated up and faded away.

She sipped. The milk was warm all the way down, like a small sun in her tummy. Puff's soft ear rested against her cheek.

Outside the window, the sky had turned the colour of blueberries. One star blinked on. Then another. Then another, quiet as crumbs.

"The stars are awake," said Maya.

"They are," said Dad from the doorway. "They only come out when everything else is getting sleepy."

Maya put down the empty cup. Her eyelids felt a little heavier than before, in a nice way.

"Can we take one small walk?" she asked. "Just to the end of the garden. So Puff can say goodnight to the stars."

Dad smiled and took down his jacket. Mom found Maya's shoes by the door and tucked a soft blanket over her shoulders.

"One small walk," said Mom. "A slow one."

The door opened with a tiny creak. Cool air came in and brushed Maya's nose. Somewhere far away, a dog yawned and lay down.

Maya held Puff close and stepped outside into the quiet.

Everything Goes to Sleep

The garden was hushed. Maya walked between Mom and Dad, holding one warm hand and one soft paw.

"Shhh," said the grass under her shoes. "Shhh, shhh."

By the fence, the daisies had closed their white petals tight, like tiny folded hands.

"The flowers are asleep," Maya whispered.

"They go to bed before you do," said Dad.

A bird rustled in the apple tree, turned around twice, and tucked its head under its wing. The leaves moved a little, then stopped. Everything got slower and slower.

At the end of the path, Maya saw something sitting very still. A real bunny. Small, with ears like two soft spoons. It looked at Maya. Maya looked at it. Neither of them hurried.

"Goodnight, bunny," Maya said, very quietly, so she would not wake the flowers.

The bunny wiggled its nose. Then it hopped, slow and sleepy, under the hedge, where its mother was waiting with a nest of warm fur and dry grass.

Maya held Puff up high so he could see the sky.

Stars, and stars, and more stars. So many that they looked like spilled sugar. One of them seemed to shine a little brighter, just for her.

"The stars don't sleep," said Maya.

"They do," Mom whispered. "They sleep in the morning, when the sun comes to take their turn."

Maya yawned a long yawn. Her legs felt soft and heavy.

"Home," she said. "Puff is tired."

And Dad lifted her up, blanket and bunny and all.

Under the Quilt with Puff

The house was warm and dim. Only the little lamp was on, glowing like a candle in a jar.

Dad carried Maya down the hallway. Her head rested on his shoulder. Her shoes came off, one, two, and were set neatly by the bed.

Mom turned back the quilt. The sheets were cool at first, then warm, like milk going down.

Maya lay on her side. Puff lay beside her, his soft nose touching her chin. She could feel his fluffy tummy going up, and down, and up, and down, the way sleepy things do.

"The daisies are asleep," Mom whispered, smoothing Maya's hair.

"The bird is asleep," said Dad, very low.

"The little bunny is asleep," Maya murmured, "in the fur nest."

"And the stars are keeping watch," said Mom, "until the morning comes."

Through the window, one star shone softly through the curtain. It did not blink. It just stayed, quiet and kind, like a nightlight someone hung up very high.

The room was still. The quilt was heavy and warm. Somewhere in the kitchen, the empty milk cup sat waiting for tomorrow.

Mom kissed Maya's forehead. Dad kissed the top of Puff's ear, because that is only fair.

"Goodnight, Maya," they whispered together.

Maya's eyes closed. Her hand curled around one soft bunny ear. Her breathing grew slow, and slower, and soft as the grass in the garden.

Shhh. Shhh.

And Maya was asleep.