Tiny was lost in her story when she heard the rat-a-tat-tat. It wasn’t coming from the window, or the door. She jumped down from the library bookshelf to investigate. The sound was coming from the Half-Broken Toys Box. Tiny ran across the rug and clambered up the alphabet blocks to peer inside.
A ballerina doll lay slumped in the shadows. Tiny let out a gasp. “Hello, is everything alright?”
The doll stared at Tiny from a crudely painted face. A stroke of red curved into a smile
“I’m Ballerina Blue. Angel of the skies. Or at least, I used to be.” The smile faded.
“Hello. I’m Tiny.” Tiny squinted into the darkness. “It must be lonely here on your own.”
Oh, I’m not alone,” said Ballerina Blue. “Froggie’s been here the longest, ever since he lost his leap.” A deep ribbit echoed in agreement. The doll continued, more solemnly now. “Broken phone was the last to leave, may Angel Barbie rest his soul.”
Tiny felt a wash of sadness as she stared at the doll. One leg was missing, an eye socket was empty, and her tutu was in tatters. “Would you like some help getting out?” she said, holding out her hand.
Ballerina Blue stared at the pile of rags in her lap. “Why yes, but I’m afraid my wings are in shreds.”
Tiny sighed and perched on the toybox wall, hoping for a spark of inspiration. In the hazy morning sunbeam, she spotted a shimmer of light. Hope fluttered in her chest. She hopped down the bricks and ran toward it. It was a glistening silver spiderweb! It would make the perfect silk thread. What else did she need? Tiny scratched her head as she thought, and her hand brushed the bobby-pin she’d placed in her hair that morning. She could use the bobby pin as a needle! Tiny gave a silent cheer and raced back to the toybox.
Ballerina Blue held an expectant smile as Tiny darned each hole, and stitched every sequin until the magical wings were restored. The doll fluttered her wings, then flapped, and floated high above the toybox, spinning and giggling with delight.
“I’m Ballerina Blue!” she cried. “Angel of the Skies!”
Tiny clapped her hands as Blue pirouetted across the Storytime Room releasing clouds of sparking silver dust into the air. She paused at the open window, then turned to give Tiny a final wave of thanks before flying into the clear morning sky.
Tiny waved until the sparkles faded around her. “Goodbye Sky Angel, goodbye,” she whispered into the empty room, then returned to the library shelf, happy to finish her story.