Tiny looked at the calendar; a red crayon heart circled the date fours squares from today. It said: “Happy Birthday Miss Rose!” She gulped. What was she going to do? All her party plans had been dashed by the virus, and Treetops was still under quarantine. She put on her thinking-cap, stared through the window, and hoped for an idea to flutter by. The clock ticked.
Tiny heard a rustling, and a pat-a-tat-tat on the pane. It was her dear friend Luna-Moth.
“Tiny,” squeaked Luna, the smile slipping slowly from her face, “so glum! What is the matter?”
“Oh Luna, it’s Miss Rose’s birthday on Sunday and I haven’t organized a thing!” Tiny cried.
“I have an idea! Call your friends, and meet me by the moonflowers at midnight!” chirped Luna, as she vanished into a flash of green light.
At the stroke of twelve, Tiny and her friends circled the fragrant moonflowers, and listened as Luna-Moth unveiled her master-plan: Tiny and Woodmint would bake the cakes, Dana-Bear and Liesel would visit the silk worms that lived on Mulberry Street, and Luna would speak to the stars about broadcasting a special message for Miss Rose. It all sounded marvelous. The friends nodded, and grinned, and gave a silent cheer.
The calendar days dropped away, and on Sunday the village of Treetops awoke to a magical surprise. A matrix of red silk thread crisscrossed the village—from house to mailbox, from railing to tree—binding the lives of every resident. Treetops had turned into a giant cat’s cradle. Throughout the day, the delighted villagers shared stories, pinned photos, and ate the delicious fairy-cakes that appeared on their doorsteps. And as the sun took his final bow, they turned to the heavens, and waited.
Tiny stared into the darkness, and her heart filled with wonder. She had no idea what the future would hold—all she could be sure about was this moment. Across the great celestial canvas, a thousand stars sparkled, spelling the words, Be Here Now. It was everything she could have wished for.