Tiny lay in her bed, drifting in and out of dreamland. It was a particularly delicious dream where she petted and cooed into Penny-dog’s corn-silk ears. The little voice spoke from deep inside her mind.
“Wake up!” it urged. “Tiny, wake up! It’s time.” Tiny could barely open her eyes, so heavy were they with sleep. Begrudgingly she took out her ladder and began the climb to the Land of Awakening. Sleep wrapped its warm soothing arms around her, pleading her to stay, but the voice was more insistent now.
“Quickly Tiny, before it’s too late!” Tiny took the final step up the ladder, pushed open the hatch, and opened her eyes.
The world outside was filled with a rich luminous glow; she had awoken to see the golden hour, when Mother-the-Sun touched every living being with her energizing light. Tiny leapt out of bed and ran to the garden.
She watched in awe as the trees unfurled their leaves, drinking in each drop of nourishing heat, radiating gold from sap to bark. The family of robins squeezed their teeny eyelids shut, basking in the amber bliss. And Tiny sat amid the morning glories, gentle faces lifted, ready to receive their morning blessings.
Mother-the-Sun ticked slowly across the cobalt sky until the golden hour had passed, and the dullness of morning returned. Tiny made her way back to bed, sleep was still waiting. She had witnessed the dawning of a new day, and gratitude filled her tired heart.