The Moon in the Bucket

Nora is six years old. She lives in a small blue house with her mom, dad and grandpa. Her room is at the top of the house. It has a big window, and from her bed she can see the sky.

Every night, Nora looks at the moon. It is round and white, and it looks soft, like a cookie. "I want the moon in my room," she tells her grandpa one evening. "Then I can see it all night."

Grandpa smiles. "The moon is very, very far away," he says. "Nobody can bring it into a room." But Nora does not listen. She is already thinking of a plan.

The next evening, she takes a chair out to the garden. She stands on it and reaches up with both hands. The moon is big and bright over the trees. But her hands only touch the cold air. "It's too high," she says, and she goes back inside.

On Saturday, she tries her dad's long ladder. Nora cannot carry it alone, so she asks her dad for help. He puts the ladder against the house, but he does not let her go up. "That is not safe," he says. "And the moon is much higher than our house."

On Sunday, Nora tries a net. It is her net for butterflies. She runs around the garden with it and jumps as high as she can. Her little dog, Pepper, runs and jumps with her. They catch three leaves, but no moon.

That night, Nora sits on the back steps with Pepper. She is a little sad. "The moon does not want to come to my room," she says. Pepper puts his head on her knee.

Then Grandpa comes out of the house with an old bucket. He fills it with water and puts it on the grass in front of Nora. "Look inside," he says quietly.

Nora looks into the bucket. The water is dark and very still. And there, in the middle of the water, is the moon! It is small and round and white, and it shines up at her. Nora opens her mouth, but she cannot say a word.

"Now you have the moon," Grandpa says. Nora laughs and claps her hands. She touches the water with one finger, and the moon moves and shakes. Then the water is still again, and the moon comes back.

"I'm going to take it to my room!" Nora says. She carries the bucket very slowly up the stairs. It is heavy, and some water falls on the floor.

In her room, Nora puts the bucket next to her bed. She looks inside. The water is there, but the moon is not. She only sees the ceiling and her own face. "Grandpa!" she calls. "The moon is gone!"

Grandpa comes up the stairs. He looks into the bucket, and then he looks out the window. "The moon is not gone," he says. "It is still in the sky. The water only shows the moon when the bucket is outside."

Nora thinks about this for a long time. Then she carries the bucket back down to the garden and puts it on the grass. And the moon is there again, small and bright, in the middle of the water.

"Some things are beautiful where they are," Grandpa says. "We cannot keep them in a room. But we can visit them." Nora nods. She sits on the grass next to the bucket, and Grandpa sits next to her.

Now, every evening before bed, Nora and Grandpa fill the bucket with water and visit the moon. Some nights, it is big and round. Some nights, it is thin, like a smile. And on cloudy nights, they only see the dark water.

But Nora is not sad on those nights. She looks out her big window and says, "Good night, Moon. See you tomorrow in the bucket."