A complete Sweetest Dreams sample bedtime story
Aoife was almost asleep when she heard the tiniest sound.
Ting.
It came from outside her bedroom window.
Ting, ting.
Aoife opened one eye. Her room was dark and cosy. Her silver star blanket was tucked under her chin. Button, her teddy bear, lay beside her with one floppy arm over his face.
The sound came again.
Ting.
Moonlight rested on the windowsill like a soft white ribbon. It slipped down the wall, crossed the rug, and stopped beside Aoife’s bed. Then it curled at the end.
It looked almost like a path.
“Is that for us?” Aoife whispered.
The moonlight shimmered.
Aoife held Button close and put one foot on the glowing path. It felt warm, like a blanket left beside the fire. The path rose gently from the floor, passed through the window without opening it, and carried Aoife into the night.
The garden was not quite her garden anymore.
The grass was silver. The daisies slept in little white circles. Beyond the fence stood a row of apple trees Aoife had never seen before. Their branches bent low under glowing golden apples.
A wooden sign hung from the first tree.
Pony Orchard.
The tiny bell rang again.
Between two apple trees stood a small pony. She was no taller than Aoife’s shoulder. Her coat was the colour of warm milk, and her mane should have been silver, Aoife thought, because everything else in the orchard seemed touched by moonlight.
But the pony’s mane was dull and grey. It hung over one eye like a little rain cloud.
Around her neck was a tiny bell on a blue ribbon.
“Hello,” Aoife said softly.
The pony stepped back.
“That’s all right,” Aoife said. “I won’t come too close.”
The pony looked at Button, then at Aoife.
“My name is Aoife. This is Button. He is very kind, but he doesn’t talk much when he’s sleepy.”
The pony gave the smallest snort. It sounded almost like a giggle.
“I’m Mallow,” said the pony.
Her voice was quiet, like wind moving through curtains.
Mallow looked down at her hooves. “I’m supposed to lead the other ponies to the Star Apple tree tonight. It only blooms when the moon is high.”
Through the trees, Aoife could see more ponies waiting in a little group. Some were speckled like starlight. One had a mane that floated around her neck like mist.
“That sounds important,” Aoife said.
“It is.” Mallow’s ears drooped. “But what if I go the wrong way? What if the others think I’m silly? What if my bell rings too loudly?”
Aoife looked at the tiny bell. It was hardly loud enough to wake a moth.
“I don’t think your bell is too loud,” she said.
Mallow sighed. “My mane is supposed to glow when I’m ready. But look.”
She shook her head. Her grey mane flopped softly. Not a single sparkle came out.
Aoife knew what it felt like to be nervous. Sometimes her tummy felt full of fluttering leaves.
“You don’t have to feel brave all at once,” Aoife said. “Maybe you only have to take the first step.”
Mallow looked at her. “Just one?”
“Just one.”
The pony lifted one hoof and placed it on the path between the apple trees.
A tiny silver spark appeared at the end of her mane.
Mallow gasped. “Did you see?”
“I did,” said Aoife.
“Would you walk beside me?” asked Mallow.
“Yes,” said Aoife. “Button can come too.”
So Aoife, Button, and Mallow walked into Pony Orchard together.
The trees rustled above them, though there was no wind. Fireflies drifted between the branches, blinking slowly, as if they were trying not to wake the night. Every now and then, an apple gave a soft golden pulse.
At the first turning, the path split into three.
Mallow stopped. “Oh no.”
Aoife looked carefully. The left path had flowers shaped like little trumpets. The middle path had smooth white stones. The right path had tiny hoofprints glowing in the dirt.
“Maybe the hoofprints know the way,” Aoife said.
“They’re very small,” said Mallow.
“So is your bell,” Aoife said. “Small things can still know where they’re going.”
Mallow’s mane gave another shimmer.
They followed the hoofprints to a narrow stream.
“I don’t like jumping,” Mallow whispered.
“You don’t have to jump.”
Aoife pointed to three flat stones resting in the water. “Step, step, step.”
Aoife crossed first, holding Button high. Then Mallow followed. Her hooves clicked softly on the stones.
Step.
Step.
Step.
When she reached the other side, her mane brightened from grey to soft silver.
“I’m doing it,” Mallow whispered.
“You are,” said Aoife.
They walked deeper into the orchard. The other ponies followed at a distance now, quiet and trusting. Aoife could hear their hooves in the grass, a gentle sound like rain tapping on leaves.
At last they reached a clearing.
In the middle stood the Star Apple tree.
It was taller than all the others. Its branches stretched up into the sky, and instead of leaves, it held hundreds of tiny silver lights. The apples were deep gold, and each one had a little star tucked inside it, turning slowly.
Mallow stepped forward.
Her mane shone bright silver now, soft but clear, like moonlight on water.
The waiting ponies bowed their heads.
“You found it,” said Aoife.
“We found it,” said Mallow.
A golden apple drifted down from the tree and floated towards Aoife. It was warm in her hands.
“Make a sleepy wish,” said Mallow. “That’s what Star Apples are for.”
Aoife closed her eyes.
She wished that Mallow would remember how brave she had been. Then she wished that every child who felt nervous could find one small first step.
The apple glowed softly, then melted into golden light. It floated around Aoife’s shoulders like a shawl.
Mallow touched her nose to Aoife’s hand.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You did the brave part,” Aoife said.
Mallow’s bell rang once more.
Ting.
The moonlight path appeared beside Aoife’s feet again. The orchard began to grow misty at the edges.
“I think it’s time for bed,” said Aoife.
“Bedtime comes even to Pony Orchard,” said Mallow.
Aoife hugged Button and stepped onto the moonlit path. The apple trees waved their branches. The ponies lowered their sleepy heads. Mallow stood beneath the Star Apple tree, her silver mane glowing gently in the dark.
The path carried Aoife back through the garden, through the window, and into her room.
Her feet touched the rug.
Her blanket was still turned down. Her pillow was still soft. Button slipped back beside her as if he had never left.
But on the windowsill, where the moonlight rested, Aoife saw one tiny golden sparkle.
Outside, very far away, a bell rang once.
Ting.
Aoife smiled, tucked the silver star blanket under her chin, and closed her eyes.
Somewhere in her dream, a brave little pony was leading the way through a quiet orchard, and all the apples glowed like sleepy stars.