Ari and the Moon Robot

Ari lived on the tenth floor of a tall building, in a room with a round window. Every night, when the street lamps came on, Ari pressed a nose to the glass and wondered, “Is anybody up there on the moon?”

(Give Bolt a tinkly music-box voice.)

One night, tap, tap, tap, something small knocked on the window. It was a little silver robot, no taller than a teapot, with eyes that blinked like tiny stars. “Hello,” it whispered, in a voice like a music box. “I’m Bolt. I’m collecting the best wishes in the world to carry back to the moon.”

Ari opened the window, and Bolt hummed in, whirr, click, whirr, and settled on the pillow. “What is a wish?” asked Bolt. “We don’t have them on the moon. It is very quiet up there.”

Ari thought hard. “A wish is something you hope for. Like a friend, or a warm hug, or a good dream for everybody.” Bolt’s lights glowed. “That sounds beautiful,” said Bolt. “Could I take one of yours?”

(Whisper Ari’s wish.)

Ari thought about the whole sleeping city: the bakers, the owls, the grandmas and grandpas, the tiny babies. Then Ari leaned close and whispered into Bolt’s open hand, “I wish everyone sleeps well tonight.”

Bolt closed its hand very, very carefully. The wish glowed through its fingers like a firefly. “Thank you,” said Bolt. “That is the best one I have ever collected.”

Bolt zoomed up, whoosh, past the rooftops, past the clouds, past the sleepy birds, all the way to the moon. And the moon shone a little brighter and a little warmer over every window in the city.

(Slow down for the last page and let your voice get sleepy.)

Ari watched from the window until the glow made both eyes heavy. Now whenever the moon shines, Ari knows a little wish is shining there too. Ari yawned, tucked in under the blanket, and slept the best sleep ever. Goodnight, Ari. Goodnight, Bolt. Goodnight, you.