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Érase una vez hubo un niño pequeño. Él parece ser su medio pequeño.
Pero dentro de poco este muchacho era la cabeza de una maravillosa
rueda de hilado que hilar historias y aventuras.
Los padres del niño se molesta que tenían que venir a la escuela. Se
les molesta que su imaginación está tomando más y que interfiera con la
escuela. "Deje de perseguir después de moonbeams, y ser un hombre", sus
padres le diría. "No hay tales cosas como los dragones y los
extranjeros. Haga que su cabeza fuera de las nubes, su tiempo para
crecer ". El muchacho tenía heartbroken. ¿Por qué no entienden?
"Luna, dónde estás, he perdido usted tanto! Estoy tan mal por las cosas
que he dicho a usted. He estado tan triste sin tu amistad. Es que allá
arriba? "Un poco de media luna, como el pedazo de Luna peeked de lo que
parecía un gigantesco negro Frisbee. Cuando en el cielo el nombre de
Luna hizo encontrar un disco volador que las grandes? Boy pensamiento.
Un poco más de la Luna peeked a cabo desde detrás de la disco.
Boy sonrió de manera amplia, piensa que sus mejillas ... "crack" que
había sido tanto tiempo desde que él había hecho eso. "Luna, veo que se
esconden tras ella. Por favor, salgan. Vamos a ser amigos de nuevo. No
quiero que usted se llaga a mí ... ya tengo una nueva historia, sobre
algunos valientes niños, y una lejana tierra que sólo se puede llegar a
por un armario mágico. Y hay un Rey que es un noble león. leí acerca de
ello en un libro en la biblioteca ". Y así que él comenzó su historia y
en gran medida a su alegría se vio como la Luna se coaxed cajoled y de
sombra detrás de su escondite. En un primer momento se dio cuenta que
estaba todavía adolorido porque parecía que el Boy's papá hizo cuando
la cortadora de césped no empezar y cussed y fussed a que hasta su
rostro resultó rojo. Pero por el momento en que el Boy teje su historia
de luchas y triunfo, llegó desde atrás por completo el disco y era
justo brillante brillante como ella nunca lo hizo, plena y pálido y
brillante, sus vigas de acariciar la mejilla y los muchachos mirando
hacia abajo a él con la más pura de amor.
"Luna, esto es, probablemente, nuestra última visita juntos y esta será
mi última historia para usted, como tengo que ir a casa pronto, pasado
donde está y más allá del horizonte final". Fue perplejo de ver su
sonrisa de nuevo a él como si ella no había oído hablar de él y estaba
esperando por su próxima historia que contar. "Luna, ¿no me escuchas?
No voy a estar aquí en su próxima visita, voy a ser pasado ". "Boy", la
Luna crooned a él, "Silly Boy, mi querida Boy. ¿Te acuerdas de esa
noche, después de que usted me envió lejos, cuando me escondía detrás
de las sombras? "" Sí, me acuerdo ", dijo. "¿Te acuerdas que deseen que
hemos compartido?" El hombre estaba perplejo. "Boy, que la noche era
una noche magickal. Nuestro deseo se puede conceder, si todavía desea
que se hagan realidad. Ven conmigo Boy, venir y jugar conmigo para toda
la eternidad. Venga y me dicen sus historias más antiguas y algunas
nuevas historias. Todo lo que tienes que hacer es deseo en voz alta
Boy, y usted puede acompañarme en mis viajes alrededor de los Cielos.
¿Desea que Boy? "
Hasta el día de hoy, usted puede verlo hasta allí, para comprobar la
mejilla con el amor de su vida, si se mira bastante difícil. Verás que
es el hombre en la Luna.
He was quite crafty too. He would build forts out of cardboard boxes
which became mighty fortresses to keep the armies at bay. When his
family went to the beach he always had the biggest and best
sandcastles with moats and turrets. He even built go carts out of
spare parts from the dump. He could always find a way to act out his
adventures.
His schoolmates didn’t really understand the boy and thought his
stories and pretending were strange so they never picked him to be on
their teams, or saved him a seat on the bus, or invited him to eat with
the Lunchtime Brigade which had their own little spot under the tree in
the school courtyard and exchanged tuna, peanut butter and bologna
sandwiches.
And so in his solitude the boy took to sitting on the roof of the house
at night and talking to the moon.
One day, after a particularly hard day at school, the Boy got in trouble
for writing about talking to the Moon, when the assignment was to
present a book report on lunar cycles. The Boy’s parents were called
into a conference with his teachers to discuss his daydreaming, stories
and "anti-social" behavior.
The Boy’s parents were upset that they had to come in to the school.
They were upset that his imagination was taking over and interfering
with school. “Stop chasing after moonbeams, and be a man,” his
parents would say. “There are no such things as dragons and aliens.
Get your head out of the clouds, its time to grow up”. The Boy was
heartbroken. Why didn’t they understand?
After 28 days, the moon returned and shone brightly over the Boy’s
house, eager to hear what new adventures the Boy would spin for her.
The Boy was not at his usual perch on the roof and so she continued
on her nightly journey, shining just a little less brightly.
By the fourth night, she became lonely and missed the boy dearly.
"Boy, Boy, where are you? I’m ready for some new tales. Why have
you not come out to talk to me, Boy?” She shone her moonbeams
extra brightly and continued to call out to him until he finally came
out; up onto the rooftop he climbed. She was puzzled at his tightly
pursed face and knit brow, and he stood up extra tall, with his little
fists balled on his hips. “Boy, where have you been? I've missed
your....” "I’m growing up and have no time to chase after moonbeams!
I have to keep my head out of the clouds, don’t you know that?" The
boy was shaking and redfaced. Moon was surprised at his anger and
wondered why he was so cross. “But Boy, I want to hear about
mermaids and white whales and...” "There’s no such thing as white
whales and mermaids, they’re just stories! Now go away and leave me
alone!” he yelled, tears shining in the moonlight. He shimmied back
down into his window and closed the blinds tight, shutting Moon out of
his room. Moon was crushed and continued on her journey, weeping
moon dust and sprinkling it onto the treetops and snowcapped
mountains in her wake.
Weeks passed and in those days the boy had become unsettlingly
quiet, pale and thin. His mother became very worried and talked to
him. He had barely said two words in weeks. “Mijito, what’s wrong,
why don’t you laugh and talk anymore?” He looked up at her with his
large, chestnut brown eyes and they filled and overflowed with
sadness. He still uttered no sound. She then understood, as most
mothers do. She told him they were wrong and that he should stay a
little boy for as long as he could. Childhood is measured out by
sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows.
She held him tight for a long time and he breathed in the baked bread
smell of her cinnamon brown hair. He could feel most of the
unhappiness melt down through his feet.
About a week later, the boy sat in his bed waiting for Moon to show.
Hours and hours passed, and he woke up in a start fearing he had
missed her. There was an odd, rusty tinge to the skies and he climbed
out onto the roof and looked up at the sky to find what may have been
Moon, only reversed. Where her cool, pale white face once stood, he
only saw darkness and moonlight only shining on the very tippy ends
of the void, like a halo around an angel’s crown.
“Moon, where are you, I’ve missed you so much! I’m so sorry for the
things I said to you. I’ve been so sad without your friendship. Is that
you up there?” A little crescent-like piece of Moon peeked out from
what looked like a gigantic black Frisbee. Where in heaven's name did
Moon find a Frisbee that big? Boy thought. A little bit more of the
Moon peeked out from behind the disk.
Boy smiled so broadly, he thought his cheeks would crack...it had been
so long since he had done that. "Moon, I see you hiding behind there.
Please come out. Lets be friends again. I don’t want you to be sore at
me anymore... I have a new story, about some brave children, and a
faraway land that you can only get to by a magical wardrobe. And
there’s a King who is a noble lion. I read about it in a book at the
library”. And so he commenced his story and much to his joy he
watched as Moon was coaxed and cajoled from behind her shadowy
hiding place. At first he could tell she was still sore because she
looked like the Boy’s dad did when the lawnmower wouldn’t start and
he cussed and fussed at it till his face turned red. But by the time the
Boy weaved his tale of battles and triumph, there she came completely
from behind the disc and was just shining bright as she ever did, full
and pale and glowing, her beams caressing the boys cheek and looking
down at him with the purest of love.
The Man knew his days on this Earth were soon coming to an end.
What was he going to do without his beloved Moon? He decided to say
goodbye to her on her next visit as he was surely positive he wouldn’t
make it to the one after that.
“Moon, this is probably our last visit together and this will be my last
story to you, as I have to go home soon, past where you are and
beyond the final horizon”. He was puzzled to see her smile back at
him as if she had not heard him and was waiting for his next tale to
tell. “Moon, did you not hear me? I won’t be here on your next visit, I
will be gone”. “Boy”, the Moon crooned to him, “Silly Boy, my beloved
Boy. Do you remember that night, after you sent me away, when I hid
behind the shadows?” “Yes, I remember”, he said. “Do you remember
that wish we shared?” The Man was puzzled. “Boy, that night was a
magickal night. Our wish can be granted, if you still wish it to come
true. Come with me Boy, come and play with me for all eternity. Come
and tell me your oldest stories and make up some new stories. All you
have to do is wish it out loud Boy, and you can accompany me on my
trips around the Heavens. Do you wish it Boy?”
The Man thought about his life. A life well lived, with no real regrets.
A clean, productive life. He had left his legacy with the birth of his
children so long, long ago, and the grandchildren that came and the
ones still left to come. He had also written several volumes of books
borne from the stories the Moon and his love for her had inspired.
That's when he decided. “I wish I never have to leave you again”, the
Boy said. “I wish I never have to leave you either, Boy”, said the
Moon. They laughed and talked until she had to be pushed away to
make room for the Sun. And they were happy.
To this day, you can see him up there, check to cheek with the love of
his life, if you look hard enough. You’ll see he’s the Man on the Moon.
Leticia A. 2007
How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon. From the slow opening
curtains of the clouds walking in beauty to her midnight throne!
-George Croly, Diana