The Moon Who Wanted a Name
Once upon a dreamy night, in the deep velvet sky, a little moon watched over the world—but something always felt… missing.
All the stars had names. There was Polaris, the North Star. Vega twinkled brightly with pride. Even the planets had names—Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and more.
But the moon? No one ever called it by a name.
Just “the moon.”
Every night, it glowed softly above sleeping towns, shimmering oceans, and silent forests. It lit up the world below—but deep inside, the moon felt… alone.
“I wish I had a name,” whispered the moon one night, as a cool breeze floated past.
To the moon’s surprise, the breeze replied, “Why not ask the world? Someone must know.”
So the moon began a gentle journey across the sky, floating a little lower than usual, just enough to listen.
First, it passed over a sleepy hill where a wise old owl blinked up.
“Mr. Owl,” said the moon, “do you know my name?”
The owl tilted his head. “To me, you’re the Night Light, the one who helps me hunt. But is that your name? Hmm, I don’t know…”
Next, the moon glided over the sea, where dolphins leapt through moonbeams.
“Lovely moon,” they sang, “to us, you’re the Tide Dancer—you pull the waves with your silver strings!”
The moon smiled, but it still wasn’t sure.
Then it reached a quiet village, where a little girl named Amira sat by her window, hugging her teddy bear.
She looked up and whispered, “Goodnight, Luna. You’re my friend in the sky.”
The moon froze. Luna.
It echoed like a lullaby across the clouds.
“Luna…” the moon repeated softly.
It was the sweetest sound it had ever heard.
And just like that, the moon felt seen—really seen. It had a name.
That night, the moon glowed a little brighter, not from the sun’s reflection, but from joy.
From then on, the stars called her Luna. The breeze sang her name. The dolphins leapt in her light. And Amira waved at her sky-friend every single night.
Because even the moon deserves to be known.
And now, you know her name too.
Goodnight, Luna.
Goodnight, little dreamer.
The end.