Mina and the Star Key, Part 4: The Moon-Dust Bridge

Mina and the Star Key, Part 4: The Moon-Dust Bridge

The Story Begins

That evening, the little silver star key in Mina's yellow cardigan pocket grew warm.

"Piko," Mina whispered, "I think it wants to go somewhere."

Piko, a tiny glowing butterfly with a round little body, flew up from her shoulder and made a small circle in the air.

"Does the little key have feet?" he asked cheerfully.

Mina gave a quiet laugh. Then she found a hidden little door by the old fence. It was as low as two hands side by side, and it had a painted silver star on it. The key fit perfectly.

Click.

Behind the door there was no hall and no room. There was a soft path beneath the evening sky. The grass beside it shone with a gentle blue light, and drops of dew sparkled in the tiny flowers.

Mina stepped forward carefully. Piko settled on her shoulder, and his warm golden glow showed the path.

After a while, they came to a small stream. The water was shallow and quiet. It flowed between smooth pebbles and made only a soft shhh, shhh.

Once, a short path of round stones crossed the stream. Now the stones lay scattered on the bank, in the water, and in the grass. A dry leaf rolled between them.

"The wind scattered them in the night," said Mina.

On the other side, she saw a small green door. It had a brass handle, and above it hung a round little lamp. The lamp was not lit. It simply waited calmly.

"That's where we want to go," said Mina. "Let's cross right away."

She tried to move one stone closer to another. But it was too far away. Another stone was as small as a hazelnut, and the grass would not keep it still.

Just then, Piko flew to a bush by the bank.

Something silver glimmered beneath its leaves. It was not snow, and it was not sand. It looked like little lights from the night sky, spilled into a tiny hollow.

"Moon dust," Piko squeaked. "It tickles your nose."

Mina scooped up a big handful of the glittering dust. She wanted to make the whole bridge at once, from one bank to the other.

"Like this!" she cried, and poured the dust over the water.

But then a very light breeze came.

Whooosh.

The dust flew in every direction. Some fell into the grass, some settled on the stones, and a few sparkles landed on Piko's wings.

"I'm a glittery potato," Piko announced.

At first, Mina smiled. Then she tried again. This time she held the dust more tightly and pressed it between her palms, so the bridge would be strong.

But the moon dust slipped through her fingers.

"Oh," she frowned. "Why won't it stay?"

Once more, she scooped up a big handful. She poured it quickly, so the wind would not have time to blow it away. But the dust fell into the water like silver crumbs and disappeared at once.

The girl sat down in the soft grass. She pulled her red boots close and watched the stream for a while.

"I want to cross now," she said more quietly.

Piko settled on her knee. For a moment, he cleaned the glittering dots from one wing. Then he looked up.

"A bridge doesn't grow all at once," he said.

That was all.

Mina looked at the water again. The stream did not flow straight. Near the left bank, it curved gently around three grey stones. Then it became a little narrower, and near the green door it widened again.

When Things Start to Change

"Ah," she whispered.

The old stone path had not been straight either. Its pieces still showed the way. One stone lay by the bank. Another lay a little farther on. A third sparkled where the water made a small bend.

"The bridge can go here," she said, pointing. "A little to the side. Like the water."

Piko fluttered his wings softly.

Mina took only a tiny pinch of moon dust. She placed it on a firm stone near the bank. Then she pressed it gently with one finger.

The dust did not crumble.

It stayed there like a little silver cake.

"Wow," she breathed.

She took another pinch. She sprinkled it beside the first and pressed it softly again. This time she did not press hard. Only the way one smooths a blanket for a doll.

The second piece stayed in place too.

"A small step," said Piko.

"And one more," Mina nodded.

Slowly, she built the bridge. A bit of dust, a gentle press. Another bit of dust, poured slowly. In between, she watched the water, so she could curve the bridge in the right direction.

When she hurried, the little sparkles ran over her fingers. So each time, she stopped for a moment. She took a breath. Then she tried again.

The bridge grew low over the stream. It was not wide or big. It was just wide enough for Mina's little boots. It shimmered with soft moonlight, and tiny starry dots glowed along its edges.

At last, only the final piece near the other bank was missing.

Mina reached out her hand. She wanted to pour a lot of dust there at once, so it would be finished. But then she looked at the first two firm pieces near her feet.

She took only a small pinch.

She sprinkled it gently.

And pressed it carefully.

The bridge joined the other side.

"Done," Mina whispered.

Piko made a happy loop in the air. "Little bridge! Not potato!"

Mina laughed and tested the first piece with the tip of her boot. It held. Then she took one small step. Another. And one more.

The stream below her went on murmuring peacefully.

On the other side, the green door opened just a tiny bit by itself. Mina pushed it farther with her fingertip.

Behind it was a quiet place full of low mossy cushions. A narrow path led there, and until now it had ended at the stream. But thanks to the new bridge, it continued onward. The round lamp above the door lit up beside the path.

In its light, little shells, leaves, and grass gleamed.

"The path has been found," said Mina.

Piko nodded. "The path was waiting for small steps."

Mina liked that. She gently stroked the railing that was not really on the bridge; she was only imagining it. Then she looked back once more at the glittering path across the water.

The silver star key in her pocket glowed softly. Not brightly. Just enough for Mina to feel its warmth through her cardigan.

"Maybe there are more doors somewhere," she said.

Later, she and Piko went back across the moon bridge, quietly closed the little door by the fence, and put the key back into her pocket. On the way home, she walked slowly.

With every step, she remembered a firm piece of the bridge that had begun with an ordinary little pinch of dust.