Oona’s Moon-Thread Gift — Under the parlor window, Oona kept one blue ribbon tucked beneath her paw. Read the full story →
Under the parlor window, Oona kept one blue ribbon tucked beneath her paw. It smelled faintly of rain and cedar, the last ribbon from the basket where her kittens had first opened their eyes. When the curtain hook clicked in the draft, she heard a thin cheep outside, small as a squeaky hinge.
Oona slipped from the warm basket. The floorboards felt cold on her pads. Past the tall plant and the flowered curtains, she reached the sill and found a wren’s nest tilting in the window box, one twig away from spilling. No string, no straw, only moonlight. Oona pulled out her blue ribbon. “Hold still, little roof,” she whispered, and tied the nest to the strongest stem. The ribbon would smell of wind now, not kittens.
Back in the basket, five warm bodies pressed against her side, and one kitten paw landed exactly where the ribbon had been. Oona closed her eyes. Next time you notice the crescent moon beyond the curtains, see if you can imagine a blue ribbon shining under it, tucked safely into the night from beneath her paw.