Rafi’s Secret Lantern Test — Under the licorice smell of damp vines, Rafi pressed both paws to the biggest pumpkin in the patch and whispered, “One moon-signal, no grown-up paws.” He had set himself a secret challenge: carve a lantern bright enough for the night bat to spot from the old orchard gate. Read the full story →
Under the licorice smell of damp vines, Rafi pressed both paws to the biggest pumpkin in the patch and whispered, “One moon-signal, no grown-up paws.” He had set himself a secret challenge: carve a lantern bright enough for the night bat to spot from the old orchard gate. His comfy straw nest waited behind the fence, but the best tool was in Thimble Bat’s twig basket, swinging high in a crooked tree.
Rafi padded out through cold grass that tickled his stripes. He paid a small price for the bent silver scoop: the blue ribbon from his tail, perfect for tying tiny bundles. Scoop-scrape, scoop-scrape—pumpkin seeds slipped and shone like wet pearls. The first eye came out lopsided. The grin had one square tooth too many. Rafi nearly groaned, then carved around the mistake until the face looked like it knew a joke.
When he carried the lantern home, candle-smoke curled sweetly from its smile. Thimble Bat swooped once and clicked, “I saw it!” Rafi’s paws were sticky, his ribbon was gone, and his chest felt bigger than any pumpkin. If you spot that crooked grin among the vines, keep the secret: Rafi made one moon-signal, no grown-up paws.
