The Little Rainbow Who Learned to Rest
After the rain one afternoon, when the sun broke through the clouds, a brand-new rainbow stretched herself across the sky. She was the brightest, happiest thing for miles — red and orange and yellow, green and blue and violet — glowing over the wet and shining world.
The children below pointed and laughed. "A rainbow! A rainbow!" And the little rainbow beamed, and shone as hard as she could, so proud to make everyone smile.
But shining is hard work. As the afternoon slipped toward evening, the little rainbow began to feel tired. Her bright colours felt heavy. Her glow flickered, just a little.
"I don't want to fade," she said to the soft grey cloud beside her. "If I fade, I'll be gone. And everyone loves me when I shine."
"Oh, little one," said the cloud gently. "You don't disappear when you rest. You just… fold your colours away for a while, and let the sky grow dark and quiet, so everyone can sleep. That's a gift too."
"But will I come back?" asked the rainbow.
"Always," said the cloud. "Every time the rain and the sun dance together, there you'll be — fresh and bright and brand new. Resting doesn't end you. It's how you come back tomorrow."
So the little rainbow took a slow breath, and began to let go. First the violet softened, then the blue, then the green — each colour dimming gently, like a candle turned low. The sky went from gold to rose to deep, dreamy dark, and one by one the stars came out where her colours had been.
"Goodnight," whispered the little rainbow, as the last of her glow melted softly into the night. "See you after the rain."
And she rested — folded away safe behind the dark and sleeping sky — waiting, like everything else, for the morning.
And sure enough, the very next time the rain and the sun came out to play together, there she was again: brighter and happier than ever, arching all her colours across the sky.