The attic was dark. But Selenga was curious.
With her mother's permission, she climbed the narrow stairs. Flashlight in hand, she stepped carefully through the shadows.
Old boxes. Old clothes. Old books.
Then in a corner—a small wooden box with a silver lid.
She wiped away the dust. A tiny key hung beside it.
She turned it.
Music began. Tink... tink... tink...
And Selenga's eyes closed.
The First Dream
Selenga stood in a meadow. Everything was green. Tiny flowers dotted the grass. Blue mountains stretched across the horizon.
A butterfly landed on her hand. Then another. Then hundreds.
Selenga laughed with pure joy.
Then the music stopped. Her eyes opened.
She was back in the attic.
She turned the key again.
The Second Dream
This time she was walking on water. The ocean held her up, but she didn't sink.
Fish leaped around her. Dolphins sang songs she could almost understand.
Islands dotted the horizon. Each one glowed with different colors.
“Which island should we visit?” asked a dolphin.
“All of them,” said Selenga.
The dolphin smiled. “The right answer.”
The music stopped.
The Third Dream
A library appeared. But not an ordinary one—books flew through the air. Shelves stretched to the ceiling. Staircases seemed to have no end.
A book floated toward Selenga. It opened by itself.
Inside was a picture of Selenga. Beneath it read: "This is your story. It hasn't been written yet."
Selenga smiled.
The music stopped.
Time to Choose
Selenga held the music box. Her finger touched the key but she paused.
Which one? Which dream should she choose?
The butterflies? The ocean? The flying library?
Then she noticed something.
There was tiny writing on the box:
"Tonight you'll dream the dream you choose. But the most beautiful dream is the one still waiting to be written."
Selenga thought for a moment.
She closed the music box. She didn't turn the key.
Instead, she went to bed.
She closed her eyes.
That night, she dreamed a dream like no other—butterflies danced, the ocean sparkled, books flew around her, and in one of those books, she was writing her own story.
When she woke in the morning, she was smiling.
The most beautiful dream had been the one she created herself.
A Note for Parents
Perfect for bedtime. Short and sweet. Ask your child: “Which dream would you like to have tonight?”