⏱ ~5 min reading
Somewhere far, far away, beyond the band of blue stars and wandering comets, there is a small planet. It is almost invisible from Earth - only sometimes, when the sky is clear and the evening is quiet, can you see how this planet gently twinkles among the others, like a delicate pearl in silver water.
This planet is special. Only children live on it. There are no adults. And, strangely enough, there is no need.
Because everything there is capable of doing its own thing.
Christmas trees, for example, decorate themselves. In the morning they stretch their branches, shake off star pollen and cling to themselves glass balls the color of morning dew. Ice cream on this planet never melts - neither white balls of vanilla, nor pink balls of strawberry, nor green drops of mint. It stands in silver vases on little clouds and waits for someone to run up and taste it.
The beds are also special. When a child goes to bed, a fairy tale is already embedded in the pillow. You don't have to read it to anyone - you close your eyes, and the fairy tale quietly flows into your dreams, like warm milk into a cup.
Sounds perfect, right?
From morning to noon, children on this planet play. They run on soft grass that smells of fresh frozen berries. They build houses from moon bread. They fly on large yellow butterflies with wings wider than a baby sheet. Laughter is heard everywhere - ringing, carefree, like mother-of-pearl bells.
But there is one strange thing.
Every evening, when the planet begins to get dark and the sky turns purple-blue, the children suddenly stop playing. They fold the butterflies' wings, put the ice cream back in the silver vases, put the balls under the Christmas trees. And quietly stand in a row at the edge of the planet - where the thin rainbow road down to Earth begins.
“Time to go home,” they whisper to each other.
Someone quietly asks:
— Will you come back tomorrow?
"Of course. I'm just going home to my mom for the night.".
And everyone nods in understanding.
Because no matter how beautiful it is on this wonderful planet, no matter how the stars dance and the butterflies flutter, there is one thing she cannot do. There is no mother on this planet.
Only on Earth is there a mother.
Only on Earth is there a warm hand that gently straightens the blanket. Only on Earth is there a cheek against which you can lean your cheek and feel how it smells of your mother's familiar aroma - a little bit of milk, a little bit of some distant field, a little bit of peace itself.
Only there can you fall asleep in each other's arms.
Only there is a real "I love you", a quiet one, spoken right in your ear by the one who gave birth to you.
That's why every evening the planet becomes empty. Children descend along the rainbow path - first big ones, then smaller ones, then very tiny ones, led by the hands of slightly older ones. On the way they laugh, look at each other, remember how delicious and fun it was. But each one walks faster and faster - because they know that there, at home, a warm yellow light is burning in the window. And mom is looking out. And waiting.
And the planet remains alone.
She doesn't miss. She understands well. She knows: it's right. Because mom is the most important place in the Universe. And no planet can replace her embrace.
The evening wind wanders through the empty streets. It carefully arranges forgotten balls under the Christmas trees, shakes off the stardust from the leaves, and extinguishes the lanterns that have lit up by themselves. At the very edges of the planet, fireflies flicker quietly, like little sleepy nightlights.
And the little planet lies in the middle of space, like a good toy that a child left on the shelf before going to bed. She will not be offended. She will wait. Because she knows the main secret: tomorrow morning, when the children on Earth wake up, they will run here again along the rainbow path. And they will laugh again, and play again. And at night - they will return home. Because it always happens like that.
One day, a little girl named Zoryana was walking down the stairs home especially slowly. She got stuck upstairs because she wanted to finish her strawberry ice cream so badly that she was a little late.
When she finally stepped onto the dirt path and ran to her room, her mother was already sitting on the edge of her bed. She wasn't angry. She was just smiling and holding out her arms.
— Come here, my little star.
Zoryana jumped into her arms, nuzzled her nose into her mother's neck, and fell silent. Her mother smelled of vanilla milk and a little lavender. Zoryana closed her eyes and thought, "It's delicious on that planet too. But only here is it really warm.".
“Mom,” she whispered, “do you know that somewhere there is a planet where there are only children?”
"I know, my dear," her mother ran her hand through her hair. "All mothers know. We let you go there in the morning and wait for you in the evening.".
Zoryana smiled in her sleep.
— I will always come back.
"I know," Mom said softly. "I'll always wait.".
And the girl fell asleep - in the soft warmth of her mother's arms, to her mother's quiet song. And far, far away, among the purple evening cosmos, a small planet shimmered gently. Because she also knew: tomorrow is another day. And in the evening - home again. Because without a mother, no ice cream is sweet. Without a mother, no fairy tale is complete. Because a mother is the heart of our world.
✨ The sweetest ice cream in the world can't compare to a mother's hug ✨