By: Angela Mazzola

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“Bedtime, girls! Bedtime!”

Two little bodies scampered beneath the covers, giggles echoing as they snuggled into their pillows. The soft glow of the nightlight painted stars on the ceiling.

“Bedtime story, Mommy!” they cried in unison.

Their mother smiled, tired but warm, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Of course, my loves. How about the story of the big blue monster—and how to win the fight?”

“Yes!” they whispered, eyes wide with anticipation.

She took a slow breath, as she always did before telling this story.

“Once upon a time, there was a big blue monster. But you must remember this, always: he wasn’t always a monster. Once, he was kind. He had warm hands and laughed at silly jokes. He made pancakes in the morning and kissed foreheads goodnight.”

“But what happened to him?” the older one asked, her voice quiet.

“He forgot who he was,” their mother said softly. “Sometimes, people get lost inside their own storms.”

The room fell silent for a beat.

“But if the big blue monster comes into your room,” she continued gently, “what do we do?”

“Stay quiet,” said the younger girl, gripping her stuffed rabbit.

“Hide if we have to,” the older one added, voice steady.

“Be brave,” they both said together.

Their mother nodded. “And remember, the monster’s storm is not your fault. It never was.”

“Does the monster still love us?” the younger one asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Their mother blinked back the sting in her eyes. “I think… somewhere deep down, he wants to. But love should never be scary.”

She leaned down, kissed their foreheads, and pulled the blanket up to their chins.

“Sleep safe, my brave girls,” she whispered, “Mommy’s here.”