Sarah was six years old, and she had a stuffed fox named Ginger. Ginger had a very long tail and a white patch on her chest. That night, Dad turned off the light and kissed her on the forehead.
But Sarah just couldn't fall asleep. Lots of things were going round and round in her head. Tomorrow was the spelling test, and she always mixed up some letters.
On Thursday, her class was going on a field trip to a farm, by bus. “What if I get carsick?” she thought, and pulled the covers up to her nose. And at recess, Lola had gotten upset about the swing.
“What if she doesn't want to play with me tomorrow?” Sarah rolled over. And again. And again.
“Dad,” she called softly. “I can't fall asleep.” Dad came back and sat on the edge of the bed. “I have too many things in my head,” said Sarah. “They don't fit.”
She told him all of them, one after another, very fast. “That's a lot, huh?” said Dad, and he stroked her hair. When Dad left, Sarah looked out the window: gray clouds were covering the moon.
“My worries are like those clouds,” she thought. “They don't let the light through.”
And then she had an idea. She switched on her little lamp and took out her colored pencils. On one sheet she drew a cloud, and inside it, a spelling test full of letters.
On another, a cloud with a bus. On another, a cloud with a swing. She cut them out carefully, right along the lines.
Then she grabbed the box from her new sneakers. “You're going to wait in here until tomorrow,” she told the clouds. She put them in one by one and closed the lid.
Then she sat Ginger on top, nice and straight. “You're on guard, Ginger. Don't let a single one escape.” Mom peeked through the door, because she'd seen the light on.
“What's that, Sarah?” “It's my worry box. Tomorrow I'll take them out and look at them, one at a time.” “And if you want, we can look at them together,” said Mom, smiling.
Sarah climbed back into bed. Her head felt much lighter. Outside the window, the clouds had drifted apart, and the moon was peeking through. Sarah yawned, snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes.
Goodnight, Sarah…
