The Goat Who Watched Over Sleeping Flowers – How Gilly Guarded the Garden Through the Night
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On the edge of a quiet meadow, where wildflowers swayed in the breeze and the moonlight kissed the grass, there lived a gentle goat named Gilly.
Gilly wasn’t a noisy goat who stomped and bleated. She was quiet and thoughtful, with soft white fur and kind, sleepy eyes. Her favourite place in the world was the flower garden at the top of the hill. Each morning, the blooms opened with joy, sunflowers stretching tall, daisies waving happily, and lavender dancing in the air.
But when the sun went down, the flowers slowly closed their petals and fell into a gentle slumber. And every night, Gilly would tiptoe up the hill and take her place among them.
The Goat Who Stayed Awake
Gilly had made herself a cozy spot beside the tallest marigold, with a blanket of fallen petals and moss beneath her. As the stars appeared and the breeze grew cooler, she sat perfectly still.
She wasn’t there to sleep.
She was there to watch over the sleeping flowers. “I’ll keep you safe until morning,” she whispered gently to the blossoms.
Some animals found it silly.
“Flowers don’t need a guardian!” laughed the blue jay. But Gilly only smiled. She knew that everything that rests deserves to feel safe, even tiny flowers swaying in their dreams.
A Garden Full of Dreams
As the moon climbed higher, the garden glowed with silver light. Fireflies blinked lazily, and the wind carried soft scents of mint and rose.
Gilly kept watch with calm eyes and a warm heart. Sometimes she would hum a little tune, and the flowers seemed to sway, even in their sleep, as if dancing in their dreams.
She imagined what they might be dreaming of, fields of sunshine, buzzing bees, soft rain, and children’s laughter echoing through the day. And when a curious moth fluttered by or a sleepy beetle rustled the leaves, Gilly stayed still and quiet, letting the garden rest.
Until the Morning Comes
When the sky began to turn the softest shade of pink, the first sunflower opened one eye. The petals stretched, and the garden slowly woke with yawns of color.
Gilly smiled sleepily. Her job was done. She gave each flower a fond look, turned gently down the hill, and found her own cozy spot beneath the shade of an old oak tree. And as the flowers bloomed and swayed in the morning light, Gilly finally closed her eyes. So if you ever wonder who keeps the flowers safe while you sleep, just remember the gentle goat on the hill.
Goodnight, little dreamer. Let your heart bloom gently in the quiet of the night.
The End !
Nadeera Nilupamali
Nadeera Nilupamali
. 300 Stories
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