Hanna’s grandfather was a poet. He danced with the words he spoke and the words he wrote. He melded syllables and rhymes and double entendres. Smashed them all together, ground them into dust, and blew them into glass all in an instant. To Hanna, her grandfather’s words were the most beautiful in the world, even when she didn’t understand them. On a warm summer’s evening, her grandfather said something that Hanna knew to be beautiful, but she didn’t understand it.
“Never turn your back on a smiling moon,” He said, leaning back into the rocking chair so that he and Hanna, still small enough to sit on his lap, could see the stars better. On this particular day, the moon was a sharp crescent, almost horizontal in the sky. Hanna could easily read a smile into the celestial body thousands of miles away. But it was curious to Hanna how someone was supposed to never turn their back on a smiling moon. Because the moon was up all night and she had a bedtime. She simply couldn’t stay up all through the night and watch the moon.
“What do I do when I have to go to bed?” Hanna asked.
Her grandfather chuckled. “Smile back, say thank you, and be grateful for her beauty. And when the time is right, keep the moon with you.” This made good enough sense to Hanna. So later that night when it was time to go to bed, Hanna and her grandfather smiled as big of smiles as they could, and said their thanks. As Hanna lay in bed, she turned her grandfather’s words over in her head again and again, writing them deep in her heart.
☽☽☽
Over time, Hanna’s grandfather lost his words. He could no longer dance, much less dance with the words that flowed from his mind. That river of poetic strength had slowed its pace to a crawl. Eventually, it stopped altogether. The flow of his words turned to the flow of his loved one’s tears. Hanna’s grandfather had asked to be cremated, with all the poems and letters and writings his family loved most to be used as the kindling. They sprinkled his ashes into the creek behind his house. The same one where he had passed so many words of wisdom on to Hanna and her siblings.
The night after the spreading of the ashes, Hanna sat alone in the rocking chair on the porch. It was fall, and the cold wind sunk its teeth into her, refusing to let go and grant her the solace of warmth. Hanna stood to return inside, and cast her gaze up to the sky. Inky gray clouds were forced along by the wind. A crescent moon pierced the cover for a brief moment. A beaming moon sat before her. Hanna smiled and she shuddered, from the cold and from the sobs that racked her frigid frame.
“Thank you” she forced out, between sobs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She murmured. By the time she had regained control of her body and looked to the sky once more, the moon was buried deep beneath the clouds. She gathered all the strength she could into the dozens of small muscles in her face and crafted a smile. “Thank you” she said, one more time, knowing that the moon was smiling back tonight.
☽☽☽
A couple of years later found Hanna several hundred miles away from the porch and the house and the spaces she shared with her grandfather. Hanna often found herself biking about in the moonlight. Whenever a crescent moon smiled down on her, she made sure to smile back and say her thanks to the moon and to her grandfather. On this particular night, Hanna was indoors. It was winter and the sun went down early in the day. Hanna and her friends had gotten takeout from the Chinese restaurant that everyone on campus recognized as the greatest food to ever bless the earth. Hanna and her friends shared rice and chicken and pork and beef and vegetables. Happy for the company and happy for the memories being made. Together, they all opened the complementary fortune cookies.
“It is time to turn advice into action” was printed on the thin paper slip. Hanna read the fortune aloud and then turned the paper over in her hands, again and again. Writing the fortune into her conscience.
The chinese food was only the opener for the night. Hanna drove across campus to a party with her friends. The moon that night was full. Hanna never had the mind to project a man into the scattered craters that could be seen on particularly clear nights. Though the moon didn’t smile at her, she still smiled as she gazed up into the sky.
The party was loud. This wasn’t surprising of course. Most parties tend to be loud, colorful, chaotic affairs. Hanna wasn’t a huge fan of those features of parties. But Hanna did love dancing and meeting new people. And those were things Hanna could do at most parties. After a few extremely intense rounds on the dance floor, Hanna excused herself and found a seat on the back patio. It wasn’t a particularly cold night, and the cool air felt good to the well warmed Hanna. A few moments after she sat down, the door to the patio opened and a girl Hanna hadn’t yet met stepped out. Wearing high heels and a silvery dress, she approached Hanna.
“Hi, I saw you dancing and I wanted to say that you’re really pretty and you seem really nice and fun.” She smiled. Hanna smiled right back
“Thank you, I’m Hanna by the way” She said, reaching out a hand.
“Nice to meet you Hanna, I’m Luna.” They shook hands, which was a rather platonic greeting. However their fingers lingered together in a particularly gentle way, and Hanna knew the time was right.
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