The illustrated edition of my story for children, Old Grandpa Moon, preserved here with kind permission and very special thanks to Olga Álvarez Rubio.

 

 

Old Grandpa Moon

 

Story by William Michaelian

Illustrations by Olga Álvarez Rubio

 

 

The whole great countryside was asleep.

 

The night was clear and cold,

 

and the stars were winking

 

above the farmhouses and fields.

 

 

But inside an old stone cottage,

 

there was one little boy

 

who could not sleep.

 

It was Simon.

 

Simon was still awake, because Grandpa,

 

who always slept beside him,

 

was snoring too loudly.

 

“Lo-ho, lo-ho,”

 

Grandpa said as he breathed in,

 

and as he breathed out.

 

“Ho-ho, lo-ho.”

 

It was now very late,

 

and Simon didn’t know what to do.

 

Quietly, he sat up and looked around the room.

 

 

Papa was stretched out asleep by the fireplace,

 

and Mama was there beside him.

 

Grandma, who always seemed so busy

 

during the day, was sound asleep in her chair,

 

cozy beneath her favorite quilt.

 

Big Brother was asleep, and Sister too.

 

Even the family’s lazy old dog, Bobo, was asleep.

 

Everyone was asleep but Simon!

 

Simon lay back down beside Grandpa,

 

feeling like the only person in the world

 

who was still awake.

 

Meanwhile, Grandpa went right on snoring.

 

“Lo-ho,” he said. “Lo-ho.”

 

 

Simon tried putting his hands over his ears,

 

but he heard the snoring anyway.

 

Then he rolled himself up into a little ball.

 

But that didn’t do a bit of good.

 

 

He unrolled himself and closed his eyes

 

as tight as he could.

 

He whispered the word Sleep over and over.

 

That almost worked, but a few minutes later

 

his eyes popped open by themselves

 

and Simon was more awake than ever.

 

Well, if Simon couldn’t fall asleep,

 

then he would have to think of some way

 

to make Grandpa stop snoring.

 

At the same time he knew

 

he must not disturb his grandfather,

 

because he worked hard all day

 

and needed his rest.

 

Simon’s first idea was to poke Grandpa

 

in the stomach with his little finger.

 

 

He did this, ever so lightly.

 

But it didn’t work.

 

“Lo-ho, lo-ho,” Grandpa snored.

 

Then he remembered how much Grandpa

 

liked ripe tomatoes and fresh green cucumbers.

 

So he whispered softly in his ear,

 

“Grandpa, are you hungry?

 

The tomatoes and cucumbers are ripe.”

 

 

But that didn’t work either,

 

and Grandpa kept on snoring.

 

“Lo-ho, lo-ho,” he said.

 

Simon couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed.

 

But then he remembered something Grandpa

 

liked even better than tomatoes and cucumbers,

 

and that was Grandma’s raisin pie.

 

Grandma made the best raisin pie in the world.

 

“Grandpa?” whispered Simon again.

 

“There’s a big raisin pie baking in the oven.

 

I think it’s almost ready.”

 

“Lo-ho, lo-ho-ho,” answered Grandpa.

 

 

Now Simon was beginning to wonder

 

if Grandpa would ever stop snoring.

 

But just then he remembered how much

 

his grandfather liked to go fishing

 

during the summer.

 

“Grandpa, let’s go fishing,”

 

Simon whispered hopefully.

 

But, “Lo-ho-ho, lo-ho-ho,” snored Grandpa.

 

 

“Grandpa, the cows are singing in the barn,” said Simon.

 

“Ho-and-lo, lo-and-ho,” snored Grandpa.

 

 

“Grandpa, the horses are dancing in the garden.”

 

“Heave-ho,” answered Grandpa, “heave-ho.”

 

 

“Grandpa, the chickens are up on the roof,” said Simon.

 

“Happity-lo, hippity-ho,” snored Grandpa.

 

 

“Grandpa, there’s corn in your ear.”

 

 

“And a crow in the snow,”

 

snored Grandpa,

 

“a crow in the snow.”

 

 

Well, it was just no use!

 

Simon had tried everything he could think of,

 

and Grandpa was still snoring!

 

Only now, he was snoring louder than ever!

 

Simon sat up again

 

and looked around the room.

 

Everyone was still asleep — Papa and Mama

 

by the fireplace,

 

Grandma in her chair,

 

Big Brother and Sister,

 

and even lazy old Bobo.

 

But how could they sleep with all that noise?

 

Simon lay back down.

 

Then he looked out the window

 

and up at the night sky.

 

 

A big round moon was just coming up.

 

And how many stars there were!

 

One couldn’t hope to count them all,

 

not even in a million years.

 

“One, two, three,”

 

Simon said to himself.

 

The moon rose a little higher.

 

“Four, five, six.”

 

And the stars shined a little brighter.

 

“Seven, eight, nine.”

 

For some reason, Simon’s eyes felt heavy.

 

 

It wasn’t easy to keep them open.

 

But he must, because there were

 

so many stars,

 

and he had to count them all.

 

“Ten, eleven, twelve.”

 

Simon didn’t know it,

 

but he was almost asleep.

 

“Thirteen . . . fourteen . . . fifteen . . .”

 

And the whole great countryside was quiet,

 

except for Grandpa’s snoring.

 

Then, lo-ho, the moon went down,

 

and one by one

 

the stars all turned into butterflies.

 

 

Written in 1993. Published here in 2023.

Story Copyright © William Michaelian. Illustrations Copyright © Olga Álvarez Rubio.

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