Chapter Nine: Ten Little Umbrellas Open Together

The next day, every villager brought an umbrella—not to keep the rain away, but to open upside down.

The ox’s looked like a great mushroom. The mouse’s was no wider than a biscuit. The hedgehog forgot that an umbrella could block the view, took three steps, and walked straight into a haystack. Everyone laughed very softly, so their laughter would not frighten Mallow back into the sky.

When the first umbrella opened, Mallow released one drop. When the second opened, the cloud sent two more. Umbrellas opened one after another, and the rain slowly changed from a single note into a little song.

The soil around the bellflowers darkened. Ten teacups filled with skies of ten different depths. Mallow grew smaller and then gathered moisture again from the stream and leaves, practicing like someone learning how to breathe.

When the tenth umbrella was ready, Mallow finally sent a rain that was just enough.

No one said, “A little more.” They only lifted their umbrellas higher so Mallow could see that every drop was being carefully received.