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The station wanted a moon mosaic for its garden wall. Maya drew a perfect circle and asked every friend to bring smooth pieces of colored paper.
Pip cut neat blue squares. Ada made pale triangles. Comet brought a handful of uneven shapes that looked more like crumbs than moon pieces.
Maya nearly set his pieces aside. They would make her circle untidy. But Comet had spent the afternoon choosing each one, and she asked what he imagined.
“Little paths between the big pieces,” he said. “Like moonlight between leaves.”
They arranged the shapes without pasting. The large pieces left narrow spaces. Comet’s small pieces fit into many of them. A few gaps still remained.
Nell suggested letting the dark paper underneath show through. “A moon does not have to be one flat color.”
Maya stepped back. The circle was not as smooth as her drawing, but it had a bright center, quiet edges, and little trails of silver.
The gardener helped paste it safely to a board. Beside the mosaic, Maya wrote the names of everyone who had worked on it.
When they looked at it after sunset, Comet found his tiny silver pieces first. Maya found her circle. Neither had disappeared. Their ideas had become part of a moon that no one friend could have made alone.
