"Aunt Kira! Aunt Kira!" a small voice whispered.
Kira rolled over and opened her eyes groggily. "Hey, Molly, what's going on?"
"Can I sleep with you?" Molly asked.
"Are you afraid of the storm?"
"No," said Molly, shaking her head quickly, "I'm brave!" Thunder cracked outside and Molly jumped.
Kira sat up and patted the mattress. Molly climbed onto the bed, and Kira put her arm around her. "You know, Molly, I get scared of storms sometimes."
"You do?" said Molly, wide-eyed. "But you're a grown up!"
"I know. Even grown ups get scared sometimes. It's okay to be scared."
"But how do you sleep when you're scared of the storm?"
"When I was your age, my mother told me that even the worst storms were a gift from the Prophets."
Molly looked at the rain pelting the window and the trees tossed about by the raging wind, all illuminated by flashes of lightning as bright as the sun. It didn't seem like much of a gift.
"Why would the Prophets send something so scary and dangerous?"
"Because sometimes it's good for people to be reminded how small we are."
"But I know I'm small!" Molly protested. "Why do I need a storm to tell me?"
Kira laughed. "Storms make me feel small too, you know."
"But you're a grown up," Molly reminded her.
"You're right, I am. But even I can feel small when there's a storm like this. But do you know what makes me feel better?"
Molly shook her head.
"I look around and I remember that I'm in a sturdy house, in a warm bed, close to people I love." She gave Molly a squeeze. "I feel safe, and warm, and protected by my family and my community. That's what the Prophets are reminding us of - that we're not alone."
"I do feel better now that I'm not alone," Molly agreed.
"I'm glad," said Kira, squeezing Molly again. "You can spend the night here if it helps."
"Thank you."