Luna and Mr. Buttons

Luna clutched Mr. Buttons tighter as thunder rumbled outside her bedroom window. The old teddy bear's fur had worn thin from years of hugs, and one of his button eyes hung loose by a single thread, but to Luna, he was perfect.

"Don't worry," she whispered into his fuzzy ear. "The storm will pass soon."

Mr. Buttons didn't answer—at least, not out loud. But Luna felt his comfort in the way his soft body seemed to mold perfectly against hers, in the familiar scent of vanilla and sleepy afternoons that clung to his matted fur.

When Luna was three, Mr. Buttons had been there for her first day of preschool, tucked safely in her backpack. When she was five and scraped her knee learning to ride a bike, Mr. Buttons had absorbed her tears. Now, at seven, as she faced her family's move to a new city tomorrow, he was here again.

"What if the kids at my new school don't like me?" Luna asked, turning Mr. Buttons so his good eye looked directly at her.

She imagined his response in the gentle voice she'd given him years ago: They'll love you, just like I do. You're brave and kind and funny. Remember how you made Tommy laugh when he was crying about his hamster?

Luna smiled despite her worries. She did remember that. She'd told Tommy that his hamster was probably having grand adventures in hamster heaven, racing through tubes made of clouds.

Another flash of lightning lit up her room, and Luna saw the moving boxes stacked against the wall like cardboard soldiers. Everything was packed except for Mr. Buttons and her pillow.

"We'll have new adventures," she said, more to herself than to the bear. "Maybe there's a park with swings that go really high. Maybe there's a library with a reading corner just like this one."

She looked around her room one last time—at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling that Daddy had helped her arrange, at the height marks on the doorframe, at the window where she'd watched for the school bus every morning.

I'll miss this place too, she imagined Mr. Buttons saying. But home isn't really a place, is it? It's wherever we're together.

Luna hugged him close and felt her eyelids growing heavy. The thunder seemed quieter now, or maybe she was just braver. As sleep began to take her, she could almost hear Mr. Buttons humming the lullaby Mama used to sing, the one about dreams taking you anywhere you want to go.

The next morning came too quickly, filled with the chaos of last-minute packing and the rumble of the moving truck. Luna watched from her window as strangers carried away her bookshelf, her little table and chairs, even the rocking horse Grandpa had made for her fourth birthday.

"Luna, honey, time to go," Mama called from downstairs.

Luna carefully zipped Mr. Buttons into her special backpack, making sure his head poked out so he could see. As they walked through the empty house one final time, their footsteps echoed strangely in the hollow rooms.

"Goodbye, house," Luna whispered, touching the doorframe where her height marks used to be.

We'll always remember, Mr. Buttons seemed to say. And we'll make new memories too.

The car ride stretched for hours across highways and through small towns. Luna pressed her face to the window, watching the world change from familiar neighborhoods to rolling hills to a landscape she'd never seen before. Mr. Buttons sat in her lap, his button eye catching the sunlight that streamed through the window.

"Look, Mr. Buttons," Luna said as they passed a field full of horses. "Maybe we can visit them sometime."

Daddy glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. "I bet we can, sweetpea. The new house is close to lots of open spaces."

When they finally pulled into the driveway of their new home, Luna felt her stomach flutter with nervous butterflies. The house was smaller than their old one, painted yellow instead of blue, with a big oak tree in the front yard that she'd only seen in pictures.

"What do you think, Mr. Buttons?" she whispered.

As if in answer, a gray tabby cat appeared from behind the oak tree, meowing softly and approaching the car with curious green eyes.

"Oh my," said Mama, getting out of the car. "Looks like we have a welcoming committee."

Luna climbed out slowly, still holding Mr. Buttons. The cat walked right up to her and began purring, weaving around her legs.

"I think she likes you," Daddy said, ruffling Luna's hair.

That first night in the new house, everything felt strange. The walls were bare, boxes towered everywhere, and the sounds were all wrong—different creaks, different settling noises, the hum of an unfamiliar refrigerator downstairs.

Luna sat on her mattress on the floor, surrounded by boxes labeled "Luna's Room" in Mama's careful handwriting. She held Mr. Buttons close, feeling smaller than usual in the big empty space.

"I don't know if I like it here yet," she admitted to him.

That's okay, she imagined him replying. Remember when we first got your big girl bed? You missed your crib for three whole nights. But then you discovered you could make pillow forts.

Luna smiled a little. She had forgotten about that. And Mr. Buttons was right—she'd ended up loving that bed, especially once she figured out how to arrange all her stuffed animals around the edges like a fluffy fortress.

Over the next few weeks, Luna and Mr. Buttons explored their new world together. They discovered that the oak tree in the front yard was perfect for climbing, with low branches that welcomed a seven-year-old's adventures. The gray cat, who belonged to their neighbor Mrs. Henderson, was named Misty and loved to chase the ribbons Luna dangled from her bedroom window.

Mr. Buttons came along to Luna's first day at her new school, hidden safely in her backpack. During lunch, when she sat alone at a corner table, she whispered to him about the other kids and whether they might want to be friends.

Try talking to that girl with the curly hair, Mr. Buttons seemed to suggest. She dropped her apple and looked sad when no one helped her pick it up.

So Luna walked over to the girl—whose name turned out to be Sofia—and helped her gather the apple slices that had scattered across the floor. Sofia's grateful smile was the first real brightness in Luna's new school day.

"Thank you," Sofia said. "I'm still getting used to my new lunch box. The lid doesn't stay on very well."

"I'm still getting used to everything," Luna admitted. "We just moved here from across the state."

"Really? Me too! Well, not across the state, but from the next town over. Want to sit together?"

That afternoon, Luna hurried home to tell Mr. Buttons all about Sofia, about how she loved to draw horses just like Luna did, and how she knew all the words to the same songs Luna liked to sing.

See? Mr. Buttons seemed to say as Luna hugged him tight. I told you they'd love you.

Months passed, and slowly, the new house began to feel like home. Luna's artwork covered the refrigerator, her books filled the new bookshelf Daddy had built, and the oak tree outside her window became as familiar as an old friend. Mr. Buttons watched it all from his place of honor on Luna's pillow, his loose button eye finally secured with Mama's careful stitching.

One evening, as Luna was getting ready for bed, she found an old photo that had fallen behind her dresser during the move. It was a picture of her as a tiny three-year-old, fast asleep with a brand-new Mr. Buttons clutched in her arms.

"Look how little we both were," she said, showing the photo to the bear.

Mr. Buttons seemed to study the picture with his newly-secured button eyes. In the photo, his fur was still fluffy and bright brown, his ribbon still crisp and red. Now his fur was faded and thin, his ribbon frayed from years of love and adventures.

*We've grown up together,* Luna imagined him saying. *And we'll keep growing up together, no matter where we go.*

Luna carefully placed the photo on her nightstand and climbed into bed, pulling Mr. Buttons close. Outside her window, the oak tree's branches swayed gently in the evening breeze, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear Misty the cat meowing goodnight to the world.

As she drifted off to sleep, Luna thought about all the changes they'd weathered together—new teeth, new schools, new friends, new homes. Tomorrow would bring new adventures, maybe new challenges, but whatever came, she knew she wouldn't face it alone.

In the comfortable darkness of her new room, girl and bear dreamed together of all the tomorrows still waiting to unfold, each one a page in the story they were writing together, one day, one memory, one shared adventure at a time.