The Cat Who Pitched Moonbeams

Lily had the curliest, wildest hair in the whole third grade. It bounced around her face like a fluffy brown cloud, and she hated it. Every morning, she tried to smooth it down with barrettes and headbands, but it always sprang back up again.

One summer evening, Lily sat in her backyard crying. Her hair had escaped every single barrette during a terrible game of baseball at school. The ball had hit her curls and bounced off in a weird direction, and everyone had laughed.

"I wish I had straight hair," she whispered.

Suddenly, an orange cat with the fluffiest tail Lily had ever seen padded out from behind the garage. The cat had a baseball in its mouth!

The cat dropped the ball at Lily's feet and meowed. Then it picked up the ball again, tossed it into the air with its paw, and batted it toward Lily with surprising accuracy.

Lily giggled and caught the ball. "You want to play baseball?"

The cat purred and crouched like a catcher. Lily threw the ball back, but her curls bounced into her eyes, and she missed.

The cat meowed encouragingly and trotted over to the ball. As it moved, something magical happened—its orange fur began to sparkle like tiny stars. The baseball field around them seemed to glow with moonlight, even though the sun had barely set.

"You pitch this time!" Lily called.

The cat picked up the ball in its mouth and spat it toward Lily. The ball sailed through the air, leaving a trail of sparkles like a shooting star.

Lily's hair caught in the magical breeze, streaming behind her like a superhero cape. She didn't try to smooth it down this time. She ran and jumped and caught the ball, her curls flying wild and free.

They played until fireflies began to flicker around the edges of the yard. For the first time in her life, Lily's hair felt like magic, not mess.

The cat trotted over and purred loudly, rubbing its fluffy head against Lily's leg. Then it picked up the baseball one last time and bounded away into the gathering twilight.

Lily watched it go, her curls bouncing happily around her face. She couldn't wait for tomorrow, when she would wear her hair exactly as it was—wild, wonderful, and perfect for catching moonbeams.