The Sphinx Who Couldn't Smile

Lily's favorite spot in Grandma's garden was beneath the old stone sphinx. Half lion, half human, it had been there longer than anyone could remember, its wings tucked tight against its body and its face frozen in a frown.

"You're lonely too, aren't you?" Lily whispered to the sphinx one afternoon, pressing her palm against the rough stone.

In her pocket, her pet goldfish Fin swam in his portable bowl, bubbles rising to the surface.

"He understands," Fin seemed to say with a bubble that popped like a tiny laugh.

That night, when the moon painted everything silver, Lily crept back to the garden. She didn't believe in magic until she saw the sphinx's stone eye blink.

"I've been waiting for someone like you," the sphinx rumbled, its voice like ancient stones rubbing together. "I've forgotten how to smile. Centuries alone will do that to a creature."

Fin jumped from his bowl, but instead of flopping on the grass, he swam through the air like the garden was made of water, his orange scales glowing softly.

"I can help!" Fin chirped. "Where I come from, we have a saying: smiles are like bubbles — they float easier when you share them."

The sphinx's stone wings stretched for the first time in forever, sending sparkles into the night. "But who would be friends with something so ancient and grumpy?"

"Me!" said Lily. "And Fin. And tomorrow, I'll bring my friend Mateo, and he'll bring his guitar, and we'll have a party right here."

The sphinx's stone lips curved upward — first a crack, then a crease, then what looked almost like a smile. In that moment, the garden burst into bloom, flowers opening as if they'd been waiting for this exact moment.

"A friend," the sphinx whispered, "is someone who sees past the stone to find the heart within."

And from that night on, the sphinx never frowned again. Especially when Fin swam circles around its head, making rainbow bubbles that popped into tiny laughs.