No matter where we are — a hotel, an Airbnb, visiting family —
we end our day the same way:
With the Rainbow Tree.
It always starts the same:
“Keira and Ellie were so excited to go to the Rainbow Tree…”
And she already knows what that means.
They run — fast — through a bright forest, laughing, curls bouncing, shoes tapping on colorful stones.
They reach the tree with leaves in every color you can imagine.
Then it happens:
The lights begin to shimmer.
The tree opens.
And they jump in.
Every single night, they land somewhere magnificent.
Sometimes it’s on a soft field where the air smells like strawberries.
Sometimes it’s in a village with tiny mushroom houses.
Sometimes they’re greeted by the Mushroom People and the new neighbors — a whole world of characters who know them, who love them, who are delighted they’re back.
The Mushroom People always cheer.
They always say, “We’ve been waiting for you!”
And they always have another adventure planned.
No matter how chaotic the day was,
no matter how many wipes were used in airport bathrooms,
no matter how many big feelings we worked through—
this part is steady.
Predictable.
Safe.
Hers.
She doesn’t have to ask what happens next.
She already knows she belongs in the story.
Her breathing slows.
Her body settles.
Her hand finds mine.
The story holds her until sleep does.
We don’t always know where we’ll wake up when we travel.
But we always know where the day will end.
