The Goat That Wanted to Jump Over the Moon

Bianchina was a lively little goat, born on a hill scented with thyme and rosemary.

She jumped over stones, low walls, roots, empty crates. Every time she asked:

“Higher?”

One evening she saw the Moon above the hill. It was round, close, and bright.

“I will jump up there,” she said.

The old billy goat raised an eyebrow. “The Moon is farther away than it looks.”

“Then I will jump harder.”

Bianchina took a run-up. She jumped over a bush. Then a stone. Then a wall. She reached the edge of a high rock and looked down. For the first time her legs trembled.

“If I jump again, I might fall.”

The Moon spoke in a clear voice.

“You do not have to reach me with your legs.”

“But I want to arrive.”

“Then find a safe way.”

Bianchina climbed down from the rock. She was a little disappointed. Then she saw a puddle of rainwater. Inside it was the Moon, whole and trembling, very close.

The little goat made a small jump and landed beside the puddle.

“Have I arrived?”

“Enough for tonight,” said the Moon.

Bianchina laughed. She had not jumped into the sky, but she had found the Moon without hurting herself.

From that day she kept jumping, but she listened to her legs. If a stone was too high, she looked for a path. If the run-up was too long, she slowed down. If the desire was great, she brought it closer with intelligence.

She understood that a limit does not always say “you cannot.” Sometimes it says: “you can, but from another side, in another way, while staying whole.”