Pashmak went to his clothes closet. His favorite pink shirt was a little wrinkled. Instead of frowning and complaining, he happily twirled around and said: “These wrinkles aren’t bad at all! They’re like little waves in a strawberry-milk sea!”

It was breakfast time. Pashmak’s carrot juice wasn’t cool like always, but he didn’t complain at all. He put a small jasmine petal on his glass and cheerfully said: “Now I have a magical, nice-smelling potion that’s great for my health.”

Pashmak ran to the garden and saw his dear friend, Nabat, who was a basil-winged butterfly. Nabat said: “You look so much prettier today, Pashmak!” Pashmak laughed, took Nabat’s hands, and the two of them started dancing among the big, colorful flowers.

Suddenly, a few raindrops gently landed on Nabat’s delicate wings. Nabat felt a little upset and wanted to be sad, but Pashmak shouted: “Look, Nabat! The kind sky is sprinkling diamond powder on our heads! Come, let’s sing under the rain.”

So they wouldn’t get soaked, they took shelter under the umbrella of a big pink mushroom. Pashmak and Nabat listened to the patter-pat of the rain. Pashmak said: “Listen! It’s as if the earth is beating a drum for us so we can enjoy this music.”

When the rain stopped, a small puddle appeared in the middle of the path. Pashmak put his foot in the mud. Instead of complaining about his dirty feet, he stared into the water and said: “How interesting! I can see the reflection of the moon and stars in this little puddle.”

In a corner of the garden, Pashmak reached a small bud that still hadn’t opened. Instead of saying, “Why are you taking so long,” he bent down and softly hummed a sweet lullaby for the bud, to give it courage to bloom sooner.

Night arrived, and the twinkling stars appeared in the sky. Nabat sat on Pashmak’s shoulder. Together they looked at the moon, which shone in the dark sky like a piece of sweet, glowing cheese.

Pashmak stretched out on his warm, soft bed. He understood that when he doesn’t complain, the world becomes so full of magical colors and kindness. With a smile, he closed his eyes and calmly whispered: “What an extraordinary day it was.” Sweet dreams, little Pashmak!