Sunday’s daily moomin
There won’t be any entries until the evening because Yom Kippur starts at sundown so this moomin will have to hold you for two days. Again, this excerpt is from “The Invisible Child.”
“How on earth does one make her visible again,” Moominpapa said worridly. “Should we take her to a doctor?”
“I don’t think so,” said Moominmama. “I believe she wants to be invisible for a while. Too-ticky said she’s shy. Better leave the kid alone until something turns up.”
And so it was decided.
The eastern attic room happened to be unoccupied, so Moominmama made Ninny a bed there. The silver bell tinkled along after her upstairs and reminded Moominmama of the cat that once had lived with them. At the bedside she laid out the apple, the glass of juice and the three striped pieces of candy everybody in the house was given at bedtime.
Then she lighted a candle and said:
“Now have a good sleep, Ninny. Sleep as late as you can. There’ll be tea for you in the morning any time you want. And if you happen to get a funny feeling or if you want anything just come downstairs and tinkle [her bell--Dawn].”
Moominmama saw the quilt raise itself to form a very small mound. A dent appeared in the pillow. She went downstairs again to get her own room and started looking through her Granny’s old notes and Infallible Household Remedies. Evil Eye. Melancholy. Colds. No. There didn’t seem to be anything suitable. Yes, there was. Towards the end of the notebook she found a few lines written down at the time when Granny’s hand was already rather shaky. “If people start getting misty and difficult to see.” Good. Moominmama read the recipe, which was rather complicated, and started at once to mix the medicine for little Ninny.
