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by Eric Carle
Before Monica went to bed, she looked out of her window and saw the moon.
The moon looked so near. I wish I could play with the moon, thought Monica
... and reached for it.
But no matter how much she stretched, she could not touch the moon.
"Papa," said Monica toher father, "Please get the moon for me."
Papa got a verylong ladder.
He carried the very long ladder towards a very high mountain.
Then Papa put the very long ladder on top of the very high mountain.
Up and up and up he climbed. Finally, Papa got to the moon.
"My daughter Monica would like to play with you but you're much toobig" said Papa.
"Everynight I get a little smaller," said the moon.
When I am just the right size, you can take me with you."
And indeed, the moon gotsmaller.... and smaller.... and smaller.
When the moon was just theright size, Papa took it.
Down and down and down he climbed.
"Here," said Papa to Monica, "I have the moon foryou."
Monica jumped and danced with the moon.
Shehugged the moon and threw itinto the air.
But the moon keptgetting smaller and smaller and smaller.
And finally, it disappeared altogether.
Then, one night, Monica saw a thin sliver of the moon reappear.
Each night the moon grew, and grew, and grew.