That evening, outside Skye's window, a light drizzle was falling, going tap-tap on the glass, as if lots of little fingers were knocking to be let in. Then, all at once, the rain stopped. The sky cleared, the clouds opened like curtains, and behind them peeked a big round moon that filled the bedroom with silver light.

Skye, Ziggy, Lily and Dash were all there, in their pajamas, sitting on the rug. They weren't the least bit sleepy.

"Let's play dress-up!" said Lily, her blue eyes sparkling.

In one corner of the room stood the Trunk of a Thousand Costumes. It was an old wooden trunk, crammed full of colorful clothes: red capes, pointy hats, golden wings, skirts that looked like rainbows, lion masks, and crowns that glittered.

The four friends lifted the lid and, oh, what a wonder! The colors of the clothes were so bright they looked lit up like light bulbs.

"I'll be the king!" said Ziggy, grabbing a red cape.
"No, I'll be the king!" said Dash, pulling the cape the other way.
"I got it first!" Ziggy shot back.
"That's not true, I saw it first!"

The little voices began to rise. Lily jumped in too: "Then I'll be the king, so you both stop!"

And while they tugged the cape this way and that, something very strange happened.

The bedroom started to grow cold. A biting cold, like when you open the freezer and the icy air hits your nose. And from the window, instead of rain, snow began to come in: white flakes drifting down slow as feathers.

But the strangest thing was something else. With every tug, with every angry little voice, the colors of the clothes in the trunk grew fainter. The red cape turned pale pink. Then almost gray.

"Look," whispered Skye, who until then had stayed to one side. "The clothes are turning faded."

"Faded? What does that mean?" asked Dash, stopping suddenly.

"Faded means the color goes out," explained Skye in her calm little voice. "Like a drawing you leave in the sun too long: first the red turns pink, and then almost white."

It was just so. The whole trunk was losing its colors. And the more the children stayed angry, the colder it got.

Just then, from under the bed, came a familiar sound.

"CHOO CHOO!"

It was Toby the Magic Train! He popped out of the dark with his shiny train cars and stopped in the middle of the bedroom, which meanwhile, under the moonlight, had grown enormous, as big as a town square. The toys on the shelves yawned and stretched, waking up one after another.

Toby the Magic Train whistled and said:

"CHOO CHOO! Climb aboard, little ones, come ride with me,
tonight the moon shines silver just for you to see.
I'll carry you off to a secret, enchanted place,
where a trembling friend is waiting for a warm embrace."

The four children, a little surprised and a little curious, climbed onto the cars. The faded cape stayed on the floor, forgotten. The little train set off, racing between mountains of cushions as tall as hills and rivers of blue blankets.

"It's so cold!" said Ziggy, blowing on his hands.
"And look at all the snow," added Lily, as the flakes settled on her hair like little stars.

Dash shrugged and no one said anything more: they were still a tiny bit angry about the cape, and that sulky silence felt almost as cold as the snow.

Toby carried them to a far corner of the Midnight Bedroom, where there was a little toy kitchen. And there, behind an upturned cup, something was trembling.

It was a little pot.

A metal little pot with two handles that looked like ears and a slightly crooked lid that served as its hat. It trembled so hard that the lid rattled: clink, clink, clink.

"Who... who are you?" stammered the little pot, hiding its little face. "Have you come to scold me?"

Skye, who couldn't bear to see anyone frightened, came close gently. "No, little one. We're friends. What's your name?"

"I'm the Messy Little Pot," it answered, still trembling. "I can cook all by myself. But I always make a mess. And tonight I made the biggest mess of all."

"What mess?" asked Lily, coming closer too.

The Little Pot let out a long sigh. "I had seen your clothes turning faded. So I wanted to help you. I wanted to cook the Soup of Colors, the one that puts the color back into everything. But I was afraid of getting it wrong, my little legs were shaking, and I spilled everything! Now the soup has turned gray. And if someone comes, they'll surely send me away, because all I do is cause trouble."

And two little tears ran down its metal sides.

Skye felt a squeeze in her heart. She knelt beside the little pot and laid a hand on its warm lid.

"No one will send you away," she told it gently. "Making mistakes doesn't take away anyone's love. I make messes sometimes too. I spill the milk, I lose my crayons, I trip over my shoes. But my mom Kate and my dad Mike love me just the same."

The Little Pot lifted its little face just a bit. "Really?"

"Really," said Skye. "Now let's try to make the soup together. Not alone. That way, if one of us trembles, another holds him up."

They all gathered around the big pot where the Soup of Colors was bubbling, but it was gray like a foggy day. The Little Pot poured in a drop of red, one of yellow, one of blue. Lily, who never gave up, grabbed the ladle and stirred with all her might.

But the soup stayed gray.

"It's not working," whimpered the Little Pot. "I knew it, I'm a disaster."

"Wait," said Skye, looking around. Ziggy, Dash and Lily were still a little sulky about the quarrel from before. They each stood in a different corner, far apart, with their arms crossed. And right there, between them, it was freezing cold.

Then Skye understood.

"I understand why the soup stays gray," she said, her eyes shining. "It's not the ingredients' fault. It's the cold's fault. And the cold came when we quarreled. Colors are made of warmth! And warmth is born when we love each other, even after we've squabbled."

She turned to Ziggy and Dash. "I'm sorry I stayed quiet before. Come on, let's make up. It's too cold to stay angry."

Ziggy looked at Dash. Dash looked at Ziggy. And they both felt a little silly for quarreling over a cape.

"I'm sorry, Dash," said Ziggy.
"I'm sorry too, Ziggy," answered Dash. "We can take turns with the cape."

Lily smiled and joined them. "And I'll be the queen, so we're even!"

Then they did something simple. They all sat down close together, snug against one another, around the Little Pot. And since the snow made it cold, Skye took a big soft blanket and spread it over them all: her, Ziggy, Lily, Dash, and the Messy Little Pot too, right in the middle.

"This way we share the warmth," said Skye. "If we stay close, no one is cold."

Under the blanket it began to get warm. A lovely warmth, like when you hug in the morning still half asleep. Skye felt Ziggy's shoulder against hers, Lily's little hand clasped in hers, and Dash's calm breathing beside her. The Little Pot, there in the middle, stopped trembling. Its lid made no more noise, and a gentle warmth rose up from its handles all the way to its crooked hat.

And then the magic happened.

The Soup of Colors, warmed by all that warmth, began to bubble. Bloop, bloop! Out of the gray sprang a bright red. Then a sunny yellow. Then a sea-blue. The steam rose up colorful as a rainbow and spread all through the bedroom.

The children watched with their mouths open.

The steam flew all the way to the Trunk of a Thousand Costumes, in the farthest corner, and one after another the clothes came back to life. The cape got back its flaming red. The wings turned golden again. The skirts became rainbows once more. Nothing faded anymore: everything sparkled again.

"We did it!" cried the Little Pot, and for the first time it laughed, making its lid jingle with joy. "Thank you. Thank you for not sending me away."

Skye gave it a little kiss on its warm lid. Her eyes were a little teary, but it was a happy cry, the kind that makes you smile.

After a while, when everyone was warm and happy, the whistle sounded again.

"CHOO CHOO!"

It was Toby, ready to take them home. Before leaving, the train said:

"CHOO CHOO! Now home we go, our journey’s through:
when we all share our warmth, no friend feels cold and blue.
In families we squabble, but our hearts still glow bright,
and one big hug can heal every hurt tonight."

The children waved goodbye to the Little Pot, promising to come back and visit soon. Then they climbed onto the train, snug under the blanket, and fell asleep rocked by the swaying of the cars.

When dad Mike and mom Kate opened the bedroom door to say goodnight, they found the four children asleep on the rug, hugging under a blanket, with a smile on their lips. And all around them, in the trunk, all the clothes were glowing with beautiful colors.

"Look how peaceful," whispered Kate, laying a kiss on Skye's forehead.

"And what colors," said Mike with one of his jokes. "A rainbow came through here to have a snack!"

They turned off the light. But the bedroom, that night, stayed warm and colorful until morning.