Paula and the Patchwork Rainbow Festival

One glittering evening, Paula stood in the old castle courtyard and watched rainbow colors dance across the towers.

The rainbow-colored unicorn smiled and gave her silver teacups one last polish with a soft cloth. Around her, the little festival was nearly ready. Lanterns waited on hooks by the walls. Ribbon baskets sat beside the fountain. Garden flowers filled jam jars along the table. From the garage came Feuersofa, the small green dragon, walking very carefully with a basket of paper decorations in both paws.

“I brought the garlands without squashing a single one,” he said proudly.

“You look very official,” Paula said.

Near the bench, Glupsch the frog had his nose almost touching a spool of string. Glupsch was short-sighted, but that meant he noticed tiny things better than anyone. “This blue ribbon has a little twist,” he said. “And this lantern hook is leaning left by a whisker.”

Paula straightened the hook. “Perfect. You always see what matters.”

Feuersofa set down his basket with a happy puff of breath. Just then, from the worktable, a stack of shiny metal trays slid together with a loud clatter.

“Brrf!” squeaked Feuersofa.

He jumped, and a tiny burst of fire popped from his mouth. It singed one paper garland and curled the edge of the big rainbow banner. Nobody was hurt, but the prettiest pieces now had little brown corners like overdone toast.

Feuersofa covered his snout. “Oh, crumbs. I only meant to carry things.”

Paula trotted over and checked the decorations at once. “The string is fine. Most of the paper is fine too. We just need a new plan.”

Glupsch had already begun looking closely. He peered under the bench. “Aha. Spare ribbons in a box.” He hopped to the shed door and pushed it open with both hands. “And colored chalk. A whole tin of it. Also”—he leaned nose-close to the singed banner—“these brown edges are not ugly at all. They are scallops.”

“Scallops?” said Feuersofa.

“Neat little curves,” said Glupsch. “If we make more, it will look planned.”

Paula’s horn glimmered. She rolled out a worktable, set down tape, string, scissors, and a pot of glue, and laid the banner flat. A soft rainbow shimmer brushed over the faded parts, brightening them like fresh paint after rain. Then she snipped the singed edge into tidy curves.

“Patchwork rainbow festival,” she said.

Feuersofa’s ears lifted. “That sounds much better than broken festival.”