The River of Lanterns

On the last night of the festival, everyone in Nethmi’s town set a paper lantern on the river and made a wish. Nethmi’s lantern was the smallest of all. She had folded it herself, and one corner was a little bit crooked. “It will sink,” said her cousin. But the little lantern bobbed, turned once, and floated away down the river. “Wait for me!” cried Nethmi. Achchi smiled and unrolled her old woven mat. “This mat belonged to my achchi,” she said. “Hold on tight.” The mat shivered, lifted, and rose into the warm night air.