The Monastery in the Clouds
High above the tallest mountains, where the clouds live, there is said to be a golden monastery. Firlefanz wants to go there so much!
Firlefanz woke up and looked out the window. Far away, over the tallest mountains, something was shimmering golden in the morning sun. "What is that?" he wondered. "There must be something wonderful up there!"
In the kitchen, Firlefanz ate a bowl of oatmeal with berries. While he was spooning, he thought about the golden glow. They said that high up in the mountains, where the clouds live, there stood an ancient monastery. Wise monks lived there, singing for the mountains every morning.
Firlefanz ran to Papalapapp. He was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking his morning coffee. "Papalapapp, do you know the golden monastery over the mountains?" Papalapapp set down his cup and nodded. "The Sky Monastery! Very far away, right at the top. The monks there sing so beautifully that you can even hear it here when the wind is still." He stood up. "I will come with you!"
Firlefanz packed everything: the warm coat, the sturdy boots, the walking stick, and the hat with the long feather. Papalapapp threw his backpack over his shoulder and packed bread, cheese, and a bottle of tea. "High mountains make you hungry," he said.
They set off on their journey. Over seven seas, seven deserts, seven rivers, seven forests, and seven mighty mountains. They climbed higher and higher. The air became cooler and quieter, the rocks grew larger. And above it all lay a deep, peaceful calm.
Then they saw it: High above, where the clouds kissed the mountain peaks, the Sky Monastery glowed golden in the evening sun. Colorful flags fluttered in the wind, and very softly, from far above, the mountains carried a deep, calm song down.
At the gate of the monastery, a little monk in an orange robe and a broad smile welcomed them. His name was Tenzin. "Welcome to the roof of the world," said Tenzin, bowing deeply. "We are happy to have every guest who finds the long way to us."
Tenzin led them through the monastery. Colorful prayer flags hung everywhere, softly ringing in the wind. Big bells swayed from the ceilings. "Every morning we sing," explained Tenzin, "so that the mountains know they are loved. Then they stand very still and let us live safely up here."
In the evening, everyone sat together in the big hall. The monks began to sing — a deep, calm sound that echoed through the stone walls and made the windows tremble softly. Firlefanz closed his eyes and listened. The singing wrapped around his shoulders like a warm blanket.
Tenzin poured them butter tea, warm and a little salty. Firlefanz took a cautious sip — and then another. Outside, the stars grew brighter and brighter. From up here, above all the clouds, they were so close you could almost touch them.
The next morning, Firlefanz and Papalapapp said goodbye to Tenzin and the monks. "Come back again," said Tenzin, pressing a small red prayer flag into each of their hands. "It will bring you peaceful dreams, wherever you are."
On the long way home, Firlefanz carried his prayer flag very carefully. The monks' song still echoed in his ears. When his legs grew too tired, Papalapapp lifted him onto his back. "Thank you, Papalapapp," murmured Firlefanz. And very softly, half asleep, he hummed the melody of the mountain monks — until he fell asleep, with a smile on his face and the red flag held tightly in his hand.