Leilani and the Whisper of Mana,
A sleep story by Kara Bloom.
Take a deep breath in,
And a slow breath out.
Let your body get cozy,
Let your eyes grow heavy,
And let your heart open to the magic of the islands.
This is the story of Leilani,
A young girl from the big island of Hawaii,
With dark wavy hair like the ocean at night,
And a heart full of curiosity.
Tonight,
She's traveling to Oahu to explore the North Shore,
And maybe,
Just maybe,
To discover something called mana.
In Hawaii,
People say mana lives in all things,
In the waves,
In the wind,
The trees,
And the stones.
Some say it's the sparkle in a waterfall,
Some say it's the hush in your heart when the world feels big and quiet.
Leilani didn't know what mana was yet,
But she hoped the island might help her understand.
On the plane,
Her little brother Koa asked for the window seat.
Do you think we'll see whales?
He asked.
Or maybe a volcano from the sky.
Leilani smiled and touched a small cloth pouch tied to her waist,
Her eke.
Inside were treasures,
A pressed flower from her birthday lei,
A tiny notebook,
And a scrap of paper with a question written in her own hand.
What is mana?
She looked out the window and saw a great black-winged bird flying beside the plane.
The Eva bird,
Her mom whispered.
Some say it's sent by Kiona,
The goddess who helps people find their way.
Leilani rested her hand on the pouch.
She was listening now.
They drove north to a town called Haleiwa.
The shops were painted in teal and sunshine,
Old surfboards leaned against the walls.
The whole place felt alive.
As they walked,
Leilani felt something gentle beneath her feet,
A quiet hum.
She wondered,
Could that be mana?
For a treat,
They stopped at Matsumoto Shave Ice.
Leilani chose strawberry and mango with a snow cap of sweet condensed milk and koa-picked rainbow,
Of course,
Strawberry,
Lemon,
And bright blue pineapple.
An old uncle nearby pointed to the sky.
The Eva,
He said.
It follows those with good mana.
Leilani looked up.
Do you think it knows I'm looking for it?
She whispered.
They sat on a wooden bench,
Cones melting in the sun,
Koa's tongue turned blue.
The Eva bird glided above them in slow,
Wide circles.
Later they reached Waimea Bay.
Koa ran ahead,
Excited.
But Leilani stood still.
Before her,
A black rock jutted from the ocean.
Waves crashed softly below,
Like the heartbeat of the sea.
That's the jumping rock,
Said Mom.
If you're feeling brave,
You can climb it.
Do you think the mana is up there?
Leilani asked.
Maybe if I jump,
I'll feel it.
You can always try,
Mom said.
Koa returned with a smile.
If you jump,
I'll jump,
Leilani nodded.
Then I guess I have to.
Together they climbed barefoot.
And at the top,
The wind sang around them like a quiet chant.
And just then,
The Eva bird passed again,
Its wings as wide as the sky.
Leilani closed her eyes and whispered a pule,
A prayer from the heart.
Then she took Koa's hand and they jumped.
The splash was cool and wild,
The water wrapped around her like a hug.
But still,
She wondered,
Was that mana?
That afternoon,
They walked through Waimea Valley,
Tall trees arched over the trail,
Blossoms fluttered in the breeze.
This valley is part of an ahupua'a,
Said Mom,
A land division that runs from the mountains to the sea.
It helps everyone live in balance.
Leilani stopped and listened.
That sounds like mana,
She said.
It is,
Said Mom.
It's about connection,
Responsibility,
And respect.
They passed a stone platform called a he'iao,
And Leilani bowed her head.
She didn't touch anything,
But something inside her felt still,
Like the stones were listening back.
The trail led to a waterfall.
Leilani dipped her toes in the pool,
And Koa tossed a pebble and giggled.
I think the water is singing,
He said.
Leilani closed her eyes,
Breathed in the misty air,
And smiled.
I think mana lives here,
She whispered.
As they walked back,
Something sparkled beneath the fern.
Leilani knelt and found a smooth stone,
Round and pale,
With a perfect swirl in its center.
The swirl glowed softly in the light.
Her pouch warmed against her side.
That might be a pohaku mana,
Mom said.
Some say the land gives them to those who are ready.
But are we allowed to keep it?
Leilani asked.
We're outside of the sacred place,
Mom said,
And you asked first.
That matters.
Leilani whispered,
Mahalo,
Thank you.
That night,
In a quiet cottage by the sea,
Koa was fast asleep.
His breathing slow and peaceful.
Leilani placed the stone in her pouch.
She held it close to her heart.
I thought mana would be loud,
She whispered,
Like the splash from the rock.
But maybe,
Maybe it's how the valley listens.
Maybe it's the stillness that answers back.
Maybe mana is how the land feels when you stop and say thank you,
Mahalo.
She looked out the window one last time.
The moon hung high,
And the eva bird glided silently across the sky.
Leilani smiled,
And her eyes grew heavy,
Because now,
She finally knew.
Mana isn't something you find.
It's something you feel when your heart is open and your spirit knows you belong to the land.
And the land belongs to you.
Good night,
Leilani.
Good night,
Koa.
Good night,
North Shore.
And good night to you.
Sweet dreams.
