The Night Train to Dreamland Station

Every night at exactly eight o’clock, Faye would hear it—a soft choo-choo-choo coming from somewhere beyond her bedroom window.

“Did you hear that?” Faye would ask her teddy bear, Mr. Buttons, who always sat on her pillow wearing his tiny conductor’s hat.

But her parents never seemed to notice. They were too busy with tucking and kissing and saying “Sweet dreams” and “Sleep tight” and all the usual bedtime things that grown-ups say.

One particularly starry Tuesday evening, after Faye had brushed her teeth and put on her favorite pajamas—the ones with the purple moons and silver clouds—she heard the whistle again. Only this time, it was louder. Closer. And it sounded an awful lot like it was calling her name.

“Faaaaaye… Faaaaaye…”

She sat up in bed and looked at Mr. Buttons. “Did you hear that?”

Mr. Buttons, of course, said nothing. But his shiny button eyes seemed to twinkle with a secret.

Faye tiptoed to her window and pulled back the curtain. There, floating gently beside her house—right in the middle of the air where no train should ever be—was the most magnificent train she had ever seen.

It glowed with a soft, golden light, like someone had dipped it in honey and sprinkled it with fireflies. The engine car had a friendly face painted on its front, with cheerful eyes and a smile that stretched from wheel to wheel. Each train car behind it was a different pastel color: lavender, mint green, peachy pink, and the softest sky blue.

Standing on Faye’s windowsill was a small ticket—a real ticket!—that definitely hadn’t been there before. It read:

VALID FOR ONE JOURNEY THE NIGHT TRAIN TO DREAMLAND STATION BOARDING TIME: WHEN THE SANDMAN ARRIVES CONDUCTOR: MR. BUTTONS

Faye gasped and spun around. Mr. Buttons was no longer on her pillow. Instead, he was standing right beside her bed, only now he was as tall as her father, wearing a magnificent blue conductor’s uniform with shiny gold buttons running down the front.

“Good evening, Miss Faye,” he said in a warm, rumbly voice like hot chocolate sounds if hot chocolate could talk. “Are you ready for your journey?”

Faye clutched her ticket. “Where does the train go?”

“Why, to Dreamland Station, of course! Every child visits in their sleep, but most don’t remember the journey. Tonight, you get to ride the train awake—or at least, mostly awake.” Mr. Buttons winked one of his button eyes.

Faye looked back at her bed, then at the glowing train, then at Mr. Buttons. “Will I be back before morning?”

“Before your alarm clock even thinks about ringing,” Mr. Buttons promised.

That was all Faye needed to hear. She grabbed her ticket and climbed carefully onto her windowsill. Mr. Buttons helped her step aboard the train, and as soon as her feet touched the soft, cloud-like floor of the train car, the most wonderful thing happened.

The train car was filled with other children in their pajamas! Some were yawning, some were giggling, and all of them looked excited and sleepy at the same time—that special feeling you only get right before the best dreams begin.

“All aboard!” called Mr. Buttons, pulling a golden whistle from his pocket and giving it a gentle toot. “Next stop: The Yawning Meadow! Following stops include: Pillow Peak, The Snoring Forest, and finally, Dreamland Station!”

The train began to move with a gentle chugga-chugga-chugga, floating through the starry night sky like a boat sailing on an invisible river.

Faye pressed her face to the window. Below, she could see her neighborhood getting smaller and smaller. The streetlights looked like tiny birthday candles, and the houses looked like the little buildings in her dollhouse.

“First stop: The Yawning Meadow!” announced Mr. Buttons.

The train descended softly into a field filled with flowers that weren’t quite like any flowers Faye had ever seen. These flowers were yawning! Their petals opened and closed like sleepy mouths, and with each yawn, they released little sparkles of silver dust that drifted up into the train.

“That’s dream dust,” whispered a boy sitting near Faye. He was wearing dinosaur pajamas. “It helps us have good dreams.”

Faye breathed in deeply. The dream dust smelled like vanilla and lavender and her grandmother’s cozy hugs all mixed together. She felt herself beginning to yawn too.

“Yawning is contagious on this train!” laughed Mr. Buttons as he walked through the car, checking everyone’s tickets. “That means we’re right on schedule.”

The train climbed higher into the sky again, passing through clouds that felt like cool, gentle kisses on Faye’s cheeks through the open window.

“Second stop: Pillow Peak!” Mr. Buttons announced.

The train pulled up beside an enormous mountain made entirely of pillows. They were stacked hundreds of feet high—fluffy pillows, feather pillows, silk pillows, pillows with ruffles, and pillows shaped like stars. At the very top of Pillow Peak sat a wise old owl wearing reading glasses.

“Good evening, travelers!” hooted the owl. “I’m Professor Hoot, and I’m here to remind you: the comfier you are, the better you dream. Is everyone comfortable?”

All the children checked themselves. Faye wiggled her toes and stretched her arms. She was very comfortable indeed.

“Excellent!” said Professor Hoot. “Then you shall have excellent dreams tonight!” And with that, he tossed down armfuls of the softest, cloudiest pillows, which floated gently through the train windows. Each child caught one and hugged it close.

Faye’s pillow was perfectly cool on both sides and smelled like fresh air and moonlight.

The train continued its journey, and Faye noticed that all around her, children were getting sleepier and sleepier. Some were already dozing, their heads resting on their magical pillows, little smiles on their faces.

“Third stop: The Snoring Forest!” called Mr. Buttons, but his voice was gentler now, quieter, like a lullaby.

The train glided through a forest of unusual trees. These trees were sleeping! Their branches drooped peacefully, and their leaves rustled with the sound of gentle snoring. Some snored high and whistly, some snored low and rumbly, and together they made the most soothing symphony Faye had ever heard.

“The Snoring Forest teaches us that sleeping is natural,” Mr. Buttons explained softly, walking down the aisle and tucking blankets around the drowsy children. “Even trees sleep. Even flowers sleep. Even the moon takes naps behind the clouds.”

Faye yawned again, bigger this time. Her eyelids were starting to feel heavy, like soft curtains wanting to close.

“And now,” whispered Mr. Buttons, “our final destination: Dreamland Station.”

The train slowed as it approached the most beautiful station Faye had ever imagined. It was built from stardust and moonbeams, with platforms that glowed like mother-of-pearl. Gentle music played—the kind of music that doesn’t have words but somehow tells you everything will be all right.

Waiting on the platform were all sorts of wonderful dream characters: friendly dragons, talking rabbits, dancing bears, giggling unicorns, and kind wizards. Each one was holding a sign with a child’s name on it.

“These are your dream guides,” Mr. Buttons explained. “Each one will take you into your special dream tonight.”

Faye spotted a sign with her name on it. It was held by a magnificent butterfly with wings that shimmered in every color imaginable.

“That’s Luna,” said Mr. Buttons. “She’s been waiting for you.”

As the train doors opened, each child sleepily stumbled out to meet their dream guide. Faye walked toward Luna, her magical pillow still clutched in her arms.

“Hello, Faye,” said Luna in a voice like wind chimes. “Are you ready for a wonderful dream?”

Faye nodded, yawning. “What will I dream about?”

“Whatever your heart wishes,” Luna replied. “Perhaps you’ll fly over rainbow rivers. Perhaps you’ll discover a garden where wishes grow on trees. Perhaps you’ll have a tea party with friendly monsters. The best dreams are the ones you discover as you sleep.”

Mr. Buttons knelt down beside Faye. “Time to close your eyes now, dear friend. When you wake up, you’ll be back in your bed, but you’ll remember the journey.”

“Will I see you again?” Faye asked.

“Every night, if you listen for the whistle,” Mr. Buttons said with a warm smile. “The Night Train runs every evening for children who are ready for bed.”

Faye hugged Mr. Buttons, then took Luna’s outstretched wing. Together, they walked through a doorway made of soft, golden light.

As Faye stepped through, she felt herself floating, drifting, settling softly back into her own bed. Her eyes were closed now, but she could still hear the gentle choo-choo-choo of the train pulling away from Dreamland Station.

In her sleep, she smiled.

The next morning, when Faye woke up, she found Mr. Buttons back on her pillow, his conductor’s hat slightly crooked and looking quite pleased with himself. On her bedside table was a pressed flower from the Yawning Meadow and a tiny golden ticket stub.

Faye knew then that it had been real—all of it.

And every night after that, at exactly eight o’clock, she would listen carefully for the whistle. Sometimes she would hear it and take the journey again. Sometimes she would miss it and just dream the regular way. But she always knew the Night Train was out there, carrying sleepy children to magical places.

Because bedtime isn’t the end of the day, you see.

It’s the beginning of the most wonderful journey of all.

The End

Sweet dreams, and don’t forget to listen for the whistle…

• Tags:
• Bedtime Routines or Sleep-Themed Stories