It is said that one evening, at the hour when the heat finally leaves the sand, a merchant arrived in a small town at the edge of the desert, carrying a silver jar. He stood in the square and announced, in a voice that was neither loud nor soft, "I sell moonlight." The richest citizens hurried forward and offered him purses of gold, one after another, each larger than the last, but every time he shook his head and said that gold was not the price.
At the back of the crowd stood a poor girl called Safiya. She had no gold, and nothing to sell. All she had was a lullaby that her mother used to sing to her at night. Shyly, almost to herself, she began to hum it, and as she hummed, the jar in the merchant's hands began to glow.
The merchant smiled. "Moonlight cannot be bought," he said. "It can only be shared." He put the jar in her hands and walked away into the dark, and nobody saw him leave. That night Safiya climbed onto the roof of her house and opened the jar. A soft, silvery light spread over the whole town, and one by one the neighbors came out and sat quietly on their roofs, while the children fell asleep.