The Little Cloud That Forgot How to Rain - A Children's Story

The Little Cloud That Forgot How to Rain

By Bill Conley

High above the trees and hills, where the sky stretches wide like a cozy blanket, lived a little cloud named Cleo.

Cleo wasn’t the biggest cloud in the sky. She wasn’t loud like the storm clouds, and she didn’t make lightning or thunder. But Cleo had one very special gift: she could make the softest, gentlest rain.

When Cleo rained, something magical happened.

The flowers opened their petals wide to drink.
The frogs leapt with joy and sang their croaky songs.
Little kids danced in their rain boots, splashing in every puddle.
Even the sun peeked out sometimes to watch her quiet drizzle.

Cleo was proud. She knew she had a purpose.

But one morning, Cleo woke up feeling strange.

She puffed up her cheeks and tried to rain.
Nothing.

She spun in a circle.
Still nothing.

She even shook herself like a big dog after a bath—
Not one drop.

“Oh no,” Cleo whispered. “I’ve forgotten how to rain!”

She floated nervously through the sky and found Thunder—a huge, rumbling cloud with a booming voice.

“Thunder, help! I used to make rain, but now… I can’t,” Cleo said.

Thunder growled, “You’ve got to roar! That’s how you bring rain!”

So Cleo tried.
“Rrrrrowwwwwr!”
It sounded more like a kitten than thunder. No rain.

Next, Cleo drifted to Puffy, the fluffiest, most glamorous cloud around.

Puffy twirled in the sky and said, “Darling, forget rain. Just be puffy like me! Everyone loves a cloud with style.”

Cleo puffed up until she looked like a cotton candy puffball—but still, no rain.

She sighed and floated away quietly.
“Maybe I’m just not a rain cloud anymore,” she said.

She passed over the meadow below.
The flowers drooped.
The frog sat quietly on a dry lily pad.
The children looked up sadly. “Where did our rain go?” they wondered.

Cleo felt smaller than ever.

She floated near the edge of the sky, where the clouds were older, quieter, and wiser. There, she found Wise Cloud—a silver-tinted, slow-moving elder with kind eyes and a gentle hum.

“Excuse me,” Cleo said, barely louder than the breeze. “I used to make rain. It made everyone happy. But now… I can’t. I feel lost.”

Wise Cloud nodded slowly.

“Ah, little one. That happens sometimes. When we forget who we are, our gifts can hide from us.”

“But how do I remember?” Cleo asked.

“Have you tried being still?” Wise Cloud said.

“Still?” Cleo blinked.

“Sometimes, when we stop comparing and stop trying so hard to be like someone else… we start to remember who we really are. Be still. Listen to your heart. Let your purpose find you again.”

So Cleo floated quietly.

She didn’t puff. She didn’t roar. She didn’t try to impress anyone.

She just… listened.

She thought of the thirsty flowers, the dry frogs, and the sad little boots with no puddles. She remembered the joy her rain once brought. And as she thought, she felt something… warm inside.

A tiny pitter. Then a gentle patter.
A drip. A drop. Then…
Splish. Splash. Drizzle. Rain!

It was raining again!

Cleo smiled so wide, she sparkled.

Down below, the flowers stood tall.
The frog danced a happy jig.
The children laughed and splashed in fresh puddles.

Thunder rumbled a low cheer. Puffy spun with delight. Even Wise Cloud gave a soft clap of thunder that sounded like applause.

Cleo twirled with joy, sending soft sprinkles across the land.

“I didn’t need to roar like Thunder,” she said. “I didn’t need to puff like Puffy. I just needed to be me.”

And from that day on, whenever Cleo felt unsure, she’d pause, be still, and remember:
Her gift was gentle. Her rain was love.

And every time she rained, the world below came back to life.

Moral of the Story:

Be still, be kind, be true to you—
Your special gift will shine right through.
Don’t try to be what you are not—
Your gentle heart’s a perfect spot.

Author's Note: As a father and grandfather, I've always believed in the power of a simple story to teach deep truths. Cleo's journey reminds us all, young and old, that we each have something uniquely beautiful to offer. This story is a love letter to children learning who they are and to parents guiding them with patience and grace.

Spiritual Reflection for Parents Psalm 46:10 says, 'Be still, and know that I am God.' In a world that constantly tells our children to perform, compare, and compete, this story encourages them to simply be still and rediscover the quiet strength within. As parents and caregivers, our greatest task is to help children hear that gentle whisper of purpose planted in their hearts by God. Let Cleo's story be a reminder that our identity isn't in being like others but in being who God created us to be.