In a cozy corner of her attic, Flora had a lab that wasn't filled with loud bangs and strange smells, but with the gentle hum of her star-projector and the scent of lavender from a bubbling beaker. Tonight was a special night. She was going to create a Glowdrop, a potion said to shine with the light of a happy thought. The recipe book, with its swirly gold letters, lay open on her workbench, its instructions looking like a tricky dance.

Flora carefully measured a thimbleful of moonbeam essence and a pinch of starlight sugar, her brow furrowed in concentration. She stirred the mixture seven times clockwise with a glass rod, just as the book said. She watched, her heart thumping a gentle rhythm of hope, waiting for the glow to appear. She imagined a light as bright and cheerful as a firefly.

But instead of a cheerful glow, the potion fizzled with a sad little sigh. It turned a murky, cloudy grey, like a sky just before a drizzle. Flora’s shoulders slumped just a little. She had followed the recipe perfectly, but the magic wasn't there. A tiny whisper of doubt, as quiet as a mouse's tiptoe, entered her mind.

She leaned her chin in her hands, looking at the gloomy beaker. Then, she remembered something her grandma always said while they were gardening. 'The best flowers,' Grandma had whispered, 'always have a little bit of sunshine and a little bit of you in them.' Flora smiled. Maybe the potion didn't need another pinch of starlight sugar, but a little pinch of Flora.

A new feeling bubbled up inside her, much brighter than the sad, grey potion. It was a feeling of quiet determination. She wouldn't give up. She pushed the big recipe book aside and looked at her own collection of ingredients: a jar of mermaid laughter (which was really just sparkling sea salt), a bottle of sunshine-yellow food coloring, and a tiny crystal that looked like a frozen piece of a rainbow.

First, she added a single drop of the sunshine-yellow. The grey liquid swirled into a prettier, buttery color, but it still didn't glow. Then, with a little giggle, she popped in the rainbow crystal. It sank to the bottom, sending up a few lazy, colorful bubbles. It was closer, but the special light was still missing. She wasn't frustrated; this was her kind of puzzle.