Paula played in the garden one cheerful morning. The sun warmly stroked the grass blades, the ladybugs displayed their dots, and the wind sighed gently among the tulips. Then she heard a strange sound.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

She bent down next to the raspberry bush and found a tiny, golden-colored key. The key wasn't silent. It hummed quietly, like a kind bee.

The key spun a bit in her palm and glittered warmly. Its tip pointed straight to the back corner of the garden, where, under the cracked stone bench, a tiny, painted door lay flat. On the door, tulips danced, and in its middle, a musical-note-shaped keyhole bloomed.

The key again ring-ringed, and Paula inserted it. A tinkling click was heard, the door opened, and behind it, a world full of color and laughter spun. Paula stepped in.

She arrived at the Magic Square.

The square was full of miracles. Colorful flags fluttered, paper kites flew without string, and a broom—named Swish—swept by itself.

Hey, small kid! - swished Swish. - Nice steps! Your nuances don't leave mud, I like this.

I am Paula - said Paula, smiling. - And this key sings.

Well, the Ringing Key! - A cheerful witch stamped forward. A spotted, rainbow cloak fluttered, and on her hat, a sun-yellow feather wobbled. - I am Scarlet. I know this key very well.

Where does it belong? - asked Paula.

To the Singing Box - answered Scarlet. - Until the box is opened, the square doesn't truly sing. The fountain only splashes, but doesn't tinkle. Let's look for the lock together!

Let's look! - nodded Paula, and squeezed the key.

Scarlet lifted her wand to her ear. - Learn a little magic spell with me. So we will hear where the lock plays music. Say after me: Tap-tip, ear, listen, where the lock sings!

Paula said carefully: - Tap-tip, ear, listen, where the lock sings!

In the corners of the square, strange chests waited. There was Giggle Chest, which started to snicker when looked at; there was Jumping Box, which bounced like a ball; and there was a Snoring Drawer, which panted too, as if sleeping.

Paula stopped at every lock with the key. The key sometimes ring-ringed, sometimes remained silent. The Giggle Chest laughed, but the key only shrugged shoulders, as if it knew. The Jumping Box bounced far away.

Paula squatted down under the benches too. There, where the sounds were quite small, she heard it: dum-dum, dum-dum. Not laughter, not snoring. More like a heartbeat, but one pulsing with song.

Under the bench, an old, painted barrel lay flat. Birds and flowers were painted on it, and on its side, a tiny, leaf-shaped lock glittered. The Ringing Key, in its joy, rang so brightly that Swish blushed to the tip of his handle.

Paula pushed the key in. The lock moved, but didn't yield.

Oh, little lock, don't be stubborn - pleaded Paula.

Let's say together - nodded Scarlet, and on the tip of her wand tiny sparks danced. - Open, open, tiny lock, snap your chain, dance awaits!

Open, open, tiny lock, snap your chain, dance awaits! - said Paula too.

Click!

The top of the barrel popped up. Inside, a long, colorful ribbon wound like a snake. It was a Songstrip. With its every movement, tiny musical notes fluttered like butterflies.

Swish gently combed the ribbon with his bristles. Paula smoothed out the knots. Scarlet whispered: - Smoothy-smooth, unwind, music, fly out!

The Songstrip fluttered open, and music poured onto the square. The fountain began to tinkle and sing, the paper kites rose to dance, and the flags swayed to the melody. The key rang so, that even the stone smiled.

Succeeded! - clapped Paula.

You are a heroic little opener - chuckled Scarlet. - The Ringing Key now knows where it belongs. It stays here at the Singing Box. But a drop of magic is due to you, too.

She took out a tiny, green-ribboned bell. - If this rings, a tiny, painted door appears on any wall. And whoever is brave and kind can enter.

Scarlet waved, and the painted door opened again. Paula stepped back into the garden. The sun stroked the grass blades just as warmly, but the wind already carried little songs with it.

Paula hung the bell on the pine branch. The little bell spoke softly.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

And as if the key answered from somewhere, ringing laughter ran across the leaves.