March’s Full Moon: The Quiet Wisdom Within Karly Bonfante’s ‘Under the Worm Moon’

The next full moon in our lunar calendar is the Worm Moon, set to shine brightly on March 3, 2026. Traditionally named for the stirring of the earth and the return of life in early spring, this moon carries a quiet, renewing energy. It lights up the evenings with a soft glow, inviting us to notice cycles of growth, change, and regeneration all around us.

Children’s stories often slip their wisdom in sideways, wrapping big truths in small, gentle images. Karly Bonfante’s Under the Worm Moon does exactly this, Using moonlight, quills, and quiet exploration to reflect on what it means to grow, to protect oneself, and to trust in change. Beneath its playful language, is an invitation to look at vulnerability not as a weakness, but as something that can exist alongside strength.

One of the most tender lessons in the story is the idea that softness and protection are not opposites. The little porcupine in the story is soft, fuzzy, and tiny - and covered in quills. The story keeps returning to this paradox: being gentle doesn’t mean being defenseless. His spikes aren’t a contradiction to his sweetness; they’re part of how he survives. For kids (and honestly adults too), that’s a powerful idea: it’s okay to be tender and still have boundaries.

There’s a recurring awareness that the fuzz won’t last forever. Faye the Fairy wants to snuggle “before quills turn to threats,” which mirrors how childhood innocence gives way to sharper edges - independence, caution, self-protection. The story does not frame this transition from being fuzzy and soft to being covered in spikes as a loss, but as a natural and necessary evolution. It suggests that developing boundaries, whether emotional or physical, is not a betrayal of gentleness, but an extension of self-care. We can be kind and still guarded, loving and still protected.

The theme of regeneration runs quietly but persistently through the narrative, echoing the Worm Moon itself. Losing quills, falling from trees, even worms splitting in half - none of this is tragic. Loss is normalized, even honoured. The message isn’t “don’t get hurt,” but “you can heal, and what grows back may be just as good - or better.” That’s a beautiful lesson about resilience and self-trust. This reflects a powerful truth for readers of any age. Life will take pieces from us, but that does not mean we are diminished. Instead, loss becomes a doorway to renewal. Each break carries the possibility of transformation, not just recovery.

Another subtle message lies in how the story handles identity. Even as bodies change through growth, injury, or regrowth, the self remains intact. The idea that losing your head does not change who you are speaks to a deep reassurance. Mistakes, upheavals, or radical changes do not erase our essence - transformation isn’t erasure. In fact, what grows back may carry new wisdom shaped by experience. 

The story honours solitude without framing it as loneliness. The little porcupine's world is small, centred on his mother and his own curiosity, and that is portrayed as enough. There is no pressure to belong to a crowd or to be constantly social. This quiet validation of shyness and independence gently reassures readers that connection does not have to be loud or numerous to be meaningful. It quietly validates kids (and adults) who don’t need crowds to feel whole. At the same time, the story reinforces that gentle beings are still allowed to take up space - the little porcupine smells, floats, eats, climbs, tumbles, and explores. He exists fully in the world without apology. The story subtly teaches that even those of us who are quiet natured and solitary are allowed to be noticeable, to defend ourselves, and to enjoy abundance.

Under the Worm Moon reminds us that life is not measured in single moments, but in seasons. Not everything needs to bloom right now. Endings aren’t final, setbacks aren’t failures, and today’s smallness doesn’t predict tomorrow’s brilliance. Growth takes time, and brilliance often comes later, after many small changes have quietly done their work. The story leaves us with a sense of patience, an understanding that becoming is an ongoing process, and that the future can still shine brighter than anything we have seen so far.

In the end, the deeper magic of the story lies in its trust. Trust in bodies to heal, in nature to renew itself, and in individuals to grow into who they are meant to be. It is a gentle reminder that even when we are small, spiky, or still figuring things out, we are already part of something whole. 

We’re delighted to share that Under the Worm Moon is just one shining part of the enchanting Full Moon Fairy collection by the incredibly talented Karly Bonfante, now available for our UK community here at Little Acorns to Mighty Oaks. We’ll be welcoming new titles every month, gradually unfolding the magic until the complete collection of 14 beautiful books is available. It’s a gentle, joy-filled journey we’re so excited to share, perfect for families who love stories filled with heart and imagination.

With moonlit love

Mama Oak🍃