As Theodora stepped through the door, it took her a moment to gather herself. It was a bit like stepping out of the car after a long trip. The “old world,” if I may use such a term, was all Theodora had known for her ten years of life, and in stepping through the door the magical door that comfortable world, was suddenly stripped away from her. If it were I, let me tell you, it would have been too much and I promptly would have turned around, stepped back into comfort, and not thought another thing about it. But, thankfully, this story is about Theodora, and she either more brave or more adventurous than I—just as I am sure you are. Even though this new world was frightening and disorienting, the fear served to strengthen rather than weaken her resolve. Boldly, then, she took her first steps into the magical world.

Having said all this, you might be surprised to learn that once Theodora’s mind adjusted to the “newness,” she found herself atop a very ordinary (but very lovely) hill. It was night, but the moon shone brightly in a crisp, clear sky, and it poured out its light like pearls upon the forested valley below. Theodora shivered. There was very little wind, but the air was sharp and her breath steamed out before her. Realizing the cold for the first time, Theodora did something rather remarkable—she stepped back through the door and into her house. You might be surprised at this (I certainly was), but Theodora had read enough books to know that a magical adventure would require a few necessities. Running into her room, she grabbed a jacket and threw a few things she thought might be helpful into her backpack. Properly prepared, she ran back into the study, stepped once again through the magical door, which had luckily remained open and waited for Theodora's return.

Standing on the open plain once more, Theodora scanned the horizon in front of her. Taking a particularly bright point of light on the horizon as her guide, she marched into the night. There was not any particular reason for choosing that way to walk. But, as Theodora would later say, “When you step out into a magical, new world, you don't really think about where you're going—you just go!” And, not having any experience of such matters, myself, I would tend to believe her.

The grass was short and soft and the hill was not so steep as to make the going difficult. The chill air invigorated her so that very quickly the door to home had faded away into the distance, the light coming in from the den now only a pinprick on the top of the hill (for Theodora had certainly left the door open. As another author has remarked, it is very foolish, indeed, to close a magical door once you have stepped through).
Theodora walked nearly the entire night. The forest that was once far off in the distance slowly began to rise to meet her. The stars turned in the sky above her, and she marveled at them as she journeyed under their gaze. Of all the things in this world that reminded her that she was in a totally different place, the stars spoke to her the most. The familiar faces of Orion and the Bear her father had taught her to recognize were not there. Instead, strange but magical shapes ran and fought and danced in the sky. A snake with a bright red eye slithered high above. A spritely little woman flitted in a shallow dance along the horizon, sometimes hiding behind the shadow of the trees only to rise above in a dramatic pirouette. Of all the shapes in the stars Theodora saw that night, it was a single star that remained burned into her memory. He was not the brightest star, though bright he was. His beauty shone more in purity than in brightness. In looking at that star, Theodora felt like his light was somehow the cleanest. He seemed to shine higher up than all the other stars, yet at the same time, he was the closest to her—as if his light was reaching out to her so that she could, in turn, simply reach out to feel his presence.

This star never moved. It always shone just above the point of light on the horizon Theodora had set as her goal. When that light fell behind the trees and out of her view, it was her friend, the star, that Theodora took as her guide—and he never let her stray from her path all through the night.

Then, just as the air was beginning to breathe with the first hint of the rising sun, Theodora reached the edge of the forest. And there, standing before her, was another door. This one, however, was not so plain as the door that had led her from her father's study. This door was very old, fashioned from some ancient wood that no longer existed. While there were no carvings, the top of the door was ordained with a brilliant stone. It shown brilliantly, with the same kind of light as her star, except that the light of the stone shone only for itself, its light refusing to fall on anything around it. Once again Theodora was faced with a choice. Should she chance another magical door? Home already seemed far away, and she feared losing her way if she stepped into too many different worlds. Still, the light called to her deeply.