When the travelers returned to the Emerald City with the Witch’s broom, the streets shimmered brighter than ever. Bells rang, and green banners waved in the wind. Dorothy smiled, yet her heart longed for Kansas.

In the great hall, the Wizard greeted them warmly—though his eyes looked tired. “You have done what none could do,” he said. “The Witch is gone, and Oz is free.” “Now,” whispered Dorothy, “may I go home?”

When Toto tugged at a curtain, the secret was revealed—the Wizard was no magician but a man from Omaha, lost long ago in a hot-air balloon. “I never wished to deceive,” he said softly. “I only wanted to help.”

The Wizard called them one by one. “To the Scarecrow,” he said, “I grant this brain of bran and pins—so that you may think wisely.” “To the Tin Woodman, a silk heart filled with kind thoughts.” “To the Lion, a potion of courage already within you.”

When he spoke, the Scarecrow’s words flowed clear and clever. “I believe, sir, that wisdom is not in the straw, but in caring for others.” Oz smiled. “Then you already had your brain.”

The Tin Woodman pressed a hand to his chest and felt the ticking of the silk heart. “Now I shall never hurt a creature again,” he said, eyes shining with silver tears.

The Lion lifted his head and roared—a deep, steady roar that made even the chandeliers tremble. But there was kindness in it now. “Courage,” he said, “is loving despite fear.”

Oz worked day and night on a great balloon, round and golden. “It shall carry us across the desert,” he told Dorothy. “And perhaps back to Kansas.”

The citizens gathered at dawn. “Farewell!” cried Oz. “I’ll miss you all.” Dorothy held Toto close. The balloon began to rise—but Toto leapt from her arms, barking at a cat. Dorothy ran after him—and the balloon drifted away.

She watched until the balloon vanished into the blue. The city felt suddenly too quiet. “Now I shall never get home,” she whispered. But her friends stood beside her, steadfast and true.

Then the Winged Monkeys carried her to Glinda, the Good Witch of the South. Glinda’s smile was gentle as dawn. “You had the power all along, my dear,” she said. “The silver shoes can carry you wherever you wish.”

Dorothy hugged each of her friends tightly. “I’ll never forget you,” she said. “And we shall always remember you,” replied the Scarecrow. “Wherever you are, there is Oz.”

Dorothy kissed Glinda’s hand, closed her eyes, and whispered, “There’s no place like home.” The silver shoes began to sparkle and spin. Light surrounded her like a circle of stars, and the world turned softly round.

When the spinning stopped, she stood before the small gray house on the Kansas prairie. Aunt Em rushed out, tears in her eyes. “My darling child—where have you been?” “I’ve been to Oz,” said Dorothy, smiling. “And I’m so glad to be home.”

The prairie was still flat and gray, the wind still whispered through the wheat—but to Dorothy, everything shimmered with quiet magic. For once you’ve seen the Emerald City, even Kansas holds its own light.