The Sleepy Star

One quiet evening, Ava looked out her window. The sky was turning pink and purple and soft orange. It was almost bedtime.

Biscuit sat beside her. His golden fur was warm. His tail went thump, thump, thump on the floor.

“Look, Biscuit,” said Ava. “The stars are coming out!”

One by one, little lights blinked on in the sky. But Ava noticed something. One star was missing. There was a small, dark gap right in the middle of the sky.

“Biscuit,” she said, “where is that star?” Biscuit tilted his head. He did not know either.

Ava pressed her nose to the glass. She looked very hard. Then she saw it. Down low, near the treetops, there was a tiny, tired glow. It was dim and wobbly, like a flashlight with a sleepy battery.

“Oh no,” said Ava softly. “The star is tired. It needs help getting home.”

She did not want to go outside in the dark. The dark felt big and quiet and a little bit scary. But then she looked at Biscuit. He wagged his tail and looked at her with his warm brown eyes. “You will come with me,” she said. Biscuit went, “Woof!” That meant yes.

Ava put on her cozy slippers and opened the back door just a little. The night air smelled like grass and flowers. She stepped outside, and Biscuit pressed close to her leg. He was big and warm and fluffy. The dark did not feel so big with Biscuit right there.

Ava looked up at the little star. It flickered. Flicker, flicker, flicker. “Hello, little star,” she whispered. “Are you sleepy?” The star flickered again. That meant yes.

“I know how to help,” said Ava. She remembered what she did when she was sleepy. She took a slow, deep breath. In through her nose. Out through her mouth. Nice and slow. She did it again. In. Out.

And do you know what? The little star began to glow a little brighter. Ava smiled and took one more slow breath. In. Out.

The star glowed brighter still. Then it began to rise. Up, up, up it floated, slow and easy, like a soap bubble going toward the ceiling. The little star drifted all the way up into its spot in the sky, right between two bigger stars. Then it shone steady and bright and happy.

“You did it!” Ava whispered. “You found your way home.” The star twinkled at her. She was sure of it.

Ava looked around at the whole dark sky. It was full of stars now — hundreds and hundreds of them. They were not scary at all. They were like tiny night lights, just for her. “The dark has stars in it,” she said to Biscuit. Biscuit licked her hand.

Ava and Biscuit went back inside. She took off her cozy slippers and climbed into bed, and Biscuit curled up on the rug beside her. Ava looked out her window one last time. The little star was right where it belonged. Shining. Steady. Safe.

She took one slow breath. In. Out. Her eyes felt heavy. Her body felt warm. The room was soft and still. “Goodnight, little star,” she said. And the star twinkled back, just for Ava.

Goodnight, Avy. You were so brave tonight. Now it is time for you to rest too, just like the little star. Close your eyes. Take a slow breath. You are safe, and warm, and loved. Sweet dreams.