Far up in the deep blue night, on a soft pillow of cloud, there lived a little star named Twinkle. Every other star had drifted off to sleep, but Twinkle lay wide awake.
“I cannot sleep,” she sighed, her light flickering. “The night is so big, and so quiet.”
The gentle Moon floated close, with his kind and sleepy face. “The quiet is nothing to fear, little one,” he said softly. “Listen. It is the sound of the whole world resting.”
So Twinkle listened. She heard the hush of the wind smoothing the treetops. She heard the sea breathing slowly on the shore. She heard a mother bird tucking her chicks beneath her wing.
“Now,” whispered the Moon, “breathe in slowly, like the sea. And breathe out, soft and low.” Twinkle breathed in… and out… and her light grew calm and warm.
Below her, a little child looked up through a window and smiled at the gentle star. And Twinkle understood that her soft light was a night-light for someone far away.
Feeling safe and needed and warm, Twinkle’s eyes grew heavy at last. She snuggled into her cloud, and drifted off to sleep beneath the watchful, loving Moon.
Good night, little one. Breathe soft and slow, and sleep beneath your own gentle stars.