Twilight painted the garden path in soft purple light. Milo's nose twitched. The grass hummed quietly.
The young girl stepped onto the path and brushed aside a leaf. There, pulsing with golden light, lay a tiny star.
She lifted the star gently. Milo trotted beside her, ears high. Fireflies drifted past like slow little lanterns.
She carried the star toward the tallest hill. The sky above was turning its first dark blue.
She held the star up to the sky. Milo jumped, but it stayed heavy in her hands. The humming faded.
She frowned and turned the star over. There must be some way to make it rise.
She spied the ancient oak. Milo scratched at the trunk and looked up. Up they went together.
She climbed into the branches and held the star as high as she could. It trembled — then shot upward!
From the garden path below, they watched. The star settled among the others, glowing bright and steady.
The cottage window glowed warm behind them. Milo rested his chin on her knee. The fireflies settled too.
Lumi smiled. The star was home.
Above them all, the little star glowed bright and steady in the sky it belonged to.