Milo raced across the quiet meadow beneath the starry sky. Plop! A bright star landed in the grass with a tiny puff.
Milo scooped up the little star. “Oh! You fell.” It gave one weak blink in his hands.
Milo rubbed the star with his sleeve and held it high. “Achoo!” Glitter dusted his nose, and he giggled.
The star still could not shine. Milo opened his lantern and whispered, “I will try again.”
The flame danced in the breeze. Then the lantern went dark, and the star made one sleepy spark.
Milo carried the star past tall grass. “Thank you,” he said to each quiet flower and stone.
“Thank you,” Milo said again. The star brightened with every kind word, until—pop!—it burst into golden light.
Milo followed the shining star along the path toward home. Golden light spilled across the meadow, showing every step.