Zsófi was sleeping at her grandmother’s house. Sleep would not come.
“I can’t get to sleep,” she said.
Her grandmother opened the window.
“Look at the sky,” she said. “Let’s count the stars.”
Zsófi counted. One. Two. Three.
“There are so many,” she said.
“So many,” said her grandmother. “But every one of them stays there until morning.”
Zsófi looked at the stars. One of them was brighter than the rest.
“That one is my star,” she said.
“Then think about it,” said her grandmother.
Zsófi closed her eyes. She thought about the star staying up there, and herself down here, warm.
Her grandmother tucked her in.
By the time she left the room, Zsófi was asleep.
And the window stayed open a little, so that the star could look in.
