A story written for one particular child.

Maya tiptoed to the window, where the moon had left a silver path just for her to follow. She had built the Moon Castle out of blankets all afternoon, and now the sky seemed to be inviting her in.

"Come up," the moon whispered, so softly that only a sleepy child could hear. "I saved you a seat among the stars."

So Maya climbed, her blanket trailing behind her like a small cloud. The stairs were made of light, and they hummed a little under her feet, the way a cat hums when it is pleased.

At the top she found the smallest star, who had lost her glow and was feeling rather shy about it. Maya knew exactly what to do, because she had felt shy before too. She sat down beside her and told her about the Moon Castle, and about the dog next door, and about how the day had gone.

By the third story the little star was shining again — not brightly, just enough. "That's how it works," said the moon. "Someone stays with you until the light comes back."

Maya yawned. The silver path folded itself gently back into her bedroom, and the whole world went quiet and warm and safe. Goodnight, Maya. The stars will keep your seat.