June’s Last Wish

June had three wishes and a whole night to use them. She began by making every star sparkle twice as brightly.

From the small balcony in Dreamland, she watched the stars brighten until the sky looked sprinkled with tiny lamps. June clapped. “That’s beautiful!” she said.

But the stars blinked in surprise. They had been getting ready for bedtime, and now they could barely see their usual places. The North Star leaned behind a bright star named Dot. Three little stars bumped together and hurried apart.

June’s second wish was ready before she had time to think. “I wish for a comet parade!”

Whoosh! A silver comet swept across the sky, followed by two smaller comets with curling tails. They looped around the moon and zipped between the stars. June giggled as the comets played tag.

Soon, though, the sky was busier than a kitchen at breakfast. A star tried to settle beside its sisters, but a comet’s tail whisked past. Another star scooted away from the moon. The stars had no room to line up in their familiar patterns.

June rested her hands on the balcony rail. Below her, Dreamland’s rooftops were quiet, and little windows had gone dark one by one. The sky was still bright, but it no longer looked ready for sleep.

“I wanted it to be lovely,” she whispered. “I wanted everyone to enjoy the night.”

The comet parade slowed, then swept around once more. June counted the stars she could see. Some were hiding behind the bright ones. Others kept changing places. She had one wish left, and she wanted it to help every star find its place.

June looked closely. A small star near the moon blinked once. Then another blinked. Farther away, two stars answered, one after the other.

The comets kept looping, but June stopped watching their trails. She watched the stars instead.

Blink. Blink-blink. Pause.

The pattern traveled across the sky, quiet and steady, like a message waiting for her to hear it. June leaned over the rail and listened with her eyes. The stars were not asking for more brightness. They were trying to tell her what they needed.

June stayed still on the balcony. She watched the stars’ pattern begin again.

Blink. Blink-blink. Pause.

The little star by the moon blinked once. Two sisters answered with two quick blinks. Then the faraway stars held still for a moment, as if leaving a space for June to understand.

“Are you asking me to make things quieter?” she asked.

One star blinked once. The next two blinked together.

June nodded. The stars wanted room to settle. The comet parade was lovely, but the sky had become a place for play when the stars were ready for rest.

She could use her last wish now. She looked up at the bright, crowded sky and thought carefully. A wish could make a whole sky change. It was worth choosing the words just right.

“I wish,” June said, “for a calm, dark-blue sky, with just enough light for every star to rest in its own place.”

For a moment, nothing moved. Then the brightness softened. The deep blue sky spread from the moon to the far edge of Dreamland, like a quiet blanket laid over a busy room. The stars became clear, but not dazzling. One by one, they found their familiar places.

The North Star settled near the tip of its old pattern. Dot moved beside her sisters. The little star by the moon blinked once, then held still.

The comets seemed to understand. Their tails curled close behind them as they slowed. The largest comet made one last graceful turn, not too near the stars, and began to drift away across the dark-blue distance. Its smaller companions followed, leaving the sky peaceful behind them.

June watched until the last comet was no bigger than a bright crumb. She felt glad she had listened before using her wish. The sky looked beautiful now, not because it held the most light, but because every star had room to shine in its own way.

The stars began their slow pattern again. One blink. Two blinks. A pause. This time it was not a request. It was a good-night song, passing gently from one side of the sky to the other.

June rested her chin on her hands and listened. The balcony was quiet. The night had found its place, and so had she.

June stayed on the balcony while the good-night song traveled across the stars.

One blink. Two blinks. A pause.

The pattern moved more slowly now. The stars did not need to hurry. They were home in their familiar places, and the dark-blue sky held them all without crowding them.

June found the North Star with her finger. Dot and her sisters made a small crooked line nearby. The little star beside the moon seemed especially pleased with its place. It blinked once, then rested.

“Good night,” June whispered.

The moon seemed to listen. Its pale light lay quietly over the rooftops, the garden paths, and the balcony rail beneath June’s hands. Far below, Dreamland’s windows stayed dark. No one called for a brighter sky or another parade. The night had enough light for finding a way home, and enough darkness for closing sleepy eyes.

June’s wishes were used up. She had made the stars shine brighter, sent comets racing, and finally helped the sky grow still. Now there was nothing more she needed to change.

She stepped back from the rail and looked up once more. The stars held their places. Their pattern had become so slow that it was almost a hush.

June went inside, where her slippers waited by the door. She left the balcony just as she had found it, except that the sky beyond it was calm and clear. The moon watched over the quiet roofs, and the stars kept their gentle order above them.

In her room, June settled into bed and let her eyes grow heavy. Through the window, she could see one small corner of the night sky. A last little star blinked once, as if to say good night.

June blinked back. Then she closed her eyes while the peaceful Dreamland sky kept watch, giving every star—and every dreaming child—just enough light to rest.