It was a January evening, and through Lily's bedroom window came a lavender-colored sky. Outside there was no snow yet, but a light wind was blowing, making the dry leaves of the courtyard tree tremble. Mom Marti was sitting on the edge of the bed, tall and slim as always, and she held in her hands a big, very big book, with a dark blue cover and lots of tiny lights printed on it.

"This," Marti had said, "is the book of stars."

Lily, with her blue eyes wide open, slipped her finger onto a page. There were drawings of stars that, connected by a thin line, formed shapes: a spoon, a dog, a lion, a little man. Marti turned the page gently. Lily listened, and listened, and listened. But her heart was still full of stars when her eyelids became as heavy as two little pebbles.

She had fallen asleep hugging the book, with one cheek resting on the blue cover.

Outside, in silence, it had begun to snow. Tiny flakes, light as feathers, drifting down calmly, as if in no hurry to arrive.

Then, all of a sudden:

"CHUFFFF CHUFFFF!"

Lily snapped her eyes open. The book was still there, but the bedroom had filled with a golden light. In front of the wide-open window, even though no one had opened it, was Toby the Magic Train, with his white steam mingling with the snowflakes.

Toby puffed gently and said, in his golden voice:

"Chuffff chuffff, I'm here for you,
hop on board, my words are true.
The moon has a dream to share tonight,
and the dream sky wants to shine so bright."

Lily's eyes went wide. On the white grass of the garden Ziggy, Skye and Dash were already there, in their pajamas and slippers, waving for her to come down. Ziggy was hopping through the snow, Dash was laughing and trying to catch the flakes with his tongue, Skye was calm, with her red scarf wrapped tight around her neck.

"Come on, Lily!" shouted Ziggy. "Toby says he'll take us up there!"

Lily slipped on her slippers and ran. All four climbed aboard the magic train, which whistled once more and rose into the air, light as a balloon.

They flew above the snow-covered rooftops, and the chimneys looked like little white hats. Dash was leaning a bit too far out of the window and Skye pulled him back by his pajamas. Ziggy looked up and shouted: "Look over there!"

Above them, suspended in the air, was a huge hot air balloon. It had rainbow stripes all over, and on its soft fabric were sewn many tiny golden lights. When the balloon passed over a house where a child was sleeping, the little lights would turn on one by one, as if the balloon could feel his dreams.

"It's the Hot Air Balloon of Bright Dreams," whispered Skye. "Lily's book talks about it too."

Toby drew near calmly, and the basket of the balloon was right there, waiting for them. The children jumped in one at a time. The balloon rose, and rose, and rose, and the village became as small as a drawing made with crayons.

When the wind stopped, they found themselves in front of a place none of them had ever seen. It was a Cloud Garden. The clouds were soft as mattresses and glowed a little, as if they had moon dust inside them. In the middle of the garden was a round pond, shiny as a mirror. The full moon, big and round, was reflected right in the middle of the water, and the snow kept falling slowly, settling on the edges.

But the sky, above them, was strange.

The stars wouldn't stay still. They were moving. They went here and there, with no order, bumping into each other like chicks in a farmyard. It was a confused sky.

From a cloud came a tiny flutter of wings. And then a voice as sweet as a kind grandfather's.

"Good evening, my little travelers."

It was a dove. White, with soft feathers and one longer, glowing feather that she kept hidden under a wing. The dove flew in circles around the children, dancing lightly, as if she wanted to say hello to each one in turn.

"My name is Sweetheart," she said. "And tonight I need you. The constellations are in disarray."

The children looked at each other. Lily raised a hand and asked:

"What are... what did you say?"

Sweetheart smiled, pausing in mid-air.

"Constellations," she repeated calmly. "They are groups of stars that, seen from the earth, seem to draw shapes: a spoon, a lion, a bear. They always stay in the same place, like friends holding hands. And so children, looking at the sky, can recognize them. But tonight something went wrong."

Sweetheart tilted her head, and all four followed her gaze toward the silver pond.

"The shyest little star in the sky has fallen into the pond," said Sweetheart. "The others, worried, followed her. And now they're all jumbled together. Without them, the constellations no longer exist. We must bring them back to the sky. But they can only be picked up by diving underwater."

Lily stepped forward. Her blue eyes were serious, and inside her there was a small knot, but her hands didn't tremble.

"I'll dive," she said.

"Wonderful," whispered Skye.

"Be careful!" cried Dash.

Lily stood at the edge of the pond. The water was dark as the night, but at the bottom you could see little bright dots moving: the little stars trying to hide. Lily took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and dove in.

Splash.

But underwater she shut her eyes tight, and so she saw nothing. She came back up right away, all dripping, with her hair stuck to her face.

"I couldn't do it," she said, and shook the snow from her eyelashes.

Ziggy passed her a little piece of soft cloud to dry off with. Sweetheart smiled.

"Try again, little one. This time, open your eyes."

Lily nodded. She dove in again. She opened her eyes underwater, and kept them open even though they stung a little. And she saw her. The shyest little star, at the bottom of the pond. She was tiny, yellow as a lemon, and trembling a bit.

Lily reached out her hand to take her. But the little star, as soon as she saw that hand coming, darted quickly behind a silver stone.

Lily came back to the surface. This time she was disappointed, truly. She sat on the edge of the pond, with her knees wet, and lowered her head.

"Maybe I'm not good enough," she murmured.

Skye came over and put a hand on her shoulder. Dash and Ziggy stayed quiet, because every now and then, even among the liveliest children, there is need for a moment of silence to think.

And in that silence, Sweetheart came near, dancing in small circles, slow as a feather. She stopped next to Lily's ear. And whispered:

"A shy star doesn't want to be caught. She wants to be called by name."

Lily lifted her blue eyes.

"Called... by name?"

"Shy stars aren't afraid of your hand," said Sweetheart. "They're afraid of being taken by surprise. If you come close gently, and call them, they come on their own."

Lily thought about it. She stood up. She took another breath, but this time more calmly. She dove a third time into the silver pond, but without stirring the water too much.

Underwater, she saw the little star again, hidden behind the stone. This time she didn't reach out her hand. She opened her mouth just a little and, with the thread of voice you can make underwater, she whispered:

"Little star, come with me."

The little star stretched out a ray. Then another. And she came out from behind the stone. She drew close to Lily, slow as a snowflake in reverse, and settled right in the palm of her hand, warm and sweet.

Lily came up to the surface, holding her tight like a tiny secret.

"I got her!" she said.

But then she looked at Sweetheart. And she understood that she hadn't caught her: she had only invited her.

"Now the others," whispered Sweetheart, smiling.

Lily leaned over the water. And with her child's voice, one at a time, she called:

"Little star with the tail, come."
"Sparkling little star, come."
"Tiny little star, come."

And one after another, the stars came out from the bottom of the pond. They rose into the air like silver bubbles, light. They flew above the children's heads, returning to their place in the sky. And as they returned, Sweetheart closed her eyes and began to hum an old rhyme, ancient as the sky:

"Shine, shine, the first one up high,
then the second with a leap in the sky,
then the third one hops from branch to..."

She stopped.

"I don't remember the rest," she said, and blushed the way a dove can blush.

The children laughed gently. Ziggy took up the melody, Dash clapped his hands, Skye swayed her head. And the stars, one by one, found their place in the sky. The spoon, the dog, the lion, the little man: all the constellations were back in their places, orderly, still, safe.

Sweetheart gave a small bow, in flight.

"Thank you, my little friends. Tonight you've learned something that many grown-ups forget: that sometimes, to succeed, you don't need to push harder. You need to do it differently. And with gentleness."

The children climbed back onto the balloon, which brought them back to Toby. The snow was still falling softly. Toby blew his white steam and said:

"Chuffff chuffff, back home we go tonight,
the little star waits in skies of light.
Strength is not always the path you need,
sometimes a tiny whisper plants the seed."

The little train ran across the sky, came down over the rooftops, all the way to Lily's garden. Ziggy, Skye and Dash got off first, laughing. Lily went into her bedroom, slipped back into bed, and hugged the book of stars.

When she opened her eyes, it was morning. Marti was there, and she was smiling.

"Did you dream something nice, little one?"

Lily nodded. And, without saying a word, she pointed to the sky through the window, where the moon could still be seen, not quite gone yet. On the cover of the book, a tiny silver spark, that perhaps was just a ray of sunlight, glimmered for an instant, and then went out.