As the autumn evening settled in, little Mei was tucked beneath her cozy quilt, her cream romper soft against her round cheeks. The lamp by the window glowed warm and gold against the cool, foggy night outside.

Papa hummed a quiet little song beside her crib, his voice soft as a feather. Outside, the half-moon peeked through the foggy window like a friendly face come to say goodnight.

Mei wriggled a little and stretched out her tiny hands, patting the soft sheet beside her. But her special glowing star-blanket, the one with the little stitched stars, was not there tonight.

A little flutter rose up inside Mei's chest, like a tiny butterfly that didn't know where to land. Her round cheeks crinkled, and a small worry bubbled gently up to her sleepy eyes.

Papa leaned in close, his eyes shining warm and kind in the lamplight. "A little worry, hmm?" he whispered. "Let's go and find your star-blanket together."

Papa lifted Mei into his arms, and together they tiptoed down the dim hallway. The shadows stretched long and quiet, and Mei rested her cheek against Papa's warm shoulder.

The playroom was dark and very still, with soft shapes that Mei could not quite see. Her little lip wobbled, and she pressed her face into Papa's warm shirt.

Then, from under the old rocking chair, a gentle glow began to blink. The little stitched stars of her blanket shone like fireflies in the dark, telling them softly that the night was not scary at all.

Papa scooped up the glowing blanket and wrapped it gently around her. Mei giggled a soft, sleepy giggle and patted the little stars with her happy, happy hands.

Back in her crib, snug beneath the starry blanket, Mei felt Papa's hand resting close. The fog hushed the world. The little stars glowed soft. Her eyes grew heavy. And with that, everything was just right, and all was quiet, and it was time to sleep.