When the moon rose high and the stars blinked across the sky, on a faraway mountain there was a big house.
That house belonged to Boro.
Boro was as tall as two trees stacked together. He had fluffy white hair, a wide smile, and the softest brown eyes in the world.
Every night, Boro prepared a large dark-blue cloth bag. Inside was stardust — golden and fine, collected from shooting stars that had fallen in the forest. Then he would set out walking.
Boro walked as softly as he could manage, though his steps were enormous. One step crossed a meadow. Two steps crossed a river. Three steps brought him to the first village.
He leaned down and looked through the window of the first house. Inside a bedroom, a small boy was sleeping — his blanket kicked off because he’d been tossing around.
Boro carefully extended one enormous finger through the window and gently pulled the blanket back into place. The boy stopped moving and lay still and comfortable.
Then Boro took a tiny pinch of stardust between his thumb and forefinger and sprinkled it through the window. The golden dust drifted slowly down onto the boy’s face.
Boro whispered very softly: “Sweet dreams, little one. Dream of a blue sky, soft clouds, and the fastest bird in the world.”
Boro moved on to the next house, and the next.
At the seventh house, a small girl was sleeping face-down in her pillow. It looked like she had been crying before she fell asleep.
Boro paused a long time, watching her with concern. Then he sprinkled more stardust than usual.
“Sweet dreams tonight. Dream of a field full of flowers and butterflies, and a best friend who gives the warmest hug.”
The girl shifted, turning her face out of the pillow. The corner of her mouth curved up, just slightly, even in her sleep.
One night, a girl named Mali was still awake. She lay staring at the ceiling, then out the window.
And she saw a pair of enormous soft brown eyes looking in.
Mali startled, but she wasn’t afraid. Those eyes were too gentle to be frightening.
“Hello,” said a huge voice, lowered to something close to a whisper. “Still awake?”
Mali nodded.
“Why can’t you sleep?”
“I’m worried about a test tomorrow,” she said.
Boro nodded slowly. “Have you done all you can to prepare?”
“Yes.”
“Then let it go. What’s done is done. Tonight belongs to rest.”
Mali thought about this. Then she nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Lie down,” Boro said. “I’ll sprinkle the stardust. Sweet dreams are guaranteed.”
Mali lay back and closed her eyes. She felt a gentle warmth drift down over her face, soft and golden.
“Sweet dreams, Mali. Dream of everything that makes you smile.”
Before she fully slipped into sleep, she heard those enormous footsteps moving away — slow and careful, heading somewhere farther down the road.
And that was the last sound she heard before the dreams carried her away.
