Jack was six years old, and he had an orange stuffed fox named Rusty. They lived in a small apartment, next to a playground. On his bedroom ceiling, there were stars that glowed in the dark.
Every night before bed, Jack counted them with Rusty: one, two, three… One day, Mom and Dad sat down with him on the couch. “Jack, we're moving to a new house, with a yard,” Mom said.
“You'll have a bigger room,” Dad added with a smile. But Jack didn't smile. He looked toward his room and frowned. “What about my stars? Stars can't move.”
For the next few days, the apartment filled up with boxes. The books went in one box, the toys in another, and the clothes in another. Every time a shelf was left empty, Jack felt a little pinch in his chest.
One night, lying in bed, he stared up at the ceiling for a long time. The stars were glowing like always, soft and green. “Rusty, I've got an idea,” he whispered.
The next morning, he found an empty box and decorated it with crayons. He drew stars, a fox, and a big round moon. “This is the box for important things,” he announced.
Then he asked Dad to hold the chair steady so he could climb up. Very carefully, he peeled the stars off the ceiling, one by one. He tucked them into the box, with his favorite photo and his pirate book.
“See, Dad? Stars can move,” he said, very seriously. Dad laughed and kissed him on the forehead.
On moving day, Jack carried his box in his arms the whole way. The new house had a yellow front door and smelled like fresh paint. His room was big, white, and a little too quiet.
When Jack talked, his voice bounced off the empty walls.
But he opened his box and took the stars out carefully. “Dad, can I ride on your shoulders?” Dad lifted him up, and Jack stuck the stars on the new ceiling.
He put one in every corner, so the whole room was under his sky.
That night, Mom turned off the light from the doorway. The ceiling filled with little green dots, just like before. Jack hugged Rusty and started counting: one, two, three…
“Hello, new house,” he whispered. “You can be my home now.” And before he got to ten, he was fast asleep. Goodnight, Jack…
