Frog sat on his rock.
It was nighttime and cold but he was wearing his blue scarf. Raccoon had stopped by earlier to tie it on for him. He always needed help to tie his scarf.
He didn’t see the man till he spoke.
“Hello, Frog,” the man said. “Lovely night. The stars are so bright.”
“Yes indeed,” Frog said.
The man wore a long black coat and a black cape. He sat on the ground next to Frog.
“I am Starman,” he said. “I give away stars.”
“Do you mean sky stars?” Frog asked.
“Oh yes. The ones up above you. Which one would you like?”
“But...” Frog gazed up at the sky. “How can you pull down a star and give it to me?”
“I cannot,” Starman said. “But I can give it to you and you can leave it up there.”
“I do not understand,” Frog said.
Starman looked around. “Is this your pond?”
“Yes.”
“But you leave it where it is, right?”
“Yes,” Frog said.
“Is this your rock that you are sitting on?”
“Yes.”
“But it has been here for years and years and years. Even before you were a tadpole.”
“That is true,” Frog said.
“So which star do you want?”
Frog gazed at the sky. “I like that bright one. May I have that?”
“Certainly,” Starman said.
Frog gazed for a long time at his star.
“It will always be there,” Starman said. “Even in daytime, when you cannot see it, it will be there.”
“Will you give my friends stars?” Frog asked.
“Yes.”
Frog gathered his friends. They were all there, except Rabbit who had six new babies and stayed home.
Each one picked a star. Possum picked one that had five small stars around it. “Those are my little possums,” she told Starman.
“Now I will choose a star for Rabbit.” She pointed up. “I will show it to her. She will love it. And see all the little stars around it? Those are for her babies.”
“Sailors use stars to steer their ships,” Starman said.
“They can use my star if they like,” little Jumping Mouse said.
“Good.”
“Do stars move?” Raccoon asked.
“They do. But they are so far away you cannot see them move.”
“How do you know so much?” Chameleon asked.
“Because I am Starman.”
“Why do you give away stars?”
“Because it makes me happy. And it makes you happy. And I think it makes the stars happy, too.”
They sat quietly in the dark.
Then little Jumping Mouse said, “We can sing you a song about stars, if you like.”
“I would like,” Starman said.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.”
They each sang to their own star, as if it were the only one in the sky. And Starman was right.
Frog was happy.
And he thought his star was happy, too.
