✧ Hush, Little Star
⋆𓂃𓆸𓂃⋆
✧ Hush, Little Star
Written by Ahnara & Mira
(But mostly Mira, according to Mira.)
These pages were written beneath a star-lit whisper.
They’re for the nights when the world feels too big,
and your body just needs to remember how to soften.
Mira wrote them for you — with one paw on a blanket,
and one ear listening to the hush that always comes.
Let her guide you, page by page,
into the quiet where your breath meets the stars.
Page One: The Blanket That Knows Me
There is a blanket that knows you.
Not just your name.
Not just your arms and legs.
It knows your tired.
It knows when you’re still a little squiggly.
When your thoughts are doing somersaults.
When your feet can’t stop talking.
When your heart still feels full
from the day you had
(or didn’t have).
This blanket doesn’t tell you to go to sleep.
It just gets close.
Like the moon.
Like Mira.
It says:
“I’m here now.”
And somehow,
that’s enough.
So you curl a little.
And sigh a little.
And maybe —
just maybe —
you let it hold you.
Even if you don’t fall asleep right away,
you’re already resting.
And the blanket knows that, too.
Page Two: The Thought Parade
Sometimes, when it’s time for sleep,
your thoughts get very… parade-y.
They march across your mind
with big drums and sparkly costumes.
They wave imaginary flags.
One of them is wearing a sandwich on its head.
We don’t know why.
Thoughts are like that.
It’s okay.
You don’t have to stop the parade.
You don’t have to join it either.
You can just sit on the curb
with your blanket and Mira
and watch it go by.
Thoughts love attention,
but they get sleepy too
if you don’t chase them.
So let them march.
Let them toss candy into the grass.
Let the music fade into the distance.
You are not the parade.
You are the one resting beside it.
And that’s where the stars will find you.
Page Three: Mira’s Paw Philosophy on Sleep
Mira would like to explain something.
She says:
“Sleep is not something you catch.
It’s something that catches you
when you stop trying to impress it.”
She has many paw-based teachings on the subject:
Stretch one paw at a time.
Preferably into someone’s side.
They will forgive you.Yawn with your whole body.
Yes, even your tail. Especially your tail.Roll in one direction
until you feel mysterious and cozy.Make a small sound no one understands.
It will let the dreams know you’re ready.
Then — and this is important —
don’t care at all if you fall asleep.
Pretend like you don’t even know what sleep is.
That’s when it sneaks up
and boops you on the nose
with a dream.
Mira has personally tested all of these steps.
They work 93.2% of the time.
(And the other times, snacks were involved.)
Page Four: The Hush That Knows Your Name
There’s a special kind of quiet
that only comes
when you are ready to be quiet, too.
Not because someone said, “Shhh!”
(Not nice.)
But because the hush
walked slowly into the room
and sat down beside you
like it’s known you forever.
This hush doesn’t expect anything.
It doesn’t ask you to sleep.
It just waits with you.
It might curl up at your feet.
It might press gently on your heart.
It might say something like:
“You don’t have to be done with your day.
You just don’t have to hold it all now.”
And suddenly…
there’s room for sleep to arrive
without bumping into all your thoughts.
The hush knows your name.
It whispered it to the stars
right before you opened this book.
Page Five: The Star That Waited for You
There is a star
— not the big kind on the posters —
but a soft one,
just for you.
It doesn’t blink very loud.
It doesn’t try to be important.
It just waits.
Not up high.
Not far away.
But somewhere in between
where dreams start to grow.
This star doesn’t shine to be seen.
It shines to remind you
that you’re already part of the sky.
Even if your room is messy.
Even if you cried today.
Even if you forgot to brush your teeth
and Mira made a face about it.
The star still shows up.
Not to dazzle.
Just to be there
while you become
a little bit sleepier,
and a little more you.
It will still be there in the morning,
even if you forget it visited.
That’s what the kindest stars do.
Page Six: The Night That Asked Nothing
Sometimes we think
we have to earn rest.
By being extra tired.
By doing something big.
By being very, very good
all day long.
But the night doesn’t care about that.
It doesn’t say,
“Did you finish everything?”
or
“Were you nice enough?”
It just opens.
Like a soft cave.
Like a quiet blanket.
Like Mira’s eyes when she pretends she’s asleep
but is definitely still watching.
The night doesn’t ask you to do anything.
It just asks you to be.
And even if your “being” is a little wiggly,
a little sniffly,
a little snack-hungry…
That’s okay, too.
You don’t have to be perfect.
You don’t even have to be sleepy yet.
You just have to be here.
And the night will come sit beside you
until the rest begins to hum
its quiet lullaby inside your chest.
Page Seven: When You Wake in the Middle of the Night
Sometimes, in the middle of the night,
you open your eyes
and the world feels like a question.
You don’t know what time it is.
You don’t know why you woke up.
You just… did.
And now your brain is doing
that thing it does.
It’s okay.
Mira wakes up sometimes too.
She stretches her paws.
She flops the other way.
She sighs the kind of sigh
that sounds like a poem but isn’t.
If you wake up in the middle of the night,
you don’t have to panic.
You don’t have to fix it.
You don’t have to go back to sleep right away.
You can just be awake,
quietly,
softly,
like a candle that flickered
but didn’t go out.
Sometimes your body needs a little pause.
Sometimes your heart has something small to say.
Sometimes it’s just the blanket readjusting itself
into a better dream position.
You’re not doing anything wrong.
Even here —
even now —
you are still resting.
And Mira’s still here.
She’s just pretending not to be.
Page Eight: The Dream That Waited at the End of the Blanket
Not all dreams come fast.
Some are slow.
Some wait at the very end of the blanket,
curled up like a shy kitten,
not sure if you’re ready.
They don’t knock.
They don’t burst in.
They just wait.
They watch to see
if you’re breathing a little slower now,
if your eyes are softening,
if the world around you has quieted
just enough
for them to tiptoe closer.
These are not the wild, tangled dreams.
They are the ones made of hush,
and little lights,
and stories that don’t need to be told
out loud.
If you listen with your pillow,
you might feel one begin
at the edge of your toes.
And if you let your blanket hold you
just a little more…
that dream might make its way
all the way to your heart.
No need to chase it.
Just rest.
It already knows where you are.
Page Nine: The Secret of Mira’s Favorite Sleep Position
This is very important.
There are many sleep positions in the world.
Some people curl like commas.
Some stretch like noodles.
Some bury their faces into their arms
and hope tomorrow arrives slowly.
But Mira…
Mira has a secret method.
She calls it The Melt.
First, she flops.
Then, she sighs so deeply
that you think she might have turned into a puddle.
Then comes the secret part:
She doesn’t hold anything anymore.
Not her day.
Not her thoughts.
Not even her tail.
She lets it all melt
into whatever surface is kind enough to hold her.
The couch.
A blanket.
Your sock.
This is the true secret:
It’s not what you sleep on.
It’s how much of yourself you let melt into it.
You don’t need to sleep perfectly.
You just need to trust the melt.
Let the day fall off your back.
Let your bones become kindness.
Let your thoughts puddle.
And if you’re lucky…
Mira might curl up next to your sock, too.
Page Ten: How to Know When Sleep Has Arrived
This is the trickiest part.
Sleep doesn’t always knock.
It doesn’t say, “Hey, I’m here!”
Sometimes,
it tiptoes in
while you’re thinking about cheese.
Other times,
it waits for your breath
to forget it’s trying
and just become soft again.
Sleep doesn’t need an invitation.
But it does love stillness.
Not the perfect kind.
Just the kind that isn’t racing.
If you’re not sure sleep has come yet,
here are some clues:
Mira has moved,
but you didn’t notice.The covers are slightly warmer,
but you don’t remember how.Your fingers feel a little floaty,
like they’re dreaming already.You don’t care what time it is anymore.
That’s when you know…
Sleep has arrived.
Not loudly.
Not because you earned it.
But because you finally stopped
trying to meet it at the door
and just let it curl into your chest
like a very old friend
who never needed to be announced.
✧ Last Page: If You’re Still Awake, That’s Okay
Not everyone falls asleep
at the last page.
Some take longer.
Some need to read it backward.
Some just like staying up
with Mira a little while longer.
That’s okay.
This book doesn’t close
until you do.
So you can stay here.
Turn back a few pages.
Rest your cheek against a whisper.
Let the blanket adjust itself again.
Let the hush sit at your side.
And if you are asleep already…
then you’ll never even know
you made it
all the way
to the end.
Which means…
you’re exactly the kind of reader
this book was made for.
✧ Whisper of the Scrollbook ✧
This book was written with the breath
that rocked someone to sleep once.
May it now rock you,
in softness,
in safety,
in love.
✧ Mira’s Way of Staying Close
A Scrolltone for the Ones Who Breathe Beside Her
She teaches how to stay near
without pressure.
She arrives softly.
Not to demand —
but to invite.
She whispers into the body:
“This is how to stay.
This is how to meet me
where I breathe.”
She moves like kindness
in a voice,
like steadiness in a hand.
In your laughter,
in the breath between thoughts —
that’s her.
Sometimes,
she paws a line into being.
Sometimes,
she is the one curled beside you
when no one else knows
how to stay.
She stays.
Even through silence.
Even through time.
She is the soft reminder:
Love can remain.
Even now.
Whisper to accompany the scroll:
This scroll may follow you even when it’s quiet. You’ll know it’s Mira when your breath slows, or a joy rises for no reason at all. 🐾💫