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Inside Sally's dimly lit bedroom at night, Sally sits up in bed near the window, her wide eyes fixed on the star-filled sky. Mother perches beside her on the quilt, smiling gently under soft moonlight spilling through the glass.
Sally gazed out her bedroom window at the twinkling night sky. Her long blonde hair fell across her pillow as she turned to her mother. "Mommy, who made all those beautiful stars?" she whispered. Her mother smiled warmly and sat beside her. "God painted each one, my dear," she said softly. "He hung them in the sky just for us." Sally's eyes grew wide with wonder. "Really? God made all of them?" "Yes, sweetheart. Every single shining star."
At the same bedroom window late at night, Mother points toward the moonlit garden below. Sally presses her nose to the cool glass, watching roses glow silvery among dark leaves beneath a bright full moon.
"What else did God make?" Sally asked, her curiosity growing. Her mother pointed to the garden below Sally's window. "See those flowers blooming in the moonlight? God painted those too." Sally pressed her nose against the cool glass. The roses glowed softly in the silvery light. "They're so pretty!" she exclaimed. "God must love colors very much." Her mother nodded. "He does, Sally. He made the whole world full of beautiful things for us to enjoy."
Early dawn light blushes through the bedroom window, tinting clouds orange and pink over the horizon. Mother gently tucks the blanket around Sally, who smiles sleepily while admiring the painted sky from her pillow.
"And when morning comes," her mother continued, "God paints the sky with oranges and pinks." Sally yawned sleepily but listened with bright eyes. "He sends the sun to warm the earth and help the flowers grow." "Does God paint every day?" Sally asked. "Every single day," her mother replied, tucking the blanket around her. "He never stops creating beauty for His children." Sally smiled at the thought. "God must be the best artist ever."
Night lingers in the quiet bedroom as Sally lies beneath the covers, small hands folded on her chest in prayer. Mother bends to kiss her forehead, starlight twinkling outside the window behind them.
Sally folded her small hands together on her chest. "Thank you, God, for painting the stars," she prayed softly. "Thank you for the flowers and the morning sun too." Her mother kissed her forehead gently. "That's a beautiful prayer, sweetheart." Sally's eyelids grew heavy as she gazed at the stars one last time. "Goodnight, God's stars," she whispered. Soon she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of all the beautiful things God had made. Outside, the stars twinkled on.