nce there was a young Inca boy. He had no family except for an old llama. Each day the boy and his llama walked many miles, looking for a home. Each night they curled up together and slept. But one starry evening, the old llama died. The boy buried his friend next to an icy stream. Then he sat under a tree and cried. What would he do? He had no family and no home.
The boy cried for a very long time. But there was no one to comfort him. There were only the stars in the sky.
Suddenly, the sky filled with bright light. The boy held his breath. He was afraid to move. One bright star fell to the ground. Slowly, the star took the shape of the old llama. She bent her head and drank from the stream. She looked at the boy and smiled. As she jumped back into the sky, bits of llama wool fell.
As the Sun began to rise, the boy picked up the soft, warm wool. It glowed in his hands like starlight. He carried the wool to the city and sold it. With the money, he bought a house. He bought two young llamas. He never forgot the star llama. And he was never lonely again.