"This particular night, like most nights of the winter season, was clear and crisp. The air was fresh and pure. There was a very special stillness. It seemed that heaven was bending low to whisper something good to those who were ready to listen. Then,
'Silently, one by one,
In the infinite meadows of heaven
Blossomed the lovely stars,
The forget-me-nots of the angels'."
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