As Peter floated in the night sky, he saw how beautiful the sparkling city looked.

Not at all as big and scary as it had seemed just a few weeks ago from the airplane.

What a birthday this has been, thought Peter wistfully.

But how on earth...

Get home from here.

Just then, a little bird flew by.

What kind of bird are you?"

she asked Peter.

I'm a boy from Russia, but I live in Hollywood now with my grandfather.

Somewhere down there.

Where are your parents?

asked the bird.

Peter.

Well, let's see if we can get you home.

The bird guided Peter back to Grandfather's bungalow.

The sound of Peter's landing brought a very concerned gentleman to the door.

Quick, come inside.

They say the wolf could still be around here.

Aren't you going to tell me what happened?

But Peter went straight to his room.

without saying a word.

And for the first time since arriving in America, Peter opened the photo album he'd brought with him from Russia.

There were pictures of Peter as a baby.

and as a little boy fishing at a lake.

on the day with his father and uncles when they saw wolves in the forest.

there was one of his mother measuring his height on a past birthday.

Another one of him attending the theater with his parents.

And then there was one of Peter all alone.

His mom and dad gone.

He missed them very much.

After an exhausting day, Peter fell asleep.

Soon he was swept away in a beautiful dream of childhood.

of home, and of his parents, who he knew

must still be watching him from above.