Current mood:	happy
Current music:	Day is Done - Brad Mehldau Trio

Turn On the Stars*
Not that I want to be accused of plagiarism, but here it is in its entirety, the short story I sent as my Christmas/New Year message for 2007. I sent a condensed version, including only passages that I thought would contribute to the point I was driving at.

In my search for some meaningful rhyme, I found not poetry but prose from an old, unlikely source. After poring over anthologies, some children's books, it hit me to look through an old fourth-grade textbook, Silver Secrets (from Anvil's 'Our World of Reading' series). Yes, unbelievably, I still have a copy on hand. And as geeky as I may sound, I really liked reading the stories in this book, even outside of class. .

From Ma. Elena Paterno, the editor of the said textbook, here is "Whose Star?" for anyone who cares to read the full text. As this isn't for commercial purposes, I'd like to think I'm doing the work good service by exposing it to you people who have long been out of fourth grade. Excuses, excuses. :)

"Whose Star"**
by Ma. Elena Paterno

He woke up because he felt a wind. The boy looked around him and wondered at the silence. It was the hour of siesta, and no one else was awake, even if it was a sunny, cool afternoon, even if the morning rain had left wetness on the grass, and the sky clear.

The ground was still muddy but the boy did not notice. He breathed in the smell of rain in the air. The space was open, the grass green. The boy ran, flew, his face thrust against the wind. "I shall run fast as I can, and you will push against me, but still I shall run." And he laughed and the wind laughed with him.

When he tired of running and the wind tired of blowing, the boy sat down. He climbed the guava tree to watch the dusk fall on the earth. The crickets began to chirp, softly at first, then louder, until the air was filled with their sound. He watched the lamps go on in the houses, and the light seemed to bring them nearer. He knew his mother would be calling for him. It was time to go home.

He jumped down and set off. He did not run for there was no more wind to laugh against him. Suddenly a light etched a white arc in the sky. It ended in a flicker in the grass underneath a tree. The boy went near to look and it was beautiful. A white light, warm but not hot, bright but not blinding. A star. He knew at once that it was a star.

He held it in his hands. It could be his star! He wanted to keep it for himself, keep it to glow for him. His own star!

The chirping grew louder, until he heard nothing else and the sound pressed against him. No it is wrong. Wrong to keep a star away from its place in the sky, selfish to keep its glow from other people.

But it is mine! Finders keepers. The boy looked into the white center of the star. How bright it was, and how warm. He thought of other children, watching out for the first star of the night to wish upon (But surely one little star...).

He whispered to it as he held it in his cupped hands. He wrapped it in a handkerchief and held it up, a lantern. It was a lost star, and it belonged to the sky. So he swung his star lantern with big circles of the arm. And then he let go.

Another arc, bright white against dark, a handkerchief falling to earth. The star, his star, rose, rose and joined the moon in its vigil over the night.

The boy reached home in time for supper. He saw his grandmother holding her rosary beads in the front porch, took her hand and touched it to his forehead. "Look," she said, "only one star tonight.

"Yes," he said, "only one star. But one star is enough to build wishes on, enough to keep the moon from being lonely tonight."

She searched her grandson's face, then smiled and said, "Yes, it is enough, one star."


It is a beautiful thought, that a solitary thing, a single act can make all the difference. And I have been blessed that 2007 brought not just one or two things but so many stars, so many somethings and someones to truly light up my life.

And if I may keep with this year's running theme of making wishes and following dreams, it'll be all good, for as long as I continue to hitch my cart on even just one star.