I like to believe that there is a star for everyone. Your star appears on the day that you are born untill you breathe your last. The thought of all of us at least having one beautiful thing as soon as we are born amazes me. I have always been mesmerized by the sky. Especially the night sky, more so when there is a full moon.
On one of those beautiful nights last year, I happened to be at the house of the lady I was working for at the time. She’d just given me a house tour and mentioned that she didn’t like people in her personal space. I later noticed that she gave everyone a house tour. Even people she’d just met. It was a beautiful house.
As was custom of most of our conversations, she was talking to me about how important it is for women to be strong for themselves and how she had built her big beautiful house in 6 months. Intoxicated by the beauty of her house and her words I went into a trance and only woke up to find that I was staring intently at the sky without really seeing it. There were only two stars in the sky that night, one that burnt so brightly and a very dull one next to it. I thought of how stars burn their brightest when they are dying and it made me think of us. Her, a bright star whose shine was coming to an end and me a budding new star.
I too am a star, dull and not sure how to burn but a star nonetheless. Even in a sky full of stars I’d still have my place.
