In the velvety black sky of nighttime, I often gazed down upon the Earth. I watched the trees dance in the whispering wind, listened to the laughter of children playing beneath the moonlight, and felt the gentle hush of those who were about to fall asleep. My name is Twinkle, and I am a star. But there was once a time when I thought I was the least important among all my twinkling companions.
Every night, as darkness enveloped the world, I shone alongside my fellow stars. But despite my best efforts, I felt I lacked the light and brilliance that others possessed. The great stars—the North Star with its steady glow, and the bright Sirius that made the night sing—always seemed to outshine me. I often lay there, wishing upon myself, wishing to one day shine as brightly as they did.
“Oh, why am I so small?” I sighed. After all the stars knew my lament. “I wish I could shine more beautifully,” I cried.
“We all have our own light,” said one of my neighbors. “If you only had faith in yourself, you would shine brightly too.”
“What do you mean?” I wondered.
But she had no time to answer; she was called to do her duty by a far-off world that needed her brightness.
Each night I became more melancholy, and one evening the Moon happened to pass by. She stopped and asked me, “Little Star, why do you weep?”
“I am sad,” I replied. “I am such a little star, and I can see no hope of ever shining as brightly as my companions.”
“That’s a common lament,” she said. “Even I, despite my size, sometimes feel overshadowed. But you have your own light and purpose. Believe in yourself, little one.”
“But I am so little,” I repeated.
“Goodbye, little Star. You do not know your powers yet, but one day you will,” said the Moon and moved on.
I did not believe her. My hope of shining like larger stars was gone forever. That night I cried more than usual. I cried because I had lost faith in my own power.
The following night all the inhabitants of Heaven were in great excitement. The stars stopped their merry gossip, and the Sun rode up and down the sky in deep agitation. At last the crowding angels of Heaven brought forth a mighty being, and they all whispered in shock, “It is the King! The King of Heaven!”
With a soft light, the King came and sat down on the exquisite flowers of a planet, the finest of all the worlds.
“Oh, how happy I am, and how beautiful the earth looks tonight!” said the tiny inhabitant of that little world, which was the Earth. “All the stars are out shining for me. Look, little stars! How glitteringly the King shines!”
And so I did look, and it was indeed the King who shone so successfully. His blue eyes beamed lovingly over the deep sea and over the trees, which looked as if they had been set with diamonds. The poet below sang the praises of his great King; all men and beasts and birds rejoiced.
“And the little stars rejoiced too,” said the invisible flowers on the earth; “and the little stars in Heaven danced and shone ever so much more brightly.”
Then I remembered the words of the Moon. “He will come,” said the great King of Heaven, “and quotes those persons who have fought against evil, to whom the story of my life is known.”
“How much he knows!” said the stars, “and yet we know so far more than he does.”
Suddenly he turned to me and said, “And you, little star, will you not shine for my glorification?”
Then I felt invigorated and began to shine again and shine I did! I never had shone thus brilliantly before. I thought, how happy I am! Oh, if it only were to last forever!” And the great King of everything below concluded, “For all men and beasts below have rejoiced, and all the stars of Heaven have rejoiced.”
And I rejoiced too. I was comparatively a little star, but had I not the power to rejoice the King of Heaven himself? That is worth more than being a large star—yes, worth much more!