In the heart of the peaceful starry sky, there lived a little star named Starry. Each night, when the velvet curtain of darkness rolled out, all the stars began to twinkle brightly, each one trying to outshine the others. All except for Starry. In fact, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t manage even a twinkle or a sparkle. He just stared silently at his companions, filled with sorrow and loneliness.
“Why can’t I shine like everyone else?” he often sighed as he gazed down at the world. “How can I ever hope to do anything great?”
“Don’t worry, Starry,” twinkled a kind little star who shone right beside him. “There will certainly come a time when you too will sparkle like the rest of us!”
But Starry shook his head gloomily. “Just wait until the end of the year, and then tell me if I still shine as before,” he lamented. The poor little fellow had no idea what a great surprise was in store for him.
As the long months went by, Starry grew used to his dullness, and the other stars forgot to comfort him, for they all thought he sparkled like the rest of them. But all were mistaken. The news of the glory of the stars had spread far and near, and people would often say as they gazed at the midnight sky, “Oh, look at the lovely stars! How they twinkle! How they shine!”
One night, as a little child was crying to go to sleep, a great white angel suddenly appeared, and bending over the child, he whispered sweetly, “There, there! I’ve come to sing you the prettiest lullaby that ever was sung. Close your little eyes and listen. But first I will carry your soul out of the window and place it in the sky amongst the stars.”
The little child smiled happily in its sleep. Then the angel lifted up the gentle little soul and let it glide from his hands through the window to its new home. And as he spread out his wings to fly back to the child, a single tear dropped from his eyelid, and fell close beside the little soul.
Now that tear was covered with a beautiful light, and twinkling and sparkling as it fell, it reached the earth and nestled in the little child’s bosom. And the four golden corners of the baby’s blanket became four little golden stars. Then the sweet gentle soul, whose name was Love, was seated on a shining star, and with a slight nod of its sweet head said, “My little tear shall be a star too, to guide our little friend as he sleeps tonight.”
When Love and the tear shone in their new home, instantly every other star began to wink and blink and twinkle all over again, like the celebrating banners and flags on the day of the King’s great feast, so that earth-worms far below might see and join in the merriment. When suddenly it happened, it is not known; but a little fairy passed just at that moment. “Dear me,” she cried. “That is the most beautiful little star I have ever seen! I must have it!” So she passed and cut off the little golden tear with a sharp little pair of scissors, and flinging it into her fairy bag, sailed off in her boat away into the skies.
When she had gone, all the other stars felt very dull indeed. “How strange,” they all cried, “that the stars do not shine as well tonight as usual.”
“I believe that little star with the tear has gone blind,” said one.
“Blind, indeed! What nonsense!” remarked another.
But Starry was silent. He had listened to all of them, and suggested timidly, “Perhaps the tear was the cause of the twinkling of all the stars?”
“The cause, indeed! What perfectly absurd ideas you have; thank you so very much,” replied the first star, scornfully.
And each of the other stars turned away and refused even to speak to Starry. He would have given anything to have shared in their confidence, and to have felt sure that he too was still shining in the eyes of those far away.
That very night the baby awoke crying most pitifully. “Is it you who have lost me a star?” he exclaimed later on, when he heard his mother tell how one night the stars had twinkled and winked all night long, just to please a sleeping little child.
“Do you wish to have it again?” asked the mother kindly.
“Do I wish to have it again?” echoed the child with delight. “Oh yes, yes!”
But just as his mother began to say the words of the magic rhyme to make it appear again, the black-eyed fairy came sailing along in her boat and saw through the window that the child was still looking tearfully up at the sky. Before you could count ten she had flown once more to the place where she had picked up the little tear, and without a moment’s loss of time hoisted her black eyes and ready wings and flitted back home again, carrying in her hand the precious little star just as it was, lest it should stir and wake and give themselves an early alarm before breakfast.
But the patient star only said gently, “Oh, little child, do not grieve for me! Your wish is so very good and kind, but it would be better for you to have me all your life ere I grow hot and seek to burn you.”
So Starry had hardly begun to twinkle in the eyes of the little child when he became warm and hot and radiant as a lamp burning brightly all day long—a lamp that would never go out or fade, and why? Because it had a heart of purity and innocence and goodness!