Every night I wake when the world is asleep. Hush! They are all in their cozy beds, with white curtains around them put by mother’s good hand; for she makes them sweet and clean for the children every night. There a blink is peeping from the green branches in the lilac bush; it looks like a star that had fallen, and I think I can just see Rosie putting her sleepy little head out of the window.
I am there, all alone in the dark starry sky. Those little ones down there below cannot see me till I show a little corner of my round silver disk over the trees. Hush! there are all the little ones again whispering to their little sisters, who have not yet fallen asleep. Blink! Yes, I do believe that is what you call sweet Anne Marie, the girl that blows the trumpet every Monday, and sings old German verses of family history. She is worth her weight in silver; oh no! she is worth so very much more.
In the little kindergarten I watch with special care in one family. I will venture to tell my secret to those children. It is I who take care of the little lame Anton, who goes with so much pleasure to his school and raises his little star peeping out of the throng. In one of his black shoes there is a hole, but that does not matter, for mother takes all the holes from the shoes so carefully and tenderly, no matter where they are.
Yes, I will tell my secret to them. When they look towards the sky and see me shine brighter and clearer, it means I am listening to what they are saying, to what the teacher is telling them, and to what the children are reading about; and when they converse with each other, or speak to me, to me who, by day, sleep under the green lilac bushes, but who each night must come up here so very, very high; it is all meant for me, all, all for me!
Now I stretch up both my silver arms as far as I can. I point my forefinger to the bright sparkling North Star looking down so many thousand years, whilst the Father looks about to find the shepherds for His Son; and I say: Hush! These are little children’s whispers; it is in token that the children think of those that sleep down there in those white curtained beds. Mother has had special care of them, and little Anna Maria says that at the last trumpet every one is to be awakened and come out. I wonder where? where?
The small peeping blink over the lilac bush blinks four times, and there are four little ledges over the window. These children cannot sleep, because they are busy in playing something or other. And now Anton gets his schoolma! and the boy close to him gets a piece of sulphur he has in his pocket. Yes, he always keeps it carefully, for when he reaches the sulphur kiln, how the mass will dissolve!
When it gets a little calmer, and one can scarcely hear the voices in the kindergarten, I will tell them my secret, and exactly how far and high I am in the atmosphere, and how my bright light is caused; but keep a good brick wall between me and the teacher who goes with the measure.
Now we will betake ourselves back to the lilac bush, and I will enjoy the conversation I hear there; for it is only gentle bright talk about pleasant sunny days. That is where mother lives, always busy and active; and poor father lies helpless and ill, like the black hole in Anton’s footwear. If they only knew that it was I who stretched the leg and shut up the shoe-hole—I mean the sick father—in order to see father so comfortable and quiet lying in the sun all day. When I once make a tiny little hole in the shoe, and give it a great deal of remedy, I can remove all the discomfort and painful scratches that it causes. Do you not see how useful it is for me to be where I am, and to have a little secret to encourage me?
Farther and farther I shine, and here is what I have never seen before—a number of little clouds swimming about, some in his nightdress, and some dressed in clean fine linen. Yes, they are fine folk too; at least, I think so. It fetches in their small companions without slippers, and with very little black in the bootees; for they are not booted at all, and stretch out their arms just as I do when I call their attention to the great, staring star up in the North in the very little sky that hangs above.
Do you know who I am? Yes, exactly! I am glad we understand each other at once. Your acquaintance is made and I can be of use to you. Glad to be of use to you. The water down below was very salty, but we will nevertheless take some of it up into our airy muscles and descend; for I will take a long journey at a time, and on my journey I will drop a little salt pebble, so that the water down there, which I know will flow towards your footpath, may again taste somewhat more agreeable.
We will increase, will increase, and stretch our arms and legs up into the trees, so that we shall look more like a silver maple.
Hush! Do you hear how it whizzed. We first ricocheted on the roof of the house next to the kindergarten, where all the sleepy heads were lying imprisoned under damp linen. But we got loose, kept on whizzing, trembled a little and then—Oh! up there is the South. What, was that the one-legged peep there? Oh! I am no witch. I do not mean to harm the Christian! But it is good. I will shut his eye again, and drop some salt water into his ear. Thank the kind people who live in the close by the kindergarten for this peppery mixture.
We will fall about over his whole span—which is very uppermost, broader and wider than anyone else’s. Here in my little basket lie all the stars; they are the onions which the parent’s eyes must not see, but I hold my sleeves up and carry on my back the countless salt pebbles from the sea.
When it gets a little calmer, and one can scarcely hear the voices in the kindergarten, I will tell them my secret, and exactly how far and high I am in the atmosphere, and how my bright light is caused; but keep a good brick wall between me and the teacher who goes with the measure.