If I were a Star

I felt the tears I cried dry like sugar on a child's cheek. I cried because of a love story. Strange of me to turn to cliche chick flicks. Entirely, preposterously out of character for me.

The story was simple. Two people, slowly fell in love, only to realize their lives would be cut tragically, unfairly short. Like all people, they both had a dream. The boy's dream was to be remembered for his heroism; to be written about, and talked about, remembered. Her's was to be remembered too, but by just one person. Both realized as death was tightening its noose around their necks, that neither dream would be fulfilled. They realized that there aren't lucky stars, and that life is unfair.

And while lucky stars are non-existent, there are stars we can look upon, and their twinkling lights remind us of the Great Being that created them.

If I were a star, I might wonder what my purpose was. After all, no one sees me during the day, and most wouldn't see me at night, because the beings are consumed by the business of the world; by it's empty appeal. But if beings were to step out, and look up; as a star, I would look into their wondering faces, and proclaim my creator's goodness. My purpose, though brief, would imprint itself upon the tender souls of the beings. I would glory in who I was as a star, because my glory would be pointing others to His glory.