When Given a Star

Her breath transformed into a transparent mist as she released a long sigh. She shivered but was somehow unaware of the cold. Her mind was elsewhere. Her gaze was fixed on a star. It seemed to be no particular star; it was not a pivotal element in some grand constellation. It was just a star. It was her star. She looked at the star and she smiled. Her eyes widened a bit and retained a watery appeal. Then she broke her gaze, and reentered reality. But her smile remained in tact.

Luisa remembered one thing about her Dad.

It had been her birthday. She was four. Luisa’s family had not had very much money, so Luisa didn’t get a party. She was afforded just one present. The present was a new blouse to wear on special occasions. It was hardly a gift she wanted. She had moaned, voicing her disappointment, but this act only angered her mother. So, Luisa had been confined to her room. Then, just moments after her mother had left, Luisa’s father came in.

He made a motion with his finger over his lips, warning Luisa to be quiet. She obeyed. Silently he brought Luisa through the house and out the back door. They got into their little blue car and began to drive. Luisa had not understood what was happening. Where could they be going? Finally the car stopped. They were at a near by beach. Luisa looked to her Dad and saw that he was smiling. “Happy Birthday, Hunny.”

They spent the afternoon swimming in the clouded blue waves. After they grew tired, Luisa’s father had pulled a cooler out of the trunk of their car. In it were two peanut butter sandwiches (No jelly of course, Luisa hated jelly), two bags of barbeque potato chips, and two orange sodas. It had been the best dinner there ever could have been. After the meal, Luisa fell asleep upon the sand. Her father had sat up keeping watch. It was not until the white foam of the tide had come that Luisa woke up. It was dark then and time to go home. but Luisa had not wanted to leave. She looked to her father for support. Again he gave his loving smile. “One more surprise left.”

Again he went to the car and again he retrieved something from the trunk. she could not make it out at first, it had been far too dark. But then it came into focus, revealed by the light of the stars. It was a doll. It was a beautiful little doll. Her name was Clare. Luisa had a knack for knowing doll’s names. Yes, she was definately a Clare. She laughed and cried at the same time; Luisa being happy beyond logical emotion. Then she just smiled and layed back down.

Her father took notice of her serene expression. “Luisa, you see that star?” Luisa looked at him inquisitively. “That one?” He kept his gaze to the sky, concentrating hard. “No, no, no. Not the big one, that little baby one, to the right.” Her eyes widened with wonder as she fixed her gaze on the tiny star. “That star is yours Luisa. It always will be. And no matter what happens, no matter what changes, that star will always be there. And so will I.” Luisa looked at her father and loved him then, about as much as anyone can love anyone else. She never forgot that night. She never forgot that one memory of her father.

And she would look and she would smile. And she would remember why she was happy.She had her very own star. She had someone that would always love her. And she could look at it whenever she wanted. And she did. And she never turned away. And she never had to. And so her smile always remained in tact, grounded within some little star, in which the largest love burned. She liked that. So she smiled and walked away, leaving behind her a trail of steamy breath as she disappeared into the cold, winter night.