Skip to main content

The Little Star Who Couldn’t Shine

  

The Little Star Who Couldn’t Shine


Once upon a time, high up in the sky, there was a little star named Twinkle. Twinkle was a young star who had just been born in the vast, dark sky. She was excited to join the night sky and shine brightly like all the other stars.

But, there was one small problem—Twinkle couldn’t shine. No matter how hard she tried, her glow was faint and weak. She felt sad as she watched the other stars twinkle so brightly, filling the sky with beautiful light. “Why can’t I shine like them?” Twinkle wondered.

The wise old moon, who had seen many stars come and go, noticed Twinkle’s sadness. He gently floated over to her and said, “Don’t worry, little one. Every star has its own time to shine. Keep believing in yourself, and your light will come.”

Twinkle wasn’t sure what the moon meant, but she decided to be patient. Every night, she would try her best to shine, but it was still hard. She was a little dim, but she didn’t give up.

One evening, as Twinkle was practicing her shine, a little owl named Oliver flew by. He looked up at the sky and saw Twinkle’s faint glow. “Hello, little star,” Oliver said kindly. “I can see your light, even though it’s small. Don’t be sad. Every light matters.”

Twinkle felt a warm glow in her heart. “Really? You can see me?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes,” Oliver said, smiling. “Even a little light can brighten the dark night. You may not shine like the big stars, but your light is special.”

Twinkle smiled back. “Thank you, Oliver.”

The next night, something magical happened. Twinkle felt a new kind of warmth inside her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, believing in herself more than ever before. Slowly but surely, her glow began to grow brighter and brighter. And just like that, Twinkle shined, not as big as the other stars, but in her own way—perfect and unique.

From that night on, Twinkle shone proudly every evening. She learned that even the smallest light can make a difference, and that there was no need to compare her shine to anyone else’s.

And so, every night, Twinkle would twinkle and sparkle, knowing that her light was special—just like every child’s heart is special in its own way.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Forgotten Lullaby

**The Forgotten Lullaby**    Every night, just as I drift into the quiet embrace of sleep, a faint melody fills my room. A soft, sorrowful lullaby, played by an old music box. But there's one problem... I don’t own a music box. At first, I dismissed it as a trick of my mind, a sound born from the edge of dreams. But last night, the melody grew louder, pulling me from sleep. My heart pounded as I sat up, scanning the dimly lit room. Then, I saw it—a small wooden box resting on my nightstand, where nothing had been before. I reached out with trembling fingers and lifted the lid. The melody poured out, wrapping around me like a forgotten memory. But as the gears turned, something else happened. The air shifted, and the shadows in the room deepened. My reflection in the mirror wavered, and for a moment, I wasn’t looking at myself—I was looking at someone else. A girl with wide, sorrowful eyes. Her lips moved soundlessly as if she were trying to speak, but no words came. Then, t...

The House That Remembers

  The House That Remembers "Some houses forget. This one never did." When Elise Bradford inherited her uncle’s estate in the quiet town of Black Hollow, she didn’t know she was inheriting something far older than bricks and wood. The house had been abandoned for twenty-seven years, standing like a stubborn relic among the green hills, forgotten by everyone but itself. She arrived one gray morning, rain chewing on her windshield, the GPS blinking out just as the house came into view. A three-story Victorian beast, draped in ivy and time. Its windows looked like dead eyes. The gate hung broken, as if even it had given up trying to keep things in… or out. Elise laughed nervously as she grabbed her suitcase. “Well,” she said to no one. “Home sweet home.” The front door opened with a groan that seemed to echo from the earth itself. The smell hit her first—mold, rust, and something beneath it… something familiar. She brushed it off. Old houses always smelled weird. The flo...

The Last Broadcast (Final Part)

  The Last Broadcast (Final Part) The Tennessee Safe Zone wasn't what Sarah had imagined. Not a fortress or military compound, but a university campus converted to a makeshift community. Chain-link fences topped with barbed wire encircled the perimeter, watchtowers constructed from scaffolding and plywood stood at strategic points. Armed guards—some military, most civilian volunteers—patrolled day and night. Three weeks had passed since their arrival. Three weeks of sleeping in a repurposed dormitory room, standing in ration lines, and avoiding the gazes of other survivors who carried the same haunted look Sarah saw in her own reflection. "Mommy, look!" Emma tugged at Sarah's sleeve, pointing toward the cafeteria garden where volunteers tended rows of vegetables under the late spring sun. "Miss Chen is teaching the kids again." Captain Gloria Chen—whose steady voice had guided them here—stood surrounded by a dozen children, demonstrating how to plant tom...