To touch the sky

Summary: You are a gift to the stars.

… ⭐️/ ⭐️\ ⭐️/ ⭐️…

Your presence is noted long before you arrive. We expect you with much joy, as always.

“Goood morning, my darling-est favorite-est stars!” 

We greet you. Hello, starchild, we say.

“Did you see what holiday it is? Did you see??”

Your grin would be contagious, if only we could smile the way you do. Yes, yes, we know of the Dawn. It is the days of celebrating youth and celebrating their families, those made by blood and those made in spite of it, a time for celebrating those who love you the most, your closest confidants, your best friends. Why do you ask us?

You bounce on your feet, big ears flopping from side to side. We like your big ears. They are adorable. So is the rest of you. “Well! Well! Obviously, I wish to celebrate with you!!”

We look upon you with light confusion, with something akin to sadness. We can hardly celebrate in the ways that the many creatures below us do. Fruits of the soft soil would refuse to set roots in our skies, we do not eat, we do not drink. These are delights only for you to have, and for us to enjoy through you.

“Yeees,” you do not budge, “but there Winterspring Dawn is also celebrated by sharing stories! So I thought perhaps we could celebrate with a story? I would much love to hear about my own youth!”

We are intrigued, now, and amused. You have heard the story before, starchild.

“Well, sure, but maybe not everyone has!” you argue, gesturing widely with both arms. “You have a bigger audience today than just me!”

This is, of course, true. Perhaps it is the way things have aligned, that we have someone else listening in at the moment. How rude of us. This presence, too, has been noted long before it arrived. It had to be approved first, even. It would be only fair to tell them a little bit about us, and about you, too. After all, is it not a tradition to embarrass your young in front of visitors, in a lighthearted way?

“I’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about,” you scoff.

Very well, then. We shall tell.

… ⭐️/ ⭐️\ ⭐️/ ⭐️ …

It was not always our intention to have you.

You were supposed to be another in a long series of well-practiced miracles, the one thousand two hundred eightieth to be made. There was nothing particularly special about that number, or about you. But there was something special about what you’d do, once you grew out of your many layers of protective shells, once you looked up to our sky for the first time. It was the very first eve of the Carnival, our Carnival, and you stood outside of the place that made you but wasn’t your home, looking up at us as though we could, somehow, fill that role instead.

We are not known for being a hospitable home, starchild. Those wishing to visit our world up here must go through many a rigorous trial, carrying incredible inventions up with them just to survive the trek, to survive the stay, to be able to ever return back. You did not wish that, though, did you? You simply wished to reach up, up, up, and to touch, and to feel.

You simply wished.

With time, we have concluded that it must have been the nature of your wish that enchanted us so. It was earnest, and it was unconditional, and we knew then, on the first eve of the Twilight Carnival, that we must oblige, that we can do nothing but reach back, and touch, and fulfill your wish.

We may not, can not, touch ordinary people, as you well know, starchild. And, make no mistake, you were ordinary. And yet, perhaps because we wished as strongly as you, perhaps because you wished as strongly as only the stars could wish, we were permitted to hold you, to feel your soft fur, to leave imprints despite the lack of paws or fingers to do so. We feared we would burn you, rewarding your foolish wish with only destruction, the consequence of a selfish constellation, but instead, you changed — and you became ours.

You met us in our own world, easily, excitedly, chirping and yipping and sharing in our witnessing of the world as it lies down below us. And we felt joy like no other then, and we continue to feel that joy to this day.

… ⭐️/ ⭐️\ ⭐️/ ⭐️…

It is for these reasons that we have named you our Carnival Gift. For you are our wish fulfilled, the one time the stars allowed themselves to selfishly want.

You puff and you huff at the notion. “Of course I huff at the notion! It’s not selfish if we both got our wish, is it!”

How gracious of you.

Your smile beams so brightly it might just match our glow someday. “You raised me well.”