As dawn rose blushing to wake the day and dusk sank yawning to sleep the night, the Sun and the Moon met along their indigo orbits. In passing, they greeted one another, and the Sun noticed with a sympathetic glance how the Moon had waned since last they met. The Moon glanced back with a faded smile before she disappeared, and despite her sorrow, the Sun could do no more than turn her face to shine.
Once again, they crossed paths along the sky, and the Sun’s eyes brimmed with glowing tears as the Moon descended dimmer than before. The next day too, the Sun sighed and the Moon hung her head. And each morning saw the same again and again until merely a sliver of pearl in a sphere of coal remained to light the night—and then even the sliver slipped away into velvet black.
From across the world and below the horizon, the Sun turned her eyes to seek the Moon yet found nothing but the reigning night. Teardrops, luminescent white, slid down her cheeks showering the sky. They shimmered and scintillated in the daylight like the sunset against snow. The Wind saw the Sun’s tears and with a gentle breeze swept them of her face blowing them across the world and beyond the horizon.
The Moon diligently watched over the pitch blackness of night. Burnt out as charcoal, she wondered whether man below missed her almond lamp; she wondered whether she would ever glow again with milky light; she wondered whether this was the end of her existence—if the One of Above who presided over all the heavens had no more use for her. And she wept, slow, inky tears dripping into the sky.
“Let me still shine. Please, let me,” she whispered and dried her eyes.
Half-way through her vigil, the Moon looked up towards the horizon, and to her great surprise saw snowy droplets on the back of the breeze prancing toward her. They sang a song of sweet sounds and these are the words she heard from their trilling voices:
“The Sun cried and the Moon wept,
The One Above their tears kept.
With His breath the Wind blew
So that across the world we flew
To light the inky sky
With bonfires burning high
—To comfort the gentle Moon
And brighten her out of gloom.”
Their music swelled and rolled in ripples of breeze that lapped over and around her so that the shimmering snowflakes sprinkled the dark sky like diamond dust. Fixed against the night, they softened their song to a silent hum. Like winking flowers, they too watched over the blackness.
The Moon’s milky glow waxed and waned over the passing dawns and dusks, but she no longer wept for she was no longer alone in her nightly task.
And the Stars—for so the little lanterns were named—their silent hum evanesced into the heavens and joined the spheres in their eternal echo.
Meet the Author
How old are you?
I’m a seventeen-year-old and a high school senior oddly perceived either as a middle-schooler or a college student.
Where do you live?
I was born, raised, and still live in the coastal city of Tampico, Mexico. I am thus a “tampiqueña,” taking on the name of my city, but people who know me usually tweak the word to “tan pequeña” meaning “so tiny”–an accurate description of my height (or should I say shortness? I do wonder whether I’m the descendant of pygmies or pixies…)
What classes are you taking with TPS?
This year I am taking Chemistry with Mr. Riesen and completing my second year of Belhaven High Scholars through TPS.
What’s your favorite thing about writing?
Oh dear. I’m usually not a person for single favorites, but here’s one of my favorite aspects: writing forces you to make sense of the world around you. You have an infinite number of themes or plot twists you could take on, each defining the world you are weaving through words, each defining a perspective in which you the author and your readers can look at the real world. It’s a precious and simple capability injecting meaning into your own life as well as your audience’s life.