It was a cold winter evening when Twinkle woke up. He shivered in the cold as he watched the sun fade behind the earth below him. Winter meant shorter days and longer nights, and for a nocturnal star like Twinkle, that meant less sleep. He yawned and stretched, casting a dim light in all directions. He glanced at the other stars. Some shone so brightly they were fixtures in the sky, guiding stars to people below. Others delivered wishes, speeding trails of light in the sky. Still others were memory stars, standing as lasting monuments to great men and women who had died and passed on. Others still simply filled the night sky with beautiful light. Twinkle was none of those things, being too small to be useful for anything- he knew no one could even see him in the sky yet. But someday he'd be bigger, and shine so brightly he'd bring hope to everyone! He took a deep breath, and tried harder. His light brightened for a moment and he grinned happily. See, he COULD do it! He'd be a big bright star in no time! He'd be a beacon of hope in the night sky! But just as quickly as hope had flared, his light flickered, and died. His grin turned to a gasp of fear. How was this possible? A star ALWAYS glowed, even when asleep. Did this mean he couldn't be a star anymore?! He desperately tried to to shine again. Where was his light? A very un-star-like tear dripped from the star's eye and then another, until he was crying in earnest. What use was a star that couldn't shine? Suddenly, he started to fall! He slipped through the sky, the descent drying the tears on his face as the earth loomed below him. So, this is what it's like to be a falling star, he thought miserably. Except that he carried no human wish, and no light... what a useless star he was! He realized, after a time, that his fall was slowing. He spun and drifted as he lazily fell to the earth almost like the snowflakes around him. His light was gone, and he was just a white, empty star. The snowdrifts were cold, but soft, and welcomed him to rest in the quiet way that snow can. And there he lay, silently mourning, when a man's warm hands scooped him out of the snow. “My, my... What caused you to fall so far from home?†The man's eyes were kind and thoughtful as he gazed at the sad star in his hands. Twinkle just sighed. What was the use? He was too small. He couldn't shine anymore. He had lost his hope forever. So he said nothing as the man with red hat brought him inside a warm house. The man sang quietly to himself—a pretty little Christmas song—as he pulled out a festive box, tucked a soft, dark blanket inside, and gently placed the star in the center. “Just rest, my little star, rest!†He gave the star a wink and reassuring smile before he closed the box. Darkness descended, and the sad little star closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep to the sound of a deep voice singing. When Twinkle stirred again, waking from a deep slumber, he wondered where he was. He could feel the box moving, He heard the sounds of paper ripping and muffled voices around him. What was going on? He blinked as the the box lid opened suddenly, filling his vision with multicolored lights. The face of a young girl stared down at him, with a look of— was that horror? Shock? Dismay? He hung his head, ashamed to be seen- the star that couldn't shine! “Oh, Mama!†the girl gasped. “He's beautiful!†Twinkle's eyes flew open. What? Did she really say beautiful? He stared back at the girl, who was taking him out of the box and cradling him in her hands as if he was something precious. As he studied her face, he slowly recognized the expression. Wonder! She really thought he was beautiful! The girl whirled, holding the star up to a man's bemused face. “Papa! He's perfect! Can't we put him on the tree?†She spun again, and he saw that all the colorful light was coming from a tree strung with lights and colorful decorations. The man's laughter filled the room with warm sound. “Of course! Can't think of anywhere better for this little star to shine!†The man lifted the little girl onto his shoulders, and carefully, the girl fastened Twinkle to the topmost branch. She patted him with a gentle hand, before the man set her down again. For a long moment, the family stared at the tree. The room filled with hopeful expectancy as three pairs of eyes watched him. Twinkle felt odd. He felt warm in this home, surrounded by lights and music, and friendly people. Perhaps....he could try again, for the sake of this family. He took a deep breath. He reached for his light, and stretched, nervously at first, then with shy delight as his light glowed! But was it enough? He wasn't a very bright star, after all! He would never be a beacon in the sky! But sighs of contentment and happiness came from the family watching him, and he realized that this family didn't need a beacon. They didn't need a direction star, or a wishing star, or a bright star. Here, in this little room, full of hope, and a tree to rest upon, his light was just right. He was, indeed, the perfect star for the job. Twinkle belonged, and on that Christmas, and for many many others to come, Twinkle lived up to his name, merrily twinkling from the treetop in the place that he called home. Inspiration: A story of finding hope and purpose, for my son, based on our shared wonder of the treetop Christmas star! Word count 998