I’ve always wished on stars. I’ve wished on stars ever since I was a kid. I see a star and I quote the rhyme:
Star light star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may I wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight
I’ve always wished on stars. A wish on a star is not to be taken lightly. There is an importance to it. There is a propper way to handle it. A wish on a star should never be a flippant, light hearted wish and it is not a hope. A hope is a feeling that what you want is within your reach. “I hope mom doesn’t make me do the dishes.” “I hope I get that bike for Christmas.” “I hope I get at least a B on that test.” These hopes are humanly possible. A wish on a star should never be wasted on things that are merely humanly possible.
I was outside the other night taking out the garbage and I looked up at the sky and saw a star. I quoted the rhyme and then I stopped. I couldn’t make a wish. None of the things that I’ve been wishing for lately could be wished on this star. I stood there quietly and thought that wishing could not make them so. And then, all of the sudden, I started to think that if a wish is supposed to be more powerful than a hope, why do my wishes feel so empty. I’m taking them seriously so why do they feel empty? Maybe I’m taking them too seriously.
Maybe I really don’t want what I’m wishing for. I once wished them true but now, if I look deep down and am truthful with myself, I no longer do. If wishing made it so, I could actually be pretty miserable. The unfortunate thing is…I no longer have anything to wish for.