The Story Of The Sun

The little girl hopped onto my lap like an exited little bunny. “Do you think the sun ever gets lonely up there?” She asked in her small voice.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I responded.

She tilted her small head of fluffy brown. “Why don’t you know?”

I laughed. “Somethings we just aren’t supposed to know.”

“But why?” She pestered. The sun made her skin look even softer, like a chick’s feathers.

“Well,” I thought. “Maybe the sun surrounds herself with stars, but she may never need them. I think she finds the stars so she can see their light, but who she truly longs for is the moon. Except she can’t have the moon.”

“That’s sad.” She pouted, a little crease forming between her brows. “Why can’t the sun have the moon if she wants her so bad?”

I smiled sadly. “The sun and moon have jobs to do. The sun needs to rule the day, and the moon the night. But it’s not that sad, really. The sun watches the moon every day as she falls. And the moon gazes upon the sun everyday as she herself falls too.”

“But they still can’t be together! How’s that not sad?” I laughed, for this girls passion was both unyielding and adorable.

“The sun and moon still get to see each other. They embrace in light at the changes of night and day.”

She turned her head. “Is that what sunrises and sunsets are?”

“Yes. That’s why you see all those bright colors. It’s the sun and the moon reunited at last.”

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