Shooting Stars
I spent some time tonight stargazing, an activity aided by a wonderful moonless night but slightly hindered by the shining lights of my lawn mower. I might not want to mow in the darkness but the light of the ancients were interesting company.
Those same stars weren’t as comforting for my oldest son. Our little chat on the front step of our home met with some apprehension as I turned off the porch lights. I wanted to point out the Milky Way. He wanted to express his sudden fear of shooting stars.
Apparently, they are huge. And they make lots of noise. And go, “shroom across the sky.” The wide eyed child that told me this story, complete with a wide wave with his hand, surely wanted no parts of these world ending objects.
I explained to him what little I know. I spoke of little rocks. I told him that shooting stars are silent and beautiful. I attempted to relate them to one of the things he dearly loves, rollercoasters.
My little man considered these facts but didn’t seem to believe me. My explanation did, however, seem to have an one effect. It created a story.
I learned that “when he was little” a shooting star once fell in front at his feet. He picked up this star and had a little conversation.
“Why are you here little star?”
I was told of its bouncing. I was told it returned to the sky. I learned that his story seemed to both comfort and delight him.
We both enjoyed the sky this evening. He used his imagination to help things along. I used some help from John Deere.
