Vast, or How The Stars Came to Be

Very long ago, before The People walked the Earth, the Sun and the Moon ruled the skies.  The two faithfully stood guard, and their light kept the Dark emptiness of the Void from devouring the Earth.

The Sun was the Ruler of the Day; his benevolent rays extended in every direction around him.  All were warmed and heartened by his light, and the Darkness fled.

The Moon was much smaller than the Sun.  Her mild light was only strong enough to protect the Earth, not herself.  The Darkness often curled around the Moon hungrily; she felt very small and alone.

"I am very lonely," The Moon told the Sun one day as they passed.  The Sun loved the Moon very much, and he did not want her to be unhappy.  The Sun went to the Great Spirit.

"Please help the Moon," The Sun beseeched Him. "She is lonely, and I would do anything to see her happy once more."

The Great Spirit smiled at the selflessness of His Creation.  He broke off the rays of the sun, crushed them in his hands, and blew the fragments across the vast emptiness around the Earth.  The Void, and its darkness, retreated far away. Then the Great Spirit called the new fragments lighting the sky Stars, and he healed the Sun so his rays once more extended all around him.

When the Moon Rose the next evening, she was delighted to find the many millions of stars sparkling around her, and the Darkness gone.  She would never be lonely again, the Stars told her.  Now the Stars shine their laughter each night, and the Moon beams with happiness. 


***I was thinking about the prompt yesterday during our state's annual standardized torture testing, and this story sprang to mind.  I don't know if there are any Native American folktales about the Sun, Moon, and Stars, but if there are, any similarities to my story are completely accidental.  And I even had some pictures to upload, but Evernote is apparently "offline", so...no pictures.  Which is probably good--I am no artist!

Mamakat's Prompt:
2.) Write a blog post inspired by the word: Night.

Sweet Repeats

Zane jumped into bed with me yesterday morning, put his face close to mine, and when I opened my eyes, he says...

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside."

"Uh...Okay," I blearily respond. Because if you don't respond immediately to a child, if you don't hear him or pretend to ignore what he said to get him to change the subject, the child will repeat himself.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside." If you STILL don't respond, Zane always decides that volume might get the point across.

"WHEN THE SUN COMES UP, IT WILL BE LIGHT OUTSIDE!"

So I agree with Zane's assessment regarding the sun, we go downstairs so I can have a cup of cold coffee and maybe read the paper. My husband gave this statement to him, when they were discussing day and night. I have no idea why Zane has been repeating this sentence over and over for the last three days, but he has. He always states this fact with the same inflection and cadence, which I normally would find fascinating. If not for the fact that he's said the same thing about eleventy-billion times.

Thirty minutes later, Zane walks over to me carrying his Buzz Lightyear doll, er--action figure. I am at the kitchen table, actually reading the newspaper, which I don't usually get to do.

"Mama," he says. I don't respond immediately; I am reading. Actual big words and complete sentences, which require some concentration.

"Mama," my son tries again, more urgently this time. He pulls my arm as emphasis. I look up at Zane, expecting him to tell me that he has to go to the bathroom or something.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside," my child states this with certainty. You can see that he is very committed to this statement.

"Yes. You are exactly correct, Zane. When the sun comes up, it WILL be light outside," I respond, changing the emphasis a bit to see what will happen. Zane runs off with Buzz to play some more, and I get to finish reading my newspaper article.

Twenty minutes later, I am in the shower, getting ready for the day. All of a sudden, Zane bursts into the bathroom.

"Mama! Mama!" he yells. I turn off the water and open the shower door, my MomAlarm!(tm) sounding in my head.

"What?!!! What is it?!!!" I look at my son, expecting him to tell me that his father is hurt or some other emergency that would match the urgency in his voice.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside." Zane runs off, leaving the bathroom door wide open and his mother with heart palpitations.

Fifteen minutes later, Zane is suddenly at my side. I am putting on my makeup. He takes my hand in his, rubs it on his cheek.

"Yes, sweetie?" Zane mumbles something. I lean down to hear him. He mumbles again. I lean closer still.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside."

It was a very long day. And as I tucked my sweet, wonderful, smart child into his bed and kissed him good night, he reached up and touched my face.

"When the sun comes up, it will be light outside," he whispered, just before his eyes closed.