The Soul of a Star

Press, 29 November 1977, Page 18

The Soul of a Star

It was dark, and I walked quickly towards the bonfire. But, as I approached, I saw a strange shape moving beside it. . « It moved gracefully but carefully around the mound of dry leaves and twigs we had built. I hesitated. Should I approach it? What was it? Would it harm me? Then I heard a rustling sound from the bonfire, and saw what seemed to be little

sparks of white light flash out from behind it. That decided me. I determined to discover who — or what — was trying to set our bonfire alight. I stepped warily to the

other side of the bonfire. Nothing. . . What was that? Down at my feet, a dry leaf rustled. “Who are you?” I asked. I heard a murmur. ’’Where are you?” I tried. A tiny voice floated up to me. “Down here.” I knelt, and strained my eyes to see this creature, but all was dark. “Who are you?”' I whispered. “I am a Star,” came the voice. “A star.” I ex-

claimed. “But a star is a huge ball of flaming gas; a. . .” “No, no,” came the voice again. “That is a star. I am a Star. I am the Soul of a star.”

“But — but I don’t understand. Why can’t I see you? Why aren’t you in the sky?” “You cannot see me because my light is dead. Wait” — as I began to interrupt — “I will explain. “You may not know this, but when a star bums itself out, after millions of years, its Soul Star burns in its place. I am one such Soul Star.

“Tomorrow, I must shine in the heavens. But, as I said, my light is dead. Soul Stars have a law. When our light dies, we must renew it from an earthly source of light. A

forbidden source of light. I have come to you.” “But why me? What can I do?” I asked. “Light the bonfire.” “But I am not allowed to.” “Exactly. Forbidden fire." “Oh, no.” I saw my dilemma. What should I do? Obey my parents or help the Star? Dad had told me specifically not to touch the bonfire. . . I tried not to think of that. The Soul Star was desperate. I had to help. Trembling, I struck a match. The flame burst from it. As I set it to the bonfire, I heard the tiny veice for the last time: “Remember Me. I am Night. I am Light. Remember Me.’’ As the bonfire burst into flames, a sliver of light shot up towards the sky — and I was alone. JULIA LAWRIE (aged 14) (This is a most interesting story, Julia, Thank you, Tikumu).