I thought you might enjoy this poem we read with the children at Rebusca today...
Some people are stars. Some people are comets.
Comets pass by. They are remembered only by the dates on which they come and go. Stars stick around. The sun sticks around. Years pass, millions of years, and still stars remain. Comets disappear.
There are many comets in the world today. They pass through, illuminating people’s lives for a few moments, igniting no-one, being ignited by no-one. They have no true friends. They pass by, leaving no trace.
There are many comets in the world today. Many are artists, for instance. They shine brilliantly for a time on life’s stage. And just as quickly as they appear, soon they are gone. Kings and Queens of all kinds. Kings of nations, Queens of societies, Beauty Queens. Girls and Boys who fall in and out of love without a second thought. Members of families who pass each other by without really belonging.
It’s important to be a star. To keep on shining. To be present. To leave a trace. To be together. To be a light. Friends are stars. Years may pass, and they may be distant, but the mark they leave on the heart never fades.
To be a comet is to not be a friend. To be a companion for a while; to be trusted and mistrusted all at once.(...)Friends are stars in our lives. You can count on them. They are always there. They are a gentle breeze in moments of tension. Light in the darkest of places. Bread in moments of weakness. Assurance in moments of distress.
When we look at comets, it feels good to know we’re not like them, to not get caught in their blazing tails. Looking at comets, it feels good to know we are more like stars, ever-present. To have lived and have a personal story. To have been light and heat for many.
To be a star in this fleeting world, in this world littered with comets, is a challenge, but always worthwhile. To be a star is to be born and to have lived, not merely to have existed.
Wilson João (Translation Mine)