By Staff
Leada Gore, Editor
It had been a hard day. One of those days that makes you want to crawl between the covers, pull them over your head and wait for the world to leave you behind.
Unfortunately, that can't happen. There were things to be done for work, things to be done around the house, things to be done everywhere and for everyone. It was one of those days and the following day wasn't holding promises of anything better.
Still, just like it always does, the day progressed and night came. Some things were completed, most weren't and would just have to wait until tomorrow.
I had just sat down in the living room when I noticed Greg wander out to the back porch and sit on one of the chairs there. Shortly after, he called to me.
"You should come out here," he said. "It's really pretty tonight."
I didn't want to go. I wanted to sit in the big fluffy chair and mindlessly flip channels. I got up, however, thinking it was just one more task I had to complete before – at last – this day would be over.
I walked onto the back porch, flopping down in the metal chair.
The sky was dark, except for an occasional flash of distant heat lighting. The stars were doing their best to poke out from behind the clouds and, slowly but surely, were succeeding. In just a short time, they went from a few dots to looking like grains of sand on the beach. There was a slight breeze blowing and although the air was warm, it wasn't sticky.
The crickets were loud and seemed to grow louder by the moment, prompting us to stop talking about the day's hardships and just listen to their songs.
"There must be a million crickets around here," was the extent of the conversation.
We sat outside for about 30 minutes, just stretching out in our chairs under the stars. Greg finally broke the silence.
"I guess it's about time to go back in," he said.
I took one last glance up at the sky. At that moment, I saw a shooting star fall a short distance through the black night.
"You won't believe what I just saw," I told Greg with a smile. He smiled, too.
The night ended and it was back to work and worries the next day. Same song, second verse…too much to do and not enough time to get it all done. Then, in my always-packed email in-box, came a quote from a friend.
"No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars or sailed to an uncharted land or opened a new heaven to the human spirit," the email read.
The quote was from Alabama native Helen Keller, who, blind from a young age, didn't get to see the stars or the moon. What she did do, however, was pin her hopes of a better life to a star and then aim for that goal. Maybe it was a shooting star for her, too.