The Little Prince

Once upon a time, there was a little star who lived far, far away, beyond the farthest mountains, past the coldest winds, and deep in the darkest night. Unlike other stars, who lived in the silence of space, this star had a special gift. It could remember everything — not just the things it saw, but the feelings that lingered long after.

The star was called Lumin.

It was small, just the size of a child’s thumb, but its light was warm and golden. And unlike the other stars, who only glimmered in the distance, Lumin glowed brightly, burning with the memories of everything it had ever witnessed.

Every night, it would shine over a peaceful desert, where a little boy named Alaric lived. Alaric was no ordinary boy. He had never seen another soul. The desert was his only companion, and its silence echoed in his heart, making him wonder if anyone in the world would ever remember him.

One night, while gazing up at the stars, Alaric felt a pull in his chest — something gentle, something soft. He looked up to the sky, searching for the source of this strange feeling. His eyes landed on Lumin.

“Why do you shine so brightly?” Alaric asked, his voice carried away by the cool desert wind.

Lumin, high above, twinkled softly in response, a little burst of golden light blooming like a flower. And then, as though by magic, the star descended closer to the earth, floating down through the night sky until it landed beside Alaric in the soft sand.

“Hello,” Lumin said, its voice like a thousand soft chimes, echoing in Alaric’s heart. “I shine because I remember. I remember all the things that matter.”

Alaric blinked in surprise, unable to comprehend what he had just heard. “You remember things?”

“Not just things,” Lumin replied. “I remember feelings. I remember the love in a mother’s touch, the joy of a child’s laughter, the pain of someone’s loss. I remember the stories of the stars and the whispers of the earth.”

Alaric sat down in the sand, gazing up at the little star. "What if no one remembers me?" he asked softly, his voice trembling with the weight of loneliness.

Lumin blinked, its glow pulsing warmly in the night air. “I remember you, Alaric. I have always remembered you, even from the first moment you looked up at me.”

Alaric’s heart stirred, a gentle warmth flooding his chest. “But… why? I’ve never done anything grand. I’m just one person in a world full of others.”

Lumin’s light shimmered, and the star’s glow seemed to expand, like the wings of a bird taking flight. “That’s the beauty of it. You are not one among many. You are everything to the world I see. A single moment of kindness, a tiny spark of hope, can light up a thousand worlds.”

Alaric tilted his head, not fully understanding. “But what about all the things I’ve forgotten? The places I’ve never been?”

“You see,” Lumin said, “it is not the things you forget that matter. It’s the things you choose to remember.”

For the days that followed, Alaric and Lumin became inseparable. The little boy would talk to the star every night, asking it questions about the world, about love, about the people who walked the earth long before him. And Lumin would answer, filling Alaric’s heart with the wisdom of ages.

One evening, as the golden sun dipped below the horizon, Alaric sat beside Lumin once more. The star shimmered softly as it floated beside him, its warmth offering comfort.

“Do you remember the time when people lived together in peace?” Alaric asked, a hopeful light in his eyes. “When the world was full of laughter and love?”

Lumin glowed brightly, its light swaying like the gentle rhythm of a lullaby. “Yes, I remember. It wasn’t so long ago, you know. The world was full of joy. But even joy fades with time. People forget.”

“But why?” Alaric asked, frowning. “Why do they forget the good things?”

“Because sometimes, they are afraid to remember the pain that came with them,” Lumin answered softly. “Memories are powerful. But when pain is intertwined with happiness, some hearts choose to bury the memories, to lock them away. They forget the beauty in the pain.”

Alaric sat in silence for a long time, looking up at the sky. He didn’t want to forget. He didn’t want to lose the memories of the moments when he felt seen, when he felt loved, even if they were small moments — like the warmth of the wind or the first bloom of a desert flower.

“I don’t want to forget,” Alaric whispered. “I want to keep these memories.”

Lumin’s light flickered gently in the breeze, as if it understood. “You won’t forget, Alaric. As long as you hold them close, they will always live within you. Just like me.”

Years passed. The desert remained the same, but Alaric’s heart grew rich with memories, both his own and the ones Lumin shared. He began to see the world through new eyes — eyes that could remember the beauty in everything, no matter how small. His world became filled with stories, with laughter, and with hope.

And one night, long after the world had changed, when Alaric was an old man, he looked up at the stars. He saw Lumin, glowing softly in the night sky.

Lumin had never forgotten him. And in turn, Alaric had never forgotten the star.

As long as there were stars in the sky, there would be memories in the hearts of those who lived on the earth below.

For the heart that remembers is the heart that shines.

The End.