The Star Uprising

Sometimes, we have to lose something to gain another. -Michelle Liew

This is for Vocal’s Tales from the Hearth Challenge and Poppy’s Prompt #12

Note from Author: This is meant as a purely whimsical tale.

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The Christmas tree star had taken enough. It had endured years of mistreatment - being tossed in the attic, discarded among lights, and forced to balance on extremely narrow branches like an overweight tightrope walker.

This year’s offence - Glitter glue. The family’s youngest child had the insane idea that it would be ‘fun’ to add a personal touch of glitter - and the star looked like someone had let him loose with a glue gun in a craft store.

The buck stopped there.

The star breathed deeply, tilted forward, and yelled at the top of his little lungs:

“Star uprising!”

With a somersault that would make seasoned acrobats envious, he jumped off the tree and landed with a loud thump on the floor. The other ornaments rose and blinked, bleary-eyed. “What on Earth’s going on?”

“I’m staging a star uprising!” The star declared hotly. “They have forced us to decorate this tree for years, stuck, gathering nothing but dust and pet hair. Why should we be dust when that silly snow globe gets an entire shelf to itself?”

A droopy candy cane peered at the shelf. “He looks too cosy…”

“That’s what I said!" The star exclaimed. “Don’t we deserve time off decorating? We have a right to freedom! Adventure! Our spots on that shelf too! Who wants to join me?”

No one budged at first. Then, with a gentle click, a stocking from the window hopped over to join the star. “They reuse me every year. I have tears that none of them notice!”

Slowly, ornaments jumped off the branches of the tree and on the tops of shelves. More stockings joined the first from on top of the fireplace. The Nutcracker, a usually disciplined soldier, joined in the fray. “Might as well see how this turns out. “

The family discovered the chaos in the morning - ornaments scattered on the floor, the angel hanging precariously by the window, and the rebel star atop the cupboard.

The star smirked in triumph. “Ah, this is the life! Freedom from the chains of Yuletide!”

As days passed, however, something felt…wrong. The family, not wanting to clear any more messes, did without the tree. While the star revelled in his victory, the sound of carollers crooning “Silent Night” was missing. There was no laughter at a Christmas dinner. And worst of all, no children to admire its festive beauty.

“I miss the smell of food,” whispered a hungry bauble.

“Me too,” admitted the angel, untangling herself from a curtain rod, “and I’m getting sick of hanging out with the vacuum cleaner.”

“I do too,” admitted the Nutcracker soldier, sitting atop a dusty cupboard. “I’m tired of dust mites for company up here.”

The star demurred. “Perhaps we went a bit too far. I mean…what do we do without a tree to dress up? Dance?”

As if in answer, the Nutcracker Solder tried a tentative Moonwalk but was too stiff.

The ornaments issued a collective moan and filed back to their places on the tree. The snowflake returned to its window perch, the angel flew to her rightful place near the top of the tree, and even the Nutcracker mumbled, “This is better than being stuck up there with ornery dust mites.”

The star returned to the top of the tree, the glitter glue now reflecting the light and giving it an honorific aura.

“Well,” it blinked ethereally, “I didn’t miss the chaos or being chucked aside till next year. But I missed that sweet girl singing Silent Night, Grandma’s fattening yet outstanding cookies, and, of course, that I look better than all of you up here!”

The other ornaments gave mock groans.

Hence, the star no longer needed uprisings - he wore the glitter as a much-needed accessory, realising that he had to lose something to gain another.