Of stars and stuffed toys

Its been a long time since i gave stuffed toys and stars such thought. The things that follow us through our childhood, like our bedside guardians as we battled through our fears of the dark and the monsters in our closets. As we grow, we outgrow such things that our childhoods are made of. Stuffed bears, cute kittens, stars that bore the brands "GOOD", "VERY GOOD", and "EXCELLENT" that made the centrepiece of every test paper, all contributed to this sense of security, that somehow it was a reciprocal relationship: Caring for your bedside pals as they watched you sleep and comforted you after waking from nightmares, and the stars that told you that you were worth so much, just as they were worth so much to you.

And just when u realise you think you've lost them, they sneak back into your life like musk from a scented candle, its sweet fragrance slowly permeating the room as a lit candle brings warmth, and a mystical sense of energy that fires bring that altogether reinvigorate the soul from the pangs of hunger that arrives with age and maturity; what it brings is more than the satisfaction that food delivers to an empty stomach, and more than the reassurance that the moon's still in the night sky: Just a fuzzy warm feeling, sweet and fragrant, like the bursting of a new blossom in the song of spring, evermore the new beginning that we always wanted from what we always had.

I found a little star MOGU.