A New Beginning (Part 2)

More about A New Beginning (Part 2)

One night, lying in the Subaru, her mama pointed at the stars. “Those aren’t scars on your face,” she whispered. “They’re stars.”

Her mama explained how stars are born - massive clouds of gas & dust collapse under their own weight, pulling chaos & energy together until something bright & powerful ignites. “It takes thousands of years for a star to form,” she said, “but look at you. You did it in months!”

She handed the little girl a broken mirror. “Look,” she said, tracing a scar near her temple. “This one is the collapse. And this one,” her finger moved to a jagged line near her jaw, “is the chaos. And here,” she brushed a curve near her cheekbone, “is your light. Every scar tells your story. You’re not broken, my pirate. You’re a star.”

The girl held the mirror close, trying to see what her mama saw. For the first time, she didn’t notice the scars in the usual manner - she saw the story they told. In that moment, under the car’s makeshift canopy of stars, she believed it. Her scars no longer felt like burdens. They were anchors, keeping her grounded in the story of who she was becoming; marks of survival; parts of an unfolding cosmic mystery.

It wasn’t the beginning of the end. It was the beginning of something new.

She would always treasure that night & the gift her mama left her. She didn’t fear mirrors anymore, but she didn’t need them either. The reflection of that ethereal, cosmic star-in-the-making girl was etched in her heart & mind.

Her mama was gone, but her light remained. The Golden Magacharter still insinuated people like her were pirates, but she didn’t mind anymore. She’d made the term her own. Sometimes, she even wore an eyepatch, laughing to herself at what her mama would say if she could see her.

She was still a little kid, but she was also the captain of her own ship. She scavenged what she needed, fixed up the Subaru, & made sure her ship was ready to sail.

That night, she sat in the driver’s seat of the Subaru, staring at the stars. Her mama’s words echoed in her memory - “You’re a star.” Tonight, she realized something new. Her mama had always been the real star - the North Star, her guiding light.

“Stars never really die,” her mama had told her. “They scatter their light & dust, & they become part of something new.” Her mama’s light - her steady North Star - still shone through her, illuminating the scars on her face & the strength in her heart.

As she stared at the stars, her hand drifted to the wheel. Her mama’s presence seemed to whisper, “You’re ready now, my pirate. Shine brighter. Go further. Explore the galaxy.”
The girl smiled, her scars glowing faintly under the starlight. Her ship was ready to sail, & so was she. The little pirate started the engine & drove into the unknown - a captain, a star, her own guiding light.

©2024 SHI. All rights reserved. All images, expressed content & narrative associated with original alias “Bailey’s Mom” are prohibited from use.