Have you ever looked up at the sky on a clear night? Is it not so magical to watch the sky studded with stars? Have you ever wondered how a star is born? My limited knowledge of the subject tells me that it takes a tremendous amount of concentrated energy to give birth to a star. So that one tiny star we see in the sky is a product of many years of tremendous energy. Let us go down to earth now.

Have you ever sat waiting for a show to start? I do not mean a big, spectacular, professionally mounted production. I mean one that is simple and rather crude. One that is written, produced, directed, and features 10-year-olds. On many occasions, I have had the chance to sit patiently and wait for an amateur show to begin. Definitely, it is one mounted with a lot of love. I have lovingly watched the EDSA Children’s Prayer Group put up a few numbers for whatever occasion, be it for the Cardinal’s birthday or a simple get-together of the community.

Well, one day, I was invited by my young friend to watch a show at an all-girls school for her culminating activity. While I was waiting for the show to begin,! I started thinking of the usual 101 things I had to do and could be doing. Yet, I sat there and watched the movements. Little girls all excitedly traipsing around in their almost oversized costumes. Then the audience, also comprised primarily of little tykes, kept themselves busy by giggling and telling all kinds of stories. They sat there comparing hairclips, fingernails, and anything else under the sun.

I ask myself: Why do I sit here waiting for a show of this caliber to begin? One, because I was invited. Two, because I value the one who invited me. I think to myself: this child will not be a child for long. Soon, she will be a woman with many more serious concerns other than her ponytail falling apart or not having the latest kind of school bag. I certainly do not want to see her walking into the confessional one day crying to me about a problem. I would give anything to shield her from problems.

I believe this moment counts. I hope this moment counts for her. I hope I give her enough importance, enough courage, and enough prodding to believe in herself. I hope she can one day walk tall and say, once a dear family friend loved me, as a true parent would love a child. I hope she feels that if I believed in her enough and loved her enough, then maybe she can believe in herself too.

I wonder how often my parents have come to watch all my big and small productions. How many times have they made time for me? I am certain they did not come to watch our shows to see how nice our school productions were. They came to watch me, and watch me they did, with only one message: “I believe in you! I love you! Go ahead and shine.”

If parents claim they love their children and often tell them they do, I certainly hope that school auditoriums will never be lacking in parents who come not to criticize the production. If they come merely to criticize, I am sure the original message will go in now garbled and misunderstood.

It must be clear to all that the purpose of the show is not to value it for its theatrical brilliance. At least not while the performers are only ten years old. It must be clear that the parents’ message is: “I took time to let you know, dear child, that I believe in you. I love you. I am right behind you. Go ahead and shine.” This is the kind of energy the children need. A constant, concentrated amount of loving energy through the years does have its own yield. I think this is how a “real star” is born.

Jesus Our Light

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