The word spread through Heaven’s hammock faster than a meteor: Stella refused to fall! Comets chortled, the Man in the Moon murmured, and whole galaxies gossipped the delicious story.

Refused to fall, indeed! All stars must fall, that’s why they’re up there, in the powder-puff of silver glitter that is the night sky.

God came to talk to Stella. He shook his head slowly.

“My Dear, if you don’t become a falling star then no-one can wish upon you” he said, in his loud Creator-of-all-Things voice.

“What’s a wish?” Stella asked God.

“A wish,” said the One who knows Everything “is what somebody wants, more than anything else in the whole world. Young girls wish for a Prince and young boys wish for a bicycle. Sometimes old men wish for lost memories, old women wish for eternal happiness. Everybody wishes for something to make them happy.”

“I wish I could stay up here forever, shining every night on the world below,” said Stella, just as a flashing streak lit the sky all around them.

God nodded, and in his best God-voice proclaimed: “From this night, Stella shall be the eternal light, the guiding star, and the light of the way.”

The other stars all twinkled their approval.

They were happy. God was, too. Stella beamed her happiness.

She’s still beaming.