The stars in the night sky call to me. I stand barefoot on the beach, my toes sinking into the sand, gazing up at their magnificence. I know that if I was higher up, much higher up, their multitude would be much the same as that of the grains of sand I stand upon now. My lips part in awe and I watch them twinkling and shimmering. One of the stars seems to shine brighter than all of the rest- the North Star is what I grew up believing it to be, the star that I try so hard to find in the dark skies every night to make my wish on. When I was very young, I went to camp and at night a troupe of girls would lay out on the dam and watch the ocean of brightly shining stars. Even at such a young age, we understand the breathtaking splendor of it all, the truth that we were so much more insignificant than our adolescent minds allowed us to believe. I would watch for that one bright star every night, waiting to see it make it’s appearance so I could make my wish. The wish was always the same- for love. True, unconditional love. Now, as an adult, sometimes when I am about to leave the store at night, I stand and search the skies for that star, hoping to make my wish before it’s lifespan expires, before my chance for what I wish for expires.