Our sun. It warms us, it gives us light. It is the source of light. It is the signal that a new day has dawned, and new possibilities are near. The sun has been a symbol of hope for humans for millennia. As a child, the sun governed my days. I didn’t wear a watch. When the sun communicated, it was time to go home with its orange glow low in the sky, I began heading home. The sun helped me, even with washing my clothes. The sun toned my brown skin, it illuminated my world. I owe a lot to the sun. It brought me life. The sun was always there, I never thought it would ever cease to exist.
On April 25, 1989, the sun didn’t rise! Its warmth was absent, in its place a void, a dark, cold, unpleasant void. I felt it. I would have to have a different source of life, a different source of strength, a different source of consistency. I would have to find a different way to measure time, and different way to wake up and a different inaudible voice to bring me home in the evenings. When the sun ceased to exist, I couldn’t exist either. It would only be a matter of time until I shriveled up and died. The sun was my everything, I needed the sun to live. In an instant, it was gone, and it would not be coming back. That much was clear.
The sun-my sun had a name and a face. My sun’s name was Ma, she had a face that I stared into every day. She woke me up in the morning, and called me home in the evening. She fed me when I was hungry, and warmed me when I was cold. She gave me life, and she sustained my life. She was ever present and reliable. It was by her light that I saw everything else. My ma, spoke words of encouragement. She corrected me when I was wretched. She kept my brown skin glowing by cleaning and shining me daily. My world revolved around her. My sun, my sun, didn’t rise one day, and I cried.
The moon aimed to take the sun’s place. The moon was always the stabilizer of my universe. It controlled the gravitational pulls within me. Never allowing my tides to get too high or too low. It brought just the right amount of light to the darkness when the sun settled daily. It ruled my evenings and nights. It was the lesser light, but its impact was felt physically. The moon was always somewhat of a mystery. It controlled the length of my months, it was the math behind the madness. The moon, though the lesser light was more disciplined to my mental needs.
On August 24, 1990, the moon was taken away. Though I wasn’t there, I felt something was off about my gravity. Something was off about the timing of my everything. The tides of my moods sank and rarely recovered. I sat on a dry mental beach, as the sand hardened beneath me. I sank lower and lower and my footing became more and more uncertain as I walked the beach. The tide had gone out, and it would never return. The night was dark, but it was cloudless, it was an endless abyss.
The moon, my moon had a face, a stern square jawed face. My moon’s name was Pa. My moon loved Ancient Rome and Latin. My moon demanded academic success. My moon struggled to do the job of my sun after it didn’t rise. It was too hard. I clung to my moon, but it too ceased to exist. I was left without my guide. I began floating through outer space, spinning faster and faster, and more out of control. I had nothing to orbit, and nothing to orbit me. I had lost track of my days and months, and I was devoid of light.
The Creator of the sun and moon, stepped in. The source of the source of the two lights, the architect of gravity, the creator of warmth and the author of life came in. The source came for the earth, to stabilize it. Before I ever knew The Creator of the sun and the moon He knew me. I am thankful for The Creator of the sun moon and stars. The Creator, my Creator is God. God created my ma and pa, and he created me. Now that I am being warmed by many other suns, and controlled by other moons I am thankful. One day I will be someone else’s moon. I will guide someone, because I was loved and guided by the two great lights.