“There was this telescope that I saw a few years back. I was walking through a crafts fair and I stopped by a space booth. It had mini planets hanging from the ceiling and the people were selling blankets with constellations mapped on them. And I remember thinking, I’ll come back with you next year to buy it because I wanted you to see how intricately designed everything was. But then you had work and I was at the hospital all the time. Then, somehow, the gift, my desire to buy it—I’d forgotten all about it.”

I never noticed how much hair she’d lost. Her lips had gotten so dry over time. Her cheeks, normally a golden, crisp red were now pale. She spoke with a sense of urgency. She grabbed my hands and while coughing, she continued…

“So many tomorrows I remember counting with these fragile, aging hands. But how many more tomorrows do you have compared to me? But forget ‘tomorrow’, I only know of today. I know you wanted to study art in college and you gave that up because it wouldn’t make much, but I have seen you sketching in your book every night. You stare at each page like you’re gazing into a galaxy. For centuries, people marveled at the stars but only one man built a telescope out of his amazement. A dreamer is full of life—he even gives life to his dreams. But what if the dreamer doesn’t chase his dream? What did we find out when we got closer to the night sky? Stars burn out. Desire fades if you don’t fuel it. So get that art major. Chase your dreams. Chase today and every minute of it; paint it with your vision.”

Our hands were coated in her tears.

“When we see a shooting star, we’re not saddened by the fact that it’s crashing. Instead we’re driven by the idea that something inside it was so strong that even in its last moments it is brighter and faster than anything else. And in that single moment of its death, hundreds of wishes are made by dreamers. So what if you don’t make millions? You would have made your dream a palette of inspiration for others. What if I’m not here when you live on? I’m not your dream. I’m a dreamer myself.”


She lifted up her dying cheeks with one last smile.

“We may not live forever, but maybe our dreams can.”

For centuries, people went stargazing. But only one man went out and built a telescope, so that even when he was gone from this world and could no longer stare at the night sky, someone else could have a close glimpse of the stars. Your dream is a lantern and your job is to light it. And when you do, don’t hold onto it. Set it free to the universe. Don’t wait ‘til its light burns out.