When I was a little girl, my grandpa used to take me on long walks every night after dinner. On these long walks, he’d carry me on his shoulders so that I could get a three-year-old’ version of an aerial view of what I thought was the whole city. Every so often during the month, the moon would be out with us on our walks. I remember my young mind perplexed by the fact that no matter how far we walked the moon was always at the same place right above us.
“Why isn’t the moon behind us?” I’d ask. “Is it trying to beat us somewhere?”
“The moon is not racing against us,” he’d respond. “The moon is following you. The moon knows you’re the most beautiful princess in the whole world, and it can’t stop staring at you. So it follows you everywhere you go.”
I remembered, every…
View original post 78 more words