ADULTS SEEMED to be fond of asking children what they wanted to be when they grow up—or at least when I was a kid, I was often asked so. “A star” was my favorite answer, and I guess it was an answer they found cute, until I reached a certain age anyway—then they just thought I was silly or aimless.
At present, I am at an age when people no longer asked me what I wanted to be; instead they asked what I was. I am a doctor, and my parents can never have been prouder. I am proud of myself too. After all the sleepless nights and excruciating bouts of loose bowel movements, constipation and gastritis, here I am now, able to afford five square meals a day, not only for myself but also for my family through work I can be proud of and am very much happy about.
Still, even as comfortable as I am now, I want to be a star.
Stars do not shine for people to see; they just do. That is just how they are, so even if something else or another outshines them, they will continue shining anyway.
I want to live an existence just like that. F MARIA ANTIONETTE A. MALICSE
