In the infinite, silent darkness of space, where time flowed like grains of sand in a bottomless hourglass, traveled Cora. She was neither a majestic star nor a colorful, ringed planet. Cora was a comet. To herself, she was just a large, dirty snowball of ice, rock, and dust, wandering aimlessly through the void. Her body, a mixture of frozen water, tiny pebbles, and ancient cosmic dust, seemed dull and worthless to her. She felt plain, ugly, and above all, invisible in the vast, cold darkness.
Whenever her lonely pilgrimage crossed the paths of glittering stars, she would sigh quietly. The stars were so perfect! They shone with a bright, steady light, confident and serene. They looked like precious diamonds that a celestial jeweler had lovingly scattered upon the black velvet of the cosmic canvas. They formed magnificent constellations, danced in pairs, or sat majestically and proudly in their places like queens on a throne. It seemed they told each other ancient stories with light, a flickering language that Cora did not understand. Their light was like a warm fire in a hearth, which she, cold and dark, could never join.
“Look at them,” Cora whispered into the frosty silence. “They are so magnificent. Every single one is like a small gem, perfect and pure. And me? I am just a frozen heap of dirt, wandering aimlessly and spoiling this beauty.” Her voice was but a quiet murmur that was instantly lost in the emptiness.
She flew on and on, for ages, and her journey was endlessly lonely and cold. Sometimes, as she passed closer to a star cluster, it seemed to her that their twinkling was not random. It felt as though they were whispering among themselves, their shimmering a quiet laughter directed at her clumsy, dark form. “Why can’t I shine like that?” she asked herself, a deep sorrow in her icy core. “What if I tried to shake all this dust off myself? Maybe there’s something underneath. Maybe then I’d be at least a little whiter and cleaner.”
With hope, she resolved to try. She shook herself violently, with her entire being, until a small cloud of dust and a few pebbles broke free. She watched with bated breath as the tiny specks scattered into the surroundings, but instead of glowing, they simply vanished helplessly into the dark. Nothing had changed. Disappointment wrapped her once more in an even colder cloak of solitude.
“Never mind,” she told herself sadly, though it mattered to her a great deal. Her heart was as heavy as one of the stones within her. “I’ll try something else. I’ll try spinning faster, maybe I’ll glisten like those polished planets!” She began to spin like a top, faster and faster. The surrounding universe blurred into smudges, but no gleam appeared. The only result was that she became dizzy and disoriented. After a while, she slowed down, exhausted and even more disheartened. It seemed she was condemned to remain forever as she was—plain and overlooked.
One day, after another endless cycle of flight through the darkness, she felt something strange. It was not the piercing cold she was used to. It was a gentle, almost imperceptible warmth, a promise of something different. It was as if someone from an immense distance were stroking her cold surface with a gentle breath. And something else. She felt an invisible yet powerful force gently pulling her in one direction. It was not violent or unpleasant. On the contrary, it was a mysterious call that awakened a curiosity and excitement she had not felt for ages.
She allowed herself to be carried by this mysterious current. The warmth grew stronger, and ahead, she saw the source of it all—a huge, dazzlingly brilliant sphere, an endless ocean of fire and light. It was the Sun. It looked so mighty and radiant that Cora grew a little afraid. Its size was unimaginable, and the power that emanated from it was overwhelming. “What if it wants to destroy me? What if it melts me completely, and I vanish forever like a drop of water in hot steam?” the thought flashed through her mind. For a moment she hesitated, but the invisible pull was stronger than her fear.
As she drew closer, her surface began to change. She felt the ancient ice within her awakening to life. At first with just a gentle tremor, then with an ever-stronger tension. Her icy crust cracked and groaned under the onslaught of heat. From her surface, clouds of gas and dust erupted in thousands of small geysers, hissing as they left her body.
“Oh no!” she panicked. “I’m falling apart! I’m breaking into pieces! Now I’ll be even uglier! All this dirt is flying off me, and soon there will be nothing left!” Panic seized her. She desperately tried to change course, to fly away from that scorching sphere, but the Sun’s invisible bond was stronger.
But then, in the midst of her despair, she noticed something wonderful. The gas and dust that escaped her, which she had considered dirt, did not get lost in the darkness. The Sun’s breath, a gentle solar wind, was pushing it away and shaping it behind her into a long, elegant arc. She looked behind her curiously and could not believe her own eyes.
Stretching out behind her was a magnificent, long tail. It glowed and shimmered with a thousand colors she had never seen before. Some parts were as azure as pure ice, others as golden as the finest dust illuminated by the Sun. The tail billowed and danced behind her like a majestic train, like a bride’s veil woven from starlight silk. It was far larger, more vibrant, and more brilliant than any star she had ever seen.
“Is… is that really me?” she whispered, stunned, a mix of awe and disbelief in her voice.
Suddenly, she understood. A feeling of relief and immense, profound joy washed over her. Her beauty was not hidden on a surface that could be polished. It was hidden deep within her, in her very essence. That “plain” ice and that “dirty” mix of dust and rock were not her flaws; they were her treasure. They were the essence of her uniqueness. They merely needed the right moment, the proximity and warmth of the Sun, to reveal themselves in their full, breathtaking glory.
Cora was no longer sad or lonely. She felt proud and beautiful. She flew around the Sun on her destined path, her magnificent tail shining behind her like a beacon in the darkness. As she passed a blue-green planet, she saw tiny, curious beings on its surface looking up at the sky, their faces filled with wonder as they pointed at her radiant beauty. Even the stars, which had once seemed so perfect and mocking, now looked different. They were still beautiful, but their beauty was static and cold. Her beauty was different—it was dynamic, alive, ever-changing. It was a beauty born of transformation.
She knew that when she moved away from the Sun again, into the cold depths of space, her tail would gradually disappear, and she would once more be just a quiet, dark pilgrim. But it no longer bothered her. She was not afraid of returning to the darkness. She knew her beauty had not vanished. It had merely settled back to sleep deep within her, patiently waiting for its moment to shine again and dazzle the universe with its dance.
And so Cora flew on, with a new, warm secret in her icy heart. She no longer compared herself to the stars. She understood that beauty has many forms. The beauty of a star is in its constancy, the beauty of a planet in its colors, and the beauty of a comet in its wondrous transformation. She knew that everything in the universe has its own place and its own unique way to shine.
What do you think, children? One evening, when the sky lights up with thousands of little lights, try to look up with your parents. Perhaps you will see twinkling stars, the silver Moon, and if you are very lucky, maybe even a comet with a magnificent tail, silently passing through our corner of the universe. And when you see it, remember Kora. Remember that the greatest beauty is often hidden deep within, waiting only for the right time and a little warmth to reveal itself to the whole world.