Ray of Sunshine

It feels like weeks have passed since he stopped talking to me. And every day is a gray, endless drizzle. Everything feels muted, like I'm living in a black-and-white movie. Even the classroom feels strangely quiet.

 

The solar system poster feels like a cruel joke. How could I radiate warmth when my own heart is a frozen wasteland?

 

The recess bell shattered my melancholic reverie. My classmates erupted from the room, leaving me marooned in a sea of loneliness. I yearned to cease to exist altogether.

 

Then, my friend urged me to go outside. I hesitantly followed her out into the playground. The rain had subsided, and a sliver of sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating a puddle of water. 

 

I gazed at the rainbow that arched across the sky. And something shifted inside me—a flicker of hope. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps even in the darkest corners of my soul, seeds of beauty could still take root.

 

That day, I made a vow to myself. I would be a ray of sunshine. Not for others, but for my own weary soul. It wouldn't be easy, but I'll try. I would have to cultivate that inner light with compassion. Like coaxing a reluctant bloom from a wilting rose.

 

It's small things—offering a kind word to the shy boy in my class, sharing my lunch with a friend who forgot theirs, and finally mustering the courage to smile at him as he walked past. Because I know somewhere deep inside, the sun is still shining, waiting for me to let it in. Each act was planted in the barren soil of my sorrow. I feel a little brighter. A little warmer. Maybe being a ray of sunshine isn't about always being happy. But about choosing to shine even when the clouds try to cover you up. And as the sky is ablaze with the colors of the sunset, I know things are going to be okay.