It does not shine in the crowd, nor is it eye-catching in the square. It just stands quietly in a corner of the desk, a corner of the windowsill or under the soft light at the bedside. It is not noisy, but like an old friend who silently guards you, accompanying you to watch the starry sky in your heart on every ordinary day of yours.

It is a symbol of adventure, quietly reminding you to be brave, step out of familiar boundaries and pursue unknown possibilities. It is also a microcosm of dreams, silently telling you not to be bound by the ordinariness in front of you, because there is a bigger world waiting behind life.

Some people say that it continues the childhood dream, awakening the innocence and desire to become an astronaut when young; some people say that it is a signpost of life, reminding you not to forget to look up at the stars in the trivial days. No matter how it is interpreted, its existence always lights up your heart and adds a touch of moving brilliance to ordinary life.

It is not just a simple ornament, but a signal, a whispering reminder, don't let the busyness numb your perception, don't let the ordinary bury your original intention. No matter how ordinary the day is, remember to look up and see the sea in your heart.

So, when you are at your desk again, you might as well look up at this person. Maybe he or she doesn't say anything, but in silence he or she is conveying your little universe, and there are also endless stars waiting to be lit.