The Adventures of Starmonia ✝️🦋🇯​🇪​🇸​🇺​🇸​🔥

“Time is short,
Work is much,
Dedicate your life
To such and such.
That is what
This life is for,
‘Cause God is our
Mediator. . .”

The soft, sweet lyrics of Starmonia’s new song, “Mediator,” drifted through the castle hallways and into Meta Knight’s bedroom. He sat on his bed, listening to Starmonia’s reverberating, beautiful soprano. He thought about the song she was singing. The lyrics talked about how, though we are broken, God always heals us, no matter how down we are, and we should thank Him for His kindness.

Meta Knight folded his hands and bowed his head, wishing he could talk to God the same way Starmonia could, but he couldn’t. Maybe one day. . .

* * * * *

Tiff’s nimble fingers played over the keys as she smiled happily and began to sing at the top of her lungs, as loud as she dared:

“I could hear it in my head,
Like a voice I can’t forget
Louder with my every step
It kept calling me, cal―”

The song was cut off by a loud, angry voice roaring up from downstairs, “TIIIIIFF!”

The rhythmic tune of the piano ended on a harsh cacophany of keys being pounced upon, and abruptly the song stopped. Tiff stood up from the piano bench, crossed the floor, and flung open her bedroom door. “What do you want, Tuff?!” she yelled. “I was singing and you interrupted me!”

“You need to come down for dinner! I’ve been yelling at you for ages now!” Tuff retorted. “Hurry up!” He turned away, about to go into the dining room, but then turned back. “And stop playing that annoying song so loudly! That’s all I ever hear, day after day! I get you’ve got to practice it for the church’s Veteran Day service, but for real life, play it on your own time, pul-leeease, and thank you!” He slammed the dining room door and was gone.

Tiff rolled her eyes as she gathered up her sheet music. “Shows how much he knows,” she muttered. “I’m on my free time as of the moment.” She studied the papers she held for a brief moment. “Always Been You,” it read, “by Sarah Elizabeth Reeves.” Tiff frowned thoughtfully for a moment, recalling how, two weeks ago, she had been selected to learn this music for Veteran’s Day. She was an avid reader, quick to learn, and Mayor Len was sure she could learn it fast. “I know,” he had admitted to her that day in the church, “that you are indeed the smartest girl in this town, and perhaps the most bright. That is why I am tasking you with the job of learning this song.”

Tiff remembered how proud she had been to learn the song. With a deep sigh of contentment, she placed the sheets under her bed, smoothing out a wrinkle in one of the papers. She straightened up, walked out of the room, and closed the door behind her, locking the door as she did so.

* * * * *

“Mom?” Tiff inquired later that night when they were finished eating dinner and Tiff’s family had moved into the living room. “Can we talk?”

Lady Like, slim and pretty like her daughter, smiled. “Of course, my dear.” She patted the place on the sofa next to her. “Come sit down.”

Tiff obliged. “Now, what do you wish to talk about?” Lady Like asked.

Tiff spread her hands on her lap, her gaze not meeting her mother’s. “My question is this: How do you help others see the light of Christ?”

A puzzled look crinkled Lady Like’s brow, her purple eyes reflecting puzzlement. “What do you mean, honey?”

Tiff intertwined her fingers, feeling increasingly uncomfortable but determined to press on. “What I mean is,” she tried again, “how do you get through to someone who refuses to believe God is real, and living, and true?”

Lady Like’s befuddled expression gave way to one of sorrow and a slight hint of wonderment. “If this is about Sir Meta Knight, then tell me so,” she answered.

Tiff sighed, nodding. “You know me well.”

“And you know Sir Meta Knight well,” Lady Like answered in a serious tone. “You’ve been with him for years. He’s watched over you, loved you, defended you from danger and the horrors of this world. That’s love, Tiff.”

“I know,” Tiff confessed, “but somehow, Mom, I’m beginning to get a feeling I don’t know Meta Knight as well as I think I do. He acts. . .stranger than he did a few years ago. He doesn’t seem to be himself anymore, I guess is what I’m trying to say.” She looked up at Lady Like. “He has no hope. Is there no way to show it to him?”

“Sometimes those like Meta Knight have to find their own way to Christ, Tiffany,” Lady Like said. “Whether it be through a breakdown, a spiritual encounter, those kinds of people have to find their own way to Him.”

Tiff frowned. “I’ve seen him have breakdowns before,” she said softly, “and believe me, it is not pleasant.”

“Well, Tiff, look at it through his eyes,” Lady Like said. “He was abused, lost his friends in the army, and now Dedede is ill with cancer. He’s fighting a mental battle, sweetheart, and sometimes. . .” She pulled her daughter close. “Sometimes the best thing we can do is fight with them, even if we don’t fully understand what we’re fighting against.”

Tiff stared up at her mother, a light of amazement brightening her eyes. The autumn wind, no doubt bringing with it a storm, rattled the branches on the Japanese maple trees and blew the three-pointed leaves to different parts of the town. As she listened to the wind moaning and shrieking around the castle, she thought about what it must feel like for Meta Knight to be lost in the storm of his mind, desperate for help in pitting against his mental foes.

And surely, she thought with a light gasp, that was why Mayor Len was having her sing it for the church service on Veteran’s Day―to teach hope to all the veterans who suffered fighting for their planet.

But would the young girl succeed in communicating the message of Jesus Christ’s love to her war-scant, hurting friend?