My name is Anne.
When I was six, I would walk up to the face of my window, so to watch the stars.

I would sing, then count along with my finger placed on the glass; drawing lines, and giving names to the stars.
I would do the same thing the next day, the next, and the next, until a day came.

My uncle took me to the face of my window, but I couldn't find a star.

I placed my hand on the glass; reminiscing the movement of my finger from the first day, to the next, and to the next, until it became a part of me.