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What July 7th Really Means — and Why It Might Matter More Than You Think
The Love Story in the Stars (and Why It Still Matters)
Do you have a partner, or a close friend from Japan or East Asia?
Then here’s something you should know before July 7: a story that’s been celebrated for over a thousand years across Japan. And if you casually ask someone out on this day, be careful—they might think you're about to confess your feelings or plan something romantic.
It’s called Tanabata (literally "Evening of the Seventh"). And yes, it’s a big deal.
The Celestial Weaver and the Cowherder
Long ago, in the sky, lived Orihime (織姫), a celestial weaver known for crafting robes so radiant they shimmered like light. But all she did was work. Alone. Tirelessly.
One day, longing for something different, she secretly descended from the heavens to Earth. But when she arrived, she realised she couldn’t find her way back.
Lost and unsure, she wandered — until she met Hikoboshi (彦星), a kind cowherder who offered her help and companionship.
They found joy in each other’s company, and soon, they fell in love. Too fast. So fast, they forgot about her duties, her return, and everything else. Orihime abandoned her weaving, and the heavens were left without their weaver.
Eventually, her father — the sky king Tentei — discovered what had happened. Furious that his daughter had neglected her work and defied the heavens for a man, he separated the two lovers. He placed the vast Milky Way between them and forbade them from seeing each other ever again.
Orihime was heartbroken. She cried for days. Her sorrow moved her father, and he finally agreed to a single compromise: Orihime and Hikoboshi could meet once a year — on the seventh day of the seventh month.
And so, on July 7, it’s said that a flock of magpies gathers to form a bridge across the Milky Way, just so the lovers can reunite. But if it rains, the magpies cannot fly, and the two must wait another year.
From Myth to Ritual: How Japan Celebrates Tanabata Today
Tanabata from China to Japan in the 8th century and has evolved into a poetic, heartfelt tradition.
Every year, people across Japan write their wishes on colourful paper strips called tanzaku and hang them on bamboo.
'I want more time with my family.'
'I hope someone’s doing okay.'
'I wish for courage.'
'I hope I can travel overseas.'
They're soft wishes. Honest ones. And just like the story behind Tanabata — they’re reminders that some things are worth waiting for, hoping for, and holding close to the heart.
Whether you’re familiar with the tradition or just hearing about it now, it’s a story that still resonates. Maybe because, deep down, we all want a reason to hope — and something to believe in, even just once a year.
If You’ve Ever Waited for Someone, This Story’s for You
Maybe you’re not into star myths.
Maybe you’ve never celebrated Tanabata.
But maybe, just maybe—you know what it feels like to wait for someone.
To care for someone you can’t always be near.
To believe in the kind of love (or friendship) that doesn’t rush, but stays.
If you’ve ever felt that:
This story’s for you.
The Subtle Art of Gifting for July 7
Tanabata isn’t a commercial holiday. There are no hashtags. No sales.
But that’s exactly why a gift around this time means more.
Young couples in Japan often plan a fancy dinner or watch fireworks after work. Some spend time together in nature or exchange meaningful gifts.
So, do you have someone who might be waiting?
Let this be your sign.
Grant yourself a bit of courage. Say something. Send something.
Before it’s too late.
