Citlali drifts from the emerald valleys and sun-washed temples of ancient Anáhuac, carrying in its five bright syllables the Nahuatl word for “star,” and, like a lantern hung in the velvet night, it has guided countless families toward dreams of radiance and renewal; she is a name that feels as though it were etched across the Milky Way in liquid silver, evoking the cosmic reverence of the Mexica who once mapped the heavens to honor both gods and harvests, and even today, as her gentle consonants cross playgrounds from Oaxaca to Omaha, Citlali seems to gather constellations around her—promise, wonder, resilience—each twinkling in concert with a quiet legacy of sky-gazing ancestors and with modern parents who glimpse, in that ancient sparkle, a future child whose spirit will rise like dawn over the Sierra Madre, showering light on everyone fortunate enough to stand within her widening orbit.