Candle

This story is about my huge 57-hour, 785 cm² wine red candle (I just had to calculate that). Its chunky black wick broke off a few days ago, leaving a sad little stump, which I feared would never light up again. But I was wrong.

Armed with a box full of terrible matches, I trudged about the room, creating my comfy and romantic winter atmosphere. One by one each little tea light started glowing, spreading its warmth in a little circle around itself. Then, in a burst of optimism, I held my lost-count-of-how-many-th match to the lonely stub of my massive candle, infusing it with hope.

There it was. A miniscule orange glow, flickering, wondering whether it would take the chance. I held my breath, trying to protect it from every possible thing that would discourage it, keep it from fighting. Then it started growing, slowly, starting to dance a little bit. It was safe! Though still small, the flame is growing by the minute, as the wax around it is starting to melt. It is getting more and more room to grow and regain its strength.

Dramatic, I know. Here is the lesson. I feel like that candle sometimes. I'm still glowing, but I'm wondering how my wick got so short, wondering where the big flame went. I feel like anything could blow out the little fire I have left. But it's still there, and l know that the wax is melting. There will be room to blaze again soon. And right now, it's okay if the flame is still a little smaller.