The Christmas Candle I am jostled from my nap. Has it been a year already? Darkness fades as my faded linen blankets are unwrapped. Almost reverantly (as it should be) she places me. Reunited with my brass base, my holder, my other half. It feels so connecting to be securely hugged once again. She looks older this year, my current lighter. But not too old, not yet. She has time. She says I seem shorter than she remembers, wonders who will outlast whom as she straightens me, rubs my skin red with her calloused thumb. I shrank but a minute! I feel a flare of temper, but then I sigh. This, this will be my one hundred and thirty-seventh brightening. She is only sixty-four. She can't understand. My heart beats to a different rhythem. My spine isn't bent, it stands straight and true. But then, the lighters come and go, mother to daughter over time. Still, I never know, one unwrapping to the next, who will unwrap me. When the lighter dims, another takes her place, her features similar, but different from the preceding ones. Connected still. I miss the ones from before. Each becomes a part of me. I cry waxen tears; hot, burning hot tears for those lights now gone. She doesn't know. Each bit of me that melts away are for them. I watch from my place centered where they hold the gathering. I can see their tree by the front window, real this year, covered in lights-- pale imitations of my brightness, my warmth. But then, I truly glow for but a moment, just long enough to bestow my blessing upon them. I watch as she wraps presents in stiff paper, places cloth ribboned bows on each. The coverings glitter and shine, but seems, to me, at least, cold and hard. I much prefer how she wraps me: in soft years past, linen calendars worn to silk from washing. Years fly by when I sleep; tis only now i live. IDoes she know I absorb her emotions? That my wax shines brightly polished by her words and dreams? That my flame grows brighter year to year, fed by love ongoing? They Gather. No one missing. A new young face, a new generation. It is time. Long-sticked match ignights me. I glow, sending my light out to encompass them all in my Christmas Blessing. For I am their light chasing away the darkness for another year. For sixty seconds I enfold them in brightness and tis reflected in their smiles. For one brief minute I light their way but it is all the time I need. Then with a puff of breath, my light is extingueshed, yet never really put out. For my blessing has been given and that light always shines. I reign here where they gather til the time comes and she will wrap me carefully and put me back in the trunk. Once again I have carried out my mission. I am content to rest, to gather my strength for the next time. for the next brightening. |