The Candle Keepar

The Candle Keeper"

In the heart of a misty valley stood a quiet village where time moved gently, like the rustle of wind through wheat fields. At the edge of this village lived Meera, an old woman with silver-threaded hair and eyes that had seen both sorrow and sunrise. Every evening, as the sun dipped behind the hills, she placed a single candle on the stone windowsill of her hut and lit it with great care.

“Why do you light this candle every night, Meera?” the children would ask.

She would smile, her face creasing like a well-read book, and reply, “So that any wanderer in darkness may find their way home.”

One stormy night, when the sky wept and the earth trembled with thunder, a young girl appeared at Meera’s doorstep—cold, lost, and frightened. Drawn by the flickering flame, she had followed the glow through the forest and found safety. Meera wrapped her in warmth, fed her simple stew, and let her sleep beneath thick, hand-woven blankets.

Days turned to weeks, and the girl stayed. Meera taught her the language of leaves and the power of silence. She shared stories etched in memory, lessons rooted in compassion, and skills passed down like heirlooms—how to heal wounds, read stars, and listen deeply.

Years later, when Meera's breath grew shallow and her candle burned low, the girl—now a young woman—held her hand.

“You gave me your flame,” she whispered, “and I will carry it forward.”

After Meera’s passing, the village noticed a quiet miracle. Candles began appearing in windows all across the valley—small lights of welcome, of guidance, of remembrance.

From one humble flame, a hundred lights were born.

Because knowledge, like a candle’s fire, does not fade when shared—it multiplies and warms the world.
------------------

When we have knowledge, we should allow others to light their candles from it