“Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” – Buddha

 

Last night the lights went out, right at about 10:30 PM. It was old times all over again. We lit candles and were reminded of what it was like to sit around and talk. No TV! No Radio! No Laptop! Catherinanne wrapped presents by candlelight while we chatted away. Normally we might try and get off to bed, since there was no light and nothing to do. But somehow last night the forced darkness brought on a sense of nostalgia and a great need to story tell.

 

Dad warmed up at about 12:15 AM and went full throttle into all kinds of great stories about days gone by. It seemed that he had stories that would make us younglings cringe. I heard again, about studying by a small lamp(one of two they owned). I heard about walking in the dark from Whitbourne 21 miles after a 15 hr train ride home from the lumber woods when the war started. I heard about the blackouts during the war and keeping the windows blackened. The story was told again of walking in the dark out to Badger to see Joe Louis fight Max Schmeling – it was a 7 mile walk for a fight that lasted one minute and fifty-four seconds. We journeyed to Tom Roberts stage where we were told fisherman made light to work by with torches soaked in cod liver oil (remember in cod we trust – well we did … now its oil…I guess!). One story was followed by the next and Dad was enjoying every minute of it – so was I! It was hard to say goodnight. I hate to end a good story telling session.

 

Reflecting on it all this morning, I was reminded of Buddha’s words as quoted above. I believe that It is in telling the story that we pass on the light. We have all been very much moved and shaped by Dad’s stories. ‘Happiness is not diminished when it is shared.’ What is more, all of that story telling last night was happening at the foot of the cross. Atop the hillside behind our house Dad erected a lighted cross a few years back. It meant a lot to me then and it means a lot to me now. When we came home from Becky’s funeral on Saturday, there a a good kilometer or two away shone a great cross. Driving into the twon of Whiteway the Cross atop George’s hill greets you. It is a sign of light and hope. The cross is a powerful symbol that darkness has not had the last say. As we sat and chatted last night, by candle light, I was keenly away that just behind our home, above us was a cross. While the lights on it may have been temporarily dimmed, the light from it was overwhelming. The story of light over darkness continues to be real.

 

Dad is 92! He has shared his light with so many others – his light was not diminished in that shaing. The happiness that he shares has not decreased but only multiplied. I was praying this morning and Becky and Andrea were so much around me. They are two candles, who in 6 and 7 years shared happiness and shared the light of who they were and who God created them to be. It is amazing really how many lives they touched.

 

Who in your life has been a source of great light? Take a moment seek to take in and share in that light. It is a good turn of happiness – and it will not be diminished by sharing. Give thanks for the light in your life. And in your own way – share your light with others.