Silently a small figure sat shivering on the soft pine-covered earth tucked away from the wind in a grove of blue spruce.  His tear-filled eyes gazed out across a small meadow where remnants of snow from the last storm lingered. He opened his knapsack and took out the curved white candle and remembered the last words of his frail mother.  “Johnny, I love you so much.  I’m proud of you.  I want you to take this candle and keep it and remember—you are to be a light.  No matter what happens, you keep shining?  Promise?”

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