The Half Candle and the Endless Dark Night

In a small, quiet village, there was a night that seemed longer than any night before. The sky was dark, and the stars were hidden behind thick clouds. The wind blew softly, carrying with it the sound of the trees shaking. The village houses were silent, their windows closed to keep out the cold.

In one of these small houses, a boy named Arin sat by a wooden table. His hands were cold, and his eyes were full of worry. In front of him stood a candle. It was only half a candle now, burned low from many nights of use. The flame was small, but it was the only light in the room. The rest of the house was covered in darkness, and outside, the night seemed endless.

Arin lived alone. His parents had gone away many months ago to find work in another town, and he was waiting for them to return. Every night, he lit the candle and sat by it, hoping that the next day they would come back. But so far, they had not returned.

This night felt different. It was colder, and the dark seemed deeper. The little flame of the candle flickered as if it too was afraid. Arin looked at it and whispered, “Please, don’t go out. I need your light.” The candle seemed to listen, as the flame grew a little stronger for a moment.

The hours passed slowly. The wind outside grew louder, and the trees knocked against the walls of the house. Arin felt lonely, but he tried to stay brave. He thought about his parents and how they would hold his hand when he was small. He thought about the warm meals his mother used to make. The memories kept him warm inside, even as the night grew colder.

Suddenly, a loud noise came from outside. It sounded like something had fallen. Arin’s heart beat fast. He stood up and went to the window. But all he could see was darkness. He could hear the wind, but nothing else. He went back to the table and looked at the candle. The flame was smaller now, and the wax had almost reached the bottom.

“I must find a way to make it through this night,” Arin said to himself. He put on his coat and picked up a small lantern, though it had no oil. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, he could find something outside that would help.

Arin opened the door. The cold air hit him like ice. He stepped outside and looked around. The village was quiet. All the other houses were dark, their people asleep or hiding from the cold. The wind carried small bits of snow that stung his face.

He began to walk. He walked past the houses, past the empty street, until he reached the edge of the village. There was a small forest there, where he and his friends used to play during the day. Now, it looked big and full of shadows. But Arin knew he had to keep going.

As he walked deeper into the trees, the wind seemed to stop. The forest was very still. The only sound was the soft crunch of his feet on the snow. Then he saw something strange. In the middle of the forest, there was a light. It was small, like his candle, but it was there. Arin felt hope rise in his heart. He walked toward the light.

When he reached it, he saw an old man sitting by a small fire. The man had a long gray beard and kind eyes. He looked at Arin and smiled. “What brings you here on such a cold night, young one?” he asked.

Arin told the man about his half candle, his long night, and his wish to see his parents again. The man listened and nodded. “You are brave to come out here,” he said. “Not many would leave their warm homes to face the dark night.”

Arin shook his head. “I had no choice. My candle is almost gone.”

The old man pointed to the fire. “Then sit by my fire. It will give you warmth and light. Sometimes, when the night is too dark, we must find the light of others to help us.”

Arin sat by the fire. The warmth felt good, and the fear in his heart grew smaller. The old man gave him a piece of bread, and Arin ate, feeling stronger. They sat in silence, watching the fire dance in the dark night.

Hours passed, and the sky slowly began to change. The black night turned to gray, and then to soft blue. The sun was rising at last. Arin felt joy in his heart. He had made it through the night.

The old man stood and said, “It is time for me to go. But remember, young one, even in the longest night, there is always a light somewhere. You just have to look for it.”

Arin thanked him, and the man walked away, disappearing between the trees. Arin went back to his house. The candle had burned out, but it no longer mattered. The sun was up, and the day had begun.

From that day, Arin was no longer afraid of the dark night. He knew that no matter how long or cold it was, there was always hope. And sometimes, when he felt lonely, he would look toward the forest, remembering the kind old man and the small fire that had helped him through the endless night.