Homesanctuary's "Today's small thing" reminder is that those candles on the Christmas decorations look a lot nicer if you actually light them.
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You simply must read this story.
how a small candle in a concentration camp brought light, and the darkness could not overcome it...
For the Light was shining in the darkness. And the darkness did not comprehend it. At the time you didn't reason it out, but that was what we felt, silent around that Christmas light, that white candle, that pointed flame.
There was something extraordinary about it. That candle was whiter and slimmer than I ever have seen since. And that flame -- it was a flame that reached to the sky, in which we saw Things that are not of this world. I will never be able to tell about it -- none of us will, who is still alive. That was a secret, a secret between the Christ child and ourselves. For at that time we were certain that It existed, that It lived among us and for us. We sang silently, we prayed without a word, and I have heard that bells started pealing and also a choir of angels sang. Yes, I am certain about this, and I have at least a hundred witnesses, though most of them cannot speak any longer. They are not here now; but that does not mean they would not know anymore.
Yonder, deep in the swamps and jungle, thin, angelic voices sang Christmas songs for us, and the bronze of a thousand bells resounded.
Where this all came from also remains a secret. That candle burned higher and higher, its flame growing more and more pointed until it reached the ridgepole of that high, dark shack and then went right through it up to the stars, and everything became white with light. So much light no one has ever seen since. And we felt ourselves free and lifted up, and did not know hunger any more. That candle had fed not only my friend and me, that candle had nourished and strengthened us all.
There was no end to the light. And when someone said softly: "Next Christmas home," we believed it this time unconditionally. For the light itself had brought us that message; it was written in fiery letters in that Christmas flame; whether you want to believe me or not, I saw it myself.
The candle kept burning all through the night. There is no candle in the whole world that can burn so long and so high. When morning came there were a few who sang, something that had not happened in years. That candle saved the lives of many of us. We then knew it was worthwhile to go on, that somewhere, at the end, for each one of us a Home was waiting.
And that was indeed the case.
Some returned home to Holland before the next Christmas; they think the candles on our Christmas trees are small, much too small. They have seen a larger light that still is burning. Most of the others went home also, before the next Christmas -- I myself helped lay them down in the earth behind our camp, in a dry spot between the swamps. But when they died their eyes were less dull than before. That was the light of that strange candle. The Light that the darkness had not comprehended.
(From Sunrise magazine, December 2004/January 2005; copyright © 2004 Theosophical University Press)
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and your musical interlude for today:
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