Join the Circle of Light

The candle caught flame, and the room felt suddenly alive. The flame flickered, shadows leaped across the walls, as if they had started to play.

“Oh!” May laughed. “Look — it’s dancing!”

“That means it likes it here,” SteFun said.

May set the candle straight and leaned in a little closer, speaking the way people do when they’re about to share a favorite secret.

“You know,” she said, “candles have a very ancient story. Much older than Christmas. Long before books, Christmas trees, or calendars, people were already trying to catch the light and keep it close.”

She bent nearer to the flame.

“In Ancient Egypt, the first lamps were made from reeds soaked in animal fat. They burned unevenly and smoked, but they gave people the most important thing — light after sunset. Later, the Romans found a better way. They dipped papyrus into wax, creating the first true candles. These were used in homes, temples, festivals, and important ceremonies.”

“So candles existed before Christmas?” Al asked in surprise.

“Long before,” May nodded. “People have always been afraid of darkness — and always searching for a way to make peace with it.”

“Like a tiny sun,” Sofai said.

“Exactly!” May smiled. “And in winter, that mattered most of all. During Yule, people lit great bonfires to help the sun find its way back. Over time, the fire grew smaller and moved indoors. That’s how candles appeared — so the light could stay close.”

The flame shivered again.

“Eventually, every candle gained its own meaning,” May went on.

“Take the Advent wreath, for example. It’s made from evergreen branches — a sign of life that doesn’t disappear in winter. One candle is lit each week. The light slowly grows and so does the waiting.”

“Like a countdown to the holiday!” Al said.

“Yes,” May smiled. “And even earlier, people placed real candles directly on Christmas trees.”

“That’s dangerous!” Al gasped.

“Very,” May laughed. “But they did it anyway. The tree stood for life, and the candles were stars. Together, they reminded people that even in the darkest night, the sky remains full of light.”

SteFun glanced toward the window.

“Why do people sometimes put candles on windowsills?”

“That’s an old tradition,” May answered. “Candles in windows meant: light is welcome here.
Sometimes they guided travelers so they wouldn’t lose their way.
Sometimes they simply shared warmth with the street outside.”

The candle crackled softly.

“Candles also had to learn how to behave,” May added. “At first, they smoked and smelled of soot. For centuries, people changed their shapes, wicks, and materials — all to make the flame cleaner and calmer.”

“And then?” Al asked.

“Then, in the nineteenth century, paraffin candles appeared,” May said. “They were easy to make and inexpensive. Candles stopped being a luxury. Light became something everyone could have.”

She looked at the small flame.

“And here’s the interesting part,” she said. “The shape, the materials, the technology — everything changed. But the meaning stayed the same.”

“Light against darkness?” Sofai guessed.

“Yes,” May nodded. “And light for one another.”

SteFun held his hand closer to the flame.

“It’s really small,” he said, “but it shines for everyone.”

“That’s the whole secret,” May smiled. “A candle doesn’t choose. It simply burns.”

The flame flickered, as if agreeing.

“That’s why candles became part of Yule, Christmas, and the New Year,” May said.“Because people realized winter is easier when there are many little lights around.”

“Let’s light another one!” Al suggested.

“Of course,” May said.

✨If you lit a Christmas candle today — who would you show its light to first?✨