As often as everyone wanted to dance, nobody did. Couples, friends and children gathered at the end of the lake. It was moonlit. Something that was rare enough. The hints of silver bounced off the soft waters and no one said a word. Even the crickets paused to join the silence. Smiles danced through person to person as each pair of eyes were set on the horizon. Gazing out as the three wooden boats drifted in. Each boat was simple. With not a soul on board. Just boxes of all the same shade sat inside. Tied with the same bow. It was silver, like the moon. Everyone gathered into a line, stretching far onto the beach. The old willow trees came to shelter. You could look back through the night as everyone helped light the sky as they brought flame to the candle they were holding. A line that was never-ending, and candle light that never died. A brother and a sister stood at the front of the line. They looked the same as the boats, simple and wooden. They laid their candles in the waves that came to take them away, and they disappeared. Leaving the next in line to do the same. Though no one moved till the boats came to shore. Each person gently placed their candles above water, so the waves could enjoy them. They put them down and picked up a box. They weren’t big boxes, they were small to compare – each the same. One by one everyone followed the person ahead. Everyone left with three boxes that night. Everyone left with three of life’s treasures.
Written by: Alecia Writes