"Hilary always found it impossible to look at a candle flame and remain gloomy. The shape of it, like tapering hands held palm to palm in faithful prayer, the wavering yet hopeful fight against the darkness, its tiny loving glow of warmth. It was no wonder that Mother church, all down the ages, has had such a passion for lighting candles."
I remember going into one of the side chapels in a European cathedral and finding a stand holding many tea light candles. Not being Catholic, I hesitated to light any, but I overcame my reluctance and lit one for each of our five children saying a prayer for each child as their individual candle was lit. It was a reverent, touching moment for me, and I'm so glad I didn't listen to my fearful self.
In these long winter nights, I light candles throughout the house; ones that smell like the winter. Balsam, Pumpkin Spice, and Apple Vanilla. I do look forward to Spring coming but will miss the coziness of winter after all.
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