When we were kids, we’d capture fireflies in a jar, hoping to bring them inside to light up our rooms. Somehow it never worked. Fireflies aren’t meant to be captives. They’re meant to be free spirits, slipping through the evening shadows to bring delight to a child’s eyes for a fleeting moment before moving on to brighten up someone else’s darkness.
Little Georgia finished her work this afternoon and left us all richer for having known her.
It came to me that she and Adeline are like fireflies, sharing their light with us for an instant before fading into the twilight.
This hymn has been running through my thought all day:
Mother’s Evening Prayer
O gentle presence, peace and joy and pow’r;
O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour,
Thou Love that guards the nestling’s falt’ring flight!
Keep Thou my child on upward wing tonight.
Love is our refuge; only with mine eye
Can I behold the snare, the pit, the fall:
His habitation high is here, and nigh,
His arm encircles me, and mine, and all.
O make me glad for ev’ry scalding tear,
For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain!
Wait, and love more for ev’ry hate, and fear
No ill, since God is good, and loss is gain.
Beneath the shadow of His mighty wing;
In that sweet secret of the narrow way,
Seeking and finding, with the angels sing:
“Lo, I am with you alway,” — watch and pray.
No snare, no fowler, pestilence or pain;
No night drops down upon the troubled breast,
When heaven’s aftersmile earth’s teardrops gain,
And mother finds her home and heav’nly rest.
Godspeed, little fireflies. Thank you for sharing your beautiful light with us, if ever so briefly.