Just a little light...

For Christmas, my grandfather had a star. It was a large, wrought-iron frame about three to four feet tall/wide in the shape of a star with a single strand of lights on it. Every year, I knew it was Christmas because he would say "Guess it's time to put the star up". The house that they lived in had a balcony that he would put hang the star from so that when you drove up in the yard, that was the first thing you would see. When they moved from that house, he hung the star on the shed, outside, and it was on every year.

Now, my grandfather was not a poetic man. He didn't wax philosophical about life and its meaning. He didn't ponder the intricacies of the universe and debate Shakespeare with me. He only knew that Shakespeare wrote some things. My grandfather was a simple man but his ideas were anything but simple.

When I was young, I was told never to go out on the balcony - so, of course, I did. The balcony was about the width of a doorframe and about five feet out from the house with a railing that wouldn't stop a strong gust of wind. It was patched with tin and had some weak spots in it's wooden construction. It gave, in several spaces, with me, just enough to scare me into not going back out on it.

One year, when my grandfather made the trek out on that dangerous balcony to put up the star, I asked him, from the safety of the doorway, mind you, why he risked falling through the balcony just to put the star up.

"Sometimes people need a little light to find their way," He said to me.

I wrote that down. At 12 years old, my grandfather made such a powerful impression on me that I wrote down what he said. My grandfather passed away a few years ago and it's not been the same not seeing that star. I don't put up a star but every year, when I DO put up Christmas lights, I always have one strand of clear, white lights.

Sometimes people need a little light to find their way.