Guest Article from glad2bawoman.comEach evening as the city settles down for the night, they come alive like little fireflies. We pass them, when, every time we take a bend down the street, we see the rows of houses on each side, their portals bathed in a warm glow. The ubiquitous porch lights. I wonder sometimes, have we ever thought that how much they are a part of our lives, an important one? Night after night, they shine, bathing our porches with a pool of warm light, somewhere waiting with the rest of the family for the tired and weary master of the house, somewhere, deep into the night, it waits with the anxious mother peering through her upstairs window for her errant son, and sometimes they add a magic glow around the couple saying goodbye, hurriedly on the steps, away from the eyes of the disapproving father! Their shaded light throws up eerie shadows around the garden, weaving a magical story for the little child sitting on the windowsill, in his own fairyland of giants and green elves and fairies dancing in the moonlight!! They are there, shining each night, catching the twinkle in the eyes of the new bride who with her diamond nosepin glittering by the light, flushed and rosy, steps into her new household. And sometimes you find them showing the way, as the bier is brought out with the matriarch of the family on her last journey. That night too it catches the light again, no not of her eyes, nor of the diamond nosepin, but on the tears of her loved ones. You find them around the gates of the numerous apartment houses, the light white and cold and aloof, reflecting the sentiments of the residents of the place, where neighbours don't even know their first names! Amidst them you may also find a old crumbling building, majestic still, which has somehow escaped the clutches of the builders, and there you will find the antique lead glass shade, through it's clusters of prisms the light throwing it's myriad hues, reminiscent of the aristocracy still. They are there every night, everywhere around this world, making us feel welcomed in their own unassuming silent way. What touches me is the way they are there, uncomplaining, never demanding nor expecting anything from this world, reminding me of people I know who gives unselfishly but never asks, not even for a smile. It's only for us to perceive, if only we knew how. The other night as I waited for my daughter to return, by the window, the little pool of light on the steps gave me a reassuring feeling. Did I ever notice it before?
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