#CandlelightConversations

[harmonyhealinghub]

Grateful by Candlelight Shaina Tranquilino November 10, 2024

The Hollows were a typical tech-savvy family. Their lives revolved around screens—Dad was always on his laptop, Mom scrolling on her phone, and the kids, Mia and Oliver, forever lost in their tablets. Dinners were quiet affairs, with the glow of devices lighting up their faces more than the laughter they used to share. One Friday evening, as the autumn winds howled outside and the sun dipped below the horizon, the house suddenly plunged into darkness. The power was out. For a few moments, everyone stayed frozen, staring at their darkened screens.

"Mom! My game! I was about to win!" Oliver groaned, his voice breaking the silence.

"I have a work call in twenty minutes," Dad mumbled, tapping his laptop screen as if it would magically turn back on.

Mom sighed, reaching for her phone. "No signal. We’re stuck."

Just then, Mia, the oldest, found an old candle in the cupboard. She lit it, and a small, warm glow filled the room. Shadows danced across their faces, softening the usual lines of stress. They gathered around the flame, a strange kind of excitement flickering in their eyes.

"Well, since there’s no internet," Mom said, "let’s just… talk?"

Everyone looked around, a little unsure, but no one reached for their devices.

"What’s one thing you’re grateful for?" Mia suggested, thinking back to an exercise her teacher had taught them in class.

They all looked at each other, surprised by the idea.

"Um… I guess I’m grateful for… well, this break," Dad started, setting his laptop aside. "Maybe I’m too attached to that thing."

"Agreed!" Oliver laughed. "I’m grateful that we finally have time to, you know, hang out. Without screens."

One by one, each family member shared something they were thankful for: a good grade, a fun weekend at the lake, even little things, like warm blankets and rainy days.

Soon, the room filled with laughter and stories. They talked about old memories and new dreams, things that had gotten buried beneath their busy, plugged-in lives. Mia shared a funny story about her friends, and Oliver told a dramatic version of his soccer game. Mom laughed until her sides hurt, and Dad leaned back, his face relaxed and open, free from the usual glow of his screen.

As the hours passed, the candle burned lower, its light casting a gentle, flickering warmth over them. They weren’t sure when the power would return, but they found themselves hoping it wouldn’t—at least, not for a while.

That night, as they lay in bed, the Hollows felt different. A little closer. A little lighter. And for the first time in a long time, they were grateful—not for things they could touch or scroll through, but for the simple, quiet company of each other.

[sierrareading]

The 2nd to my candle light candle conversation series. New moon intentions with the community of @eighthandpine that took place in November. #candlelightconversation #oaklandart (at 8th and Pine)