Christmas Candle

When finally, the wick has burnt to the end, I cease to serve my purpose – that’s my deepest fear but it is inevitable. I am a Christmas Candle. I exist in a bright red cylindrical glass cup and from the description on the cardboard box I was packaged in, I apparently smell like ‘Holiday Cheer’ and I really hope that is what I spread when the humans light me up. I know it’s a little silly for me to think that my existence even matters because I am a mere candle…but I like to think that I have served my duty on this world when I have reached my wick’s end. Although it is a short 40 hours in the span of infinity, I hope I have lit up a small space in time for someone. That I have provided comfort, warmth, light and have eased someone’s mind while they stared at my flickering flame and inhaled the sweet scent I emit. That’s my purpose in this world and that is my deepest desire – to know that I have shared my light and warmth to others and that I felt fulfilled doing that.

“Get away from that candle, Alice” her mother warned. Alice backs away and steps down from the chair. She’s tired of her parents always telling her what to do. She was just curious to find out what this new Christmas Candle smelled like. Alice always had a curious sense of smell and wanted to smell everything for no apparent reason. She just wants to smell it to see if she liked it or not, but people think it’s weird. “Mum, what does this new candle smell like? I want to get to know it.” Her mother let out a light chuckle and shook her head, motioning towards the candle and to bring it closer to Alice, “Here, sniff away you silly goose.” Alice’s face lit up with excitement and she clapped her little hands together. She eagerly extends her neck out to take a good whiff of the candle. “Mmmmmm…” she savoured as she pondered how the Christmas Candle made her feel. “It feels sweet and warm, Mum. Just like you but extra cuddly…” the corners of her mouth formed an adorably cheeky smile. Her mother set the candle back down on the table and with a swift scoop, she pulled Alice up into a tight hug. “Extra cuddly huh? I’ll show you extra cuddly!!” They both chuckled heartily as Alice pretended to break free from her mother’s embrace. “What are you girls laughing about so early in the morning?” Alice’s father walks in the dining room, hair messy and voice still raspy. He wraps his arms tightly around them both and they all laugh at Alice who is struggling even harder to squeeze her way out. This is why I am here – for moments like this that seem to fade into insignificance but it’s the little moments that count, right?

“Luna, be careful!” Mum gasped. The darned cat almost knocked me off my table. Luna was slightly startled and quickly leaped off the table. She’s always getting into my personal space. I don’t get why the humans love her so much, she’s so oblivious and at times, mischievous. She’s a black cat with a white patch in the shape of a crescent moon on her chest and I hate to admit it, but she looks elegant and adorable at the same time. The humans love to cuddle and pet her, but she doesn’t even serve a purpose like mine. In contrary, the humans must serve her. Grooming, feeding, and making sure that she feels comfortable. And what’s worse is, I think she’s scheming to end me. Always getting up on the table and trying to knock me to the ground.

“Psst! Christmas Candle”, I hear a whisper from a distant. “I’m here! The Chipped Coffee Mug” This time I see it. The coffee mug was perched up on the second section of the corner kitchen shelf. It was an oatmeal-coloured ceramic mug with a brown base. It wasn’t all smooth and had some brown speckles and grooves that gave it a rustic look. It had a small chip on the rim and looked like it hadn’t been used in a while because of it. “Hey, don’t take it personally. I know what you’re feeling…don’t let the Cat’s worth diminish yours…” I was shocked to hear that from a coffee mug. “What do you mean?” I inquired. “I was once the object of her affection. I was her favourite Coffee Mug and she held me tightly every morning and enjoyed the quiet of the sunrise…and I felt like I was all she needed to be happy…” her voice drifted off and I could see her expression become solemn. “But when she discovered this chip, she hasn’t picked me up since. She even replaced me with that Sage Mug there. I guess that mug is pretty and was able to provide her with the same happiness I did…but it just doesn’t feel fair, you know? That used to be me, I used to able to bring her happiness every morning.” I don’t understand why this Chipped Coffee Mug is telling me all this.

“But,” the Chipped Coffee Mug continued, “as I was sitting here being useless…I had time to think…and I realised that it is okay. Even though I can’t serve my purpose anymore, I still can’t discount the times that I did provide her with the little joyful mornings. Sure, it may feel sad to see that she has moved on and found other things to make her happy…but that’s life, right? It moves on. It doesn’t mean we didn’t matter. We did. Think about all the things that came before us. They mattered, too. They served their purpose and then they disappeared, and we appeared. But the humans moved on and the world still moved on. But we mattered, regardless of how long or short it was…we mattered, even just for a moment. We served our purpose, and we should be satisfied and…proud,” she paused for a moment and the repeated, “We should be proud”, a tear rolled down and she formed a peaceful smile. “Thanks,” was all I managed to say. It was silent for a while as I was still processing all that emotion.

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I think that chip gives you more character. And thanks again, I really needed to hear that. I am grateful that you shared that with me even though it conjured up sad memories for you,” I meant every word I said. The Chipped Coffee Mug smiled, “Thanks for saying that about my chip. I was insecure about it for a long time. I think I needed to tell my story to someone for me to finally accept it. I am glad my experience can help relieve your unease – even if it’s just for a moment.” I pondered on this for a while, and I realised that we don’t lose our purpose after we cease to exist in this world. Our story can still affect people after we’re gone. We just need to tell it. We need to tell our story. No matter how insignificant we think it is. You never know who needs to hear it. There are so many people with different struggles. You truly never know how your story can help someone…even if it’s just to relieve them of unease for just a small moment. It’s the small moments, those little moments – good or bad, that make up a lifetime, right?