Glimmer and Remembrance

Photo by Taylor Burnfield on Unsplash

   The sun was setting in the horizon, the air was cool, and the distant sound of crickets were growing. It was time to go home but my Grandfather insisted that we need to make a stop. He took my little hand, and we walked side by side on the lonely dusty road.

            “Ama, where are we going?” I asked impatiently looking up at my Grandfather.

He did not answer but I felt his grip tightened and that prompted me to walk faster. I could feel the dust and pebbles rolling under my feet as my old rubber flip flops make weird squishy noises.

            “Ama, where are we going?!” I asked louder, now with my whiny voice.

 “We are near now. It’s a secret place I want to show you.”

Photo by khaled hosain on Unsplash

He looked up ahead and kept walking. The last rays of golden sunshine disappeared in the sky and shadows have grown everywhere. The rice paddies across the road looked somewhat sombre and desolate, except for a couple of birds swooping here and there and frogs croaking in intervals. My Grandfather let go of my hand and he made a sharp turn to an off beaten path where copes of trees stood. He quickly brushed aside the tall shrubs and undergrowth blocking his pathway. My Grandfather gave a quick nod, prodding me to follow him. I stood at the edge of the trees, afraid to take another step as if I am stepping into another world. But knowing that my Grandfather was within reach I followed him in haste; grass and dried twigs brushing my grimy feet. I watched him plod forward while removing vines and more shrubs along our way, until he stopped and turned to me.

            “Come and see this,” he said softly.

He reached for my hand and led me to a clearing. Amidst the darkness, all my uneasiness and trepidation melted away. In front of us stood a crooked tree with all its dried branches jutting out in all directions with not a single leaf to save it. But in that precise moment, it was an extraordinary tree because divine light has enveloped it. Soft glittering light surrounded the tree, filling all its nooks and crannies. Each single branch glimmered and glowed in unearthly light. I was transfixed with what I saw, my mouth gaping open. My mind trying to comprehend this magical phenomenon occurring in front of me.

“It’s home to the fireflies,” whispered my Grandfather, while pointing to the countless specks of light flickering in the air.

“Fireflies,” I murmured.

Photo by Tony Phan on Unsplash

I was only four then, and Ama is not here anymore, but that was the most cherished memory he left behind.