On a cold winter night, as was the custom with the little child who cuddled up next to me before sleep, my grandson asked me to tell him a story. He knew of stories of the forest lions roaring, of horses racing fast in the plains, of cars moving fast in the narrow lanes, of planes flying high in the skies and whistling trains.
He wanted to know the story of Light. Many questions came into my mind but I had no answers.
Who gave light its speed and where is it going in that speed? We know of only one giant burning ball called the Sun. But who controls its switch? My grandson asked. I told him that, when he grows big, he will know that God is seen as Light. He will know that Light stands for knowledge, wisdom, all that is good in life, in fact life itself.
And then I paused for a while to tell him to imagine his life without light. He cannot play outside, can’t go to school to sing songs, can’t see his friends and can’t do anything. I told him that Jesus says that our eyes are the Light of the body. He says that He is the Light of the world. Light means to look bright, shine without dirt and if dirt comes, then light should shine more than dirt.
The night comes to a close and we feel happy to see the morning and the Light that comes with it. Then , he asked me but who created the Light. The divine mystery was too much for me to understand let alone explain to the Child on the Creator’s games. I could see that the Child was about to enter into that innocent sleep. I paused to get an answer. In all the myriad activities of daily routines which blind us to live in darkness, it took a child to awaken the new Light that beckons us to think of the Light that controls us, before we fall asleep.