Children of Langith

The Rabbit's Candlesticks

                                  (Taken from Matthew 6:24-34 - On Not Worrying about the Future)

It was quite a gloomy night in the old city of Langith, only a few household lights scattered across the city streets, numerous as the stars in the darkened sky, small and far apart, leaving the more quiet homes mystified in the shadows.

This was a sight worthy to go unnoticed and a little orphaned schoolgirl named Cresidia happened to caught a glimpse of the evening streets as she leaned at the windows leading towards the bell tower of her school at New Foundry Orphanage. Like the many houses abroad, there were no lights at the inner rooms or at the bell tower.

However, Cresidia held a small lit candlestick on her left hand and two other items tucked close to her. Sneaking towards creaking wooden floors of the building, so as not to awaken the sisters and manservants beneath her, she muzzled her way to the open view of the tower's ledge, finally nestling herself in a bag of gravel. In her hand, she placed the candlestick upright over the ledge, Hamish, her beloved rabbit by her side, and Mr. Snippens, held tightly to her stomach. The little orphan took a look at the gray town and reclined herself to the bag of gravel with a sigh.

"I am quite tiresome," said the little girl. Hamish hopped to her side and spoke with a soft voice, "Little one, little one. Why are thou tiresome?"

"Look at the houses, Hamish," sadness slowly seeping into her, "look how littlest the light. Doth like the starry sky."

Hamish hopped atop the ledged and sought the darkness throughout the city, "You are right, Cresidia. The moon has not given its light tonight and certain darkness has crept in."

As the little girl looked over the twinkling lights, suddenly, she caught sight of something. One of the houses with bright light was suddenly smitten afar and darkness filled the household. Soon another came down and a third. This lead to a feeling of dread for the orphan girl and she held to Mr. Snippens even more.

"Oh, what shall we do Hamish, there must be a plan." Cresidia pleaded.

The rabbit could only wonder for a moment of what to do. Then it dawned on the orphan girl. "I've got it!" she joyously alluded, "we shall warn them of the darkness."

The rabbit halted to his steps, "warn them? With what, my child?"

"The bell!" marvled Cresidia.

Hamish stood upright, looked at the enormous bell, and rebuked the little girl, "Nay, Cresidia, we canst warn them of the darkness, but they need light."

The little girl went back to her sorrow and slid deeper into the bag of gravel. "Doth no more hope for us, Hamish." she gazed at the half-melted candlestick, closed her eyes for a while, and tucked Mr. Snippens closer to her cheek. "How so I have you Mr. Snippens," she said to herself.

However, Hamish was not over with his vigorous thought and hopped back down to the lower room; down to the ceiling of the orphanage. Creaking the steps into sound noises that ringed through the orphan's ear. "Hamish, Hamish?" Cresidia whispered, "Hamish, what are ye doing?"

"Follow me child, I knowest how we can give light to all." He responded. Cresidia tip-toed downwards with Mr. Snippens still pressed against her chest and the melting candlestick on the other hand.

"Hamish, Hamish?" she whispered back again, "Where are thou?"

"Over here, little one." Whispered the rabbit. The girl swung to the path of the voice and lo, behold, atop the brown painted grandfather clock of long ago, stood the rabbit in an upright stature. His furnished white fur, reflecting that of the small fire held by the orphan girl. "I know a thought, but thou shall trust thee?"