One Small Light

When I used to fly, I’d often find myself looking out the window at night thinking about the land below obscured by darkness. Every so often, once we left a large city far behind, I could just make out one solo light below. Barely strong enough to reach my eyes at thirty-thousand feet, I wondered about the lives that surrounded that light. As a snowstorm this past winter swirled about the single light on the farm where I now live, I suddenly realized I was the life near our light.