The Lighthouse and the Little Boat

On a rocky headland stood an old lighthouse. It had been there for a hundred years. It had a white body, a red cap and a great big light on top. Every evening, when the sun went down, it lit its light and turned, and turned, and turned.

One night a terrible storm broke. Waves crashed against the rocks, the wind howled, the rain fell sideways. The lighthouse lit its light and looked out at the sea. Far away, among the waves, it saw a small light: a boat. A tiny red fishing boat. It had lost its way; it was being tossed to the right and to the left.

The lighthouse held its light on the boat. As if to say, "I am here." The boat saw the light and tried to turn toward it. But the waves were big. The boat was afraid.

The lighthouse switched its light off and on. One, two, three. As if to say, "Don't be afraid." The boat came a little closer.

The lighthouse slowly turned its light to the right. "Not that way, there are rocks. This way." The boat turned right. The waves grew smaller. A calm cove appeared in front of the boat.

The boat entered the cove. The waves stopped, the wind died down. The boat dropped anchor and rested. Its tiny red body rocked gently on the water.

The lighthouse turned its light back to the sea; there might be other boats. It turned all night. Toward morning the storm ended. When the sun came up, the lighthouse put out its light.

The little boat had woken up. It looked at the lighthouse. "Thank you," it said. "If it weren't for you..."

The lighthouse said, "I am always here. I have been here for a hundred years. I will be here for a hundred more. Whenever you are lost, look for my light."

You too, when you are afraid of something, when you are left in the dark, look for a light. There is always someone, somewhere, who has lit a light for you. Maybe a night lamp. Maybe a voice from the next room. Maybe this story.

The boat is rocking in the cove. The lighthouse is on watch. You sleep.