Catching Lightning Bugs

When I was a little girl, Granddad and I spent many summer evenings together sipping lemonade and swinging back and forth on his vintage metal porch glider. On one such evening, I sat with him watching the sun sink lower in the Missouri sky. Then out of nowhere, a mysterious yellow twinkling appeared in the night, quick flickers and crackles of incandescent light moving too fast for the naked eye to see. The soft warm glow of lightning bugs sliced through the darkness, dipping beneath the black walnut trees. I was enchanted, imaging Granddad and I had discovered the lair of a great magician. “Want to catch some lightning bugs?” he asked, a smile spreading over his face. “Capture that magic?” My voice quivered with excitement. “Can it be done?” “Yes!” he said, leaping out of the swing and fetching a Mason jar from his work shed. Using an ice pick, he pierced its lid with tiny holes. He took my hand in his, and together we walked barefoot into the darkness, following the flickering lights. I let go of his hand and ran toward them hoping to capture them, but in my eagerness they escaped. Granddad cupped his hands and lunged. “Look!” he said, making a peep hole in his hand. With my face pressed against his thumbs, I caught my first close-up glimpse of a firefly. The jar soon grew full; when Granddad tucked me in that night, he placed it beside my bed. The glow of the lightning bugs mesmerized me; and long after everyone else was asleep, I was still wide awake watching the golden lights flare in the darkness. Now, so many years later, I’ve forgotten most of the dolls and toys of my childhood. But the night Granddad and I caught lightning bugs and made them into a nightlight is forever imprinted in me. There was so much ordinary magic dancing around Granddad’s backyard. we stand and stare, awed watching a field that twinkles fireflies pulsating fireflies are special incandescent messengers magic in the night firefly, help me hear your soft whispers in the night tell me life's secrets