I lie still, feeling the vestiges of sleep slip off me. Warm air presses gently against my skin and the sweet smell of grass and dandelions tickles my nostrils. A chorus of crickets surrounds me and somewhere off in the distance to my right I can hear the lone bass of a bullfrog. 

 

“Wake, my child.”

 

I blink open my eyes, staring at the dark heavens above me. Stars sprinkle the sky, twinkling down at me like benevolent eyes. I press my hands to the soft grass, feeling the individual blades tickle my palms, and push myself upright. I am unafraid. This place is familiar to me, and yet, not. Our old farmhouse stands in the distance, welcoming light spilling through the windows. The dilapidated barn is behind me, awaiting demolition, and our metal swing set is to the left. But the proportions are different—everything seems much further apart. And the garage is missing, as well as the sandbox, for, where I lie, I should be cradled in the cold, gritty dirt. 

 

I lift my eyes to the sky again, feeling my gaze drawn there again as if by some unseen hand. The shimmering stars spin out, seeming to move closer, hurling towards me. And though I know I should feel fear, I am calm, because He is with me. One star hovers to the left, another to the right, and suddenly I realize they are not stars at all, but fireflies. I rise to my feet, eager to get closer.

 

“You must choose one,” He says. “Whichever one you wish. It is my gift to you.” 

 

I smile and take a step closer.

 

“But you must capture it,” He cautions me. “It will run from you, and the chase will not be easy, but I will be with you. You can give up at any time, but should you choose to persevere, I promise it shall one day be yours.”

 

A fire lit inside me, a corresponding glow to the blinks of light hovering before me. “Will it be worth it?”

 

“Oh, yes, my child. It will.”

 

My eyes scan the multitude before me and finally settle upon the one who most answers to my heart’s glow. As if it senses my interest, it suddenly zips forward, heading into the darkness beyond the yard. I dash forward, feeling the soft swish of grass give way to freshly tilled soil beneath my feet. I pursue it across fields and over hills, down paved and gravel roads, through forests so dense with vegetation they block out the stars. I climb jagged mountain peaks, and swim stormy seas. Sometimes fatigue drags at me. Sometimes fear makes me stumble. Sometimes I come so close to catching my firefly that I can feel the soft flutter of its wings on my fingertips. I consider giving up, more times that I can count—it is just too hard. But I always renew my resolve, running after it again with firmer resolve and more ingenious plans to capture it. Twice I become distracted by other fireflies, those that either seem more brilliant then mine or easier to catch, but I never veer from the path, even though such a course is not forbidden. I want this particular firefly, my firefly, and nothing is going to stop me from getting it.

 

And one night, as I pursue it through a field of waving wheat, my steps quicken just that extra bit more, and I anticipate the firefly’s zag, and clamp my hands around it. The clap of my palms springing together like a trap echoes across the sky. I stumble to a halt, staring down at my hands almost in shock. Warmth spreads through me, lightening my weary body with joy and excitement. And also gratitude. It overflows me, seeming to spill from every pore. I fall to my knees as tears trickle down my cheeks. “Thank you!” I gasp, my face split wide be a grin. “Thank you so much!”

 

“You are welcome, my child.” The tenderness of His voice caresses my skin like a soft breeze. “Now, come. Place your firefly in his new home, and protect him.”

 

Blinking through my tears, I lean forward and lovingly place the firefly in the glass jar on the ground before me. I twist the top shut, making certain there are enough holes in the lid for it to breathe. Then I rise to my feet and move toward home, hugging the jar tightly to my body. I feel electrified—light and energy seem to bounce around inside me. I am so happy that I simply cannot contain it. It comes spilling out of me as I laugh and dance and shout for joy. 

 

I leave the field of wheat and step onto the road where a man is doubled over, heaving for breath. He looks up at me as I move closer. “My firefly…” he mutters wearily, unable to finish the sentence. 

 

I cradle mine even closer and step forward to lay a hand on his arm. “You’ll catch it,” I promise him with all the certainty I can put in my voice.

 

He blinks up in to my eyes and I smile, wanting my happiness and confidence to spill over into him. Slowly, the corners of his lips curl upward and a light returns to his eyes. He nods and steps into the wheat, parting it like a curtain.

 

My firefly buzzes contentedly in its jar and I laugh to watch it dance. I strike off down the road, knowing there is unlimited joy to be found in my firefly, and many more pursuers to encourage in their quest.