CELERY
When I was a child, I loved fireflies.
Their tiny lanterns seemed like living stars drifting close to earth — little sparks of heaven that made the night feel alive. I never imagined that, much later in life, one of these small lights would become a messenger of the Spirit to me.
A few years ago, while in Siargao, I had an opportunity to join a boat tour to see the fireflies. But my niece gently dissuaded me. She had gone before and said there were very few fireflies to see — that the experience was much better in Palawan. So I decided not to go.
Months later, I found myself in Palawan, and once again, a firefly tour was being offered. This time, my heart leapt at the chance. Yet my legs were weak, and I realized I couldn’t manage the small boat alone. None of my companions were interested in going, and so, once again, I let the moment pass — this time with a quiet sadness.
Still, the longing remained — not simply to see the fireflies, but to feel once more that childhood wonder, that spark of light in the dark.
Then the other evening as I was preparing to go to bed in Tagaytay, a single firefly appeared on my screen. It hovered there, glowing softly, as if it had come to visit me. I knew taking its picture would not come out well so I decided immediately to take a video from my mobile phone.
In that tender instant, I felt the Spirit speak to my heart:
“I have heard your longing. You need not travel far to find Me.”
I understood then that this small visitor was not just an insect — it was a gentle reminder of God’s presence: the Spirit who illumines from within, warms the heart, and comforts the soul in stillness.
The Creator did not send me a thousand fireflies over a river, but one light in the quiet of my room — enough to say, “I am here.”
That night, I realized that the Spirit often answers not with grandeur, but with simplicity — not in the crowd, but in the single flicker that finds us where we are.
I did not need a swarm of fireflies.
One was enough — because it carried the light of God.