This world is like a dark room. It would have been good at least to have a little candle. Its presence is surely and undoubtedly needed, though little it might be. Better than total darkness. An old candle is given. Kindled and placed on top of the table for all to see. Now there is light. And with the light comes the revealing of truth. The inside walls of the candle that once burn before are now seen with spots and tarred, it also caught dust from remaining extinguished for so long.
The little flame burns sheltered by the high walls. It burns as if into a little valley inside itself, forming a pond of melted wax. Think of it: for there to be light, the candle had to accept, yield, and submit to the flame. For those in the room to have light in the darkness – it accepted the flame. For them to have warmth for their cold hands – it keeps on yielding to the little flame inside.
For the sake of others, it submits to the fire.
At the same time, it is wasting away.
The more it yields to the flame, the more its walls melt. With that, comes a purification of the spots and tarred placed inside it that had accumulated and remained dirty for long. The fire burns and the walls melt, releasing the dirt. In order to be perfectly cleansed from all spots, the candle would have to further endure the heat of the flame. The more it burns, the more fervently she feels. Fire inside herself. It burns her.
But the candle yields to the flame and allows it to continually be inside her to give light and warmth, and to be cleansed as well. The candle thus expresses a sacrificial love. Burning, burning… until she is no more. Her love and fragrance remain in the air and in the contemplative minds of those who saw her light and felt her warmth. Tasted her fragrance as long as she remained with them.
That candle is your soul. The kindled flame is the Lord. As He burns and burns inside of you, as you consent to its heat and blazing melting power, at times so neatly inclined in one direction in the walls of your soul – the dirt on your soul melts away.
You are made pure.
Little flame in my heart and soul, your flame burns me more and more, yet without you, I turn wax cold, hard as stone. Little flame in my soul, breath your fire on me until you and I are no more. You and I will go away, leaving a sweet fragrance in the air. As you remain in me, I melt away, but better with you than without you O little flame in my soul. With you, there is light and warmth in this dark room. With you, there is peace in a soul and comfort to a mind set on gazing at you. So, burn, O little flame in my soul. Burn and become a torch to draw more and more souls to the warmth you give. I waste away, it’s true, but with you, life is worth being lived so.