Flicker was a very small firefly. Smaller than most, in fact. He worried his light wasn’t as bright as the other fireflies, and he often hid behind his father, Old Man Fitzwilliam, during the evening glow. Old Man Fitzwilliam had a wonderfully warm and steady light, and Flicker felt a little dim next to him.
One night, Flicker was especially worried. The annual Firefly Festival was tonight, where all the fireflies showed off their brightest glows. “Papa,” Flicker whispered, “I don’t think I should go. My light is too small. Everyone will laugh.”
Old Man Fitzwilliam gently scooped Flicker onto his back. “Laugh? Nonsense, little one. They won’t laugh. And even if they did, their laughter wouldn’t change a thing about how special you are.” He flew Flicker to a quiet meadow filled with glowing mushrooms.
“But Papa, your light is so strong and steady. Mine… it flickers. That’s why they call me Flicker!” Flicker said sadly. Old Man Fitzwilliam landed on a large mushroom and turned to face his son.
“Flicker,” he said, his light softening, “your light *does* flicker. It’s true. But that’s what makes it *yours*. It’s unique and beautiful. And it shows how much energy you have, always dancing and exploring! A steady light is good, but a flickering light is full of life.”
He continued, “Do you know why I love your flickering light so much? Because every time it shines, it reminds me of the first time I saw you, a tiny spark in the darkness. It reminds me of all your adventures, and all the joy you bring to my life.”
Flicker’s light began to glow a little brighter. He had never thought of his flickering as something special. He always thought it was a flaw.
Old Man Fitzwilliam smiled. “Come now,” he said. “Let’s go to the festival. And remember, your light doesn’t need to be the biggest to be important. It just needs to be *you*.”
At the festival, Flicker was nervous at first. But as he flew among the other fireflies, he realized something. Each light was different – some bright, some dim, some steady, some flickering. And they all looked beautiful together. He even saw a few fireflies trying to flicker like him!
Flicker flew beside his father, his little light shining as brightly as it could. He wasn’t worried about being small anymore. He knew his father loved him just the way he was, flickering light and all. And that was the brightest feeling of all.
As the festival wound down, Old Man Fitzwilliam carried Flicker home. “You were wonderful tonight, my little Flicker,” he said. Flicker snuggled close. “I love you, Papa,” he whispered. Old Man Fitzwilliam’s light glowed even warmer. “And I love you, my flickering little star.”