A Clear Flame

We lived then without electricity. We had kerosene lamps for light but no refrigerator. One day, a small refrigerator came in a wooden crate. Made for the tropics, it would burn kerosene to keep food cool. The less-than-helpful instructions said: “Steadfastly hold a candle beneath until within the burner a clear flame flourishes.” I vividly recall those instructions and recollect my father’s invective as he knelt and held candle after candle under that refrigerator, trying to get it started. Each candle burned to a nub and no flame flourished in the burner. My mother was so disappointed. My father, no mechanic, was crestfallen. He was an artist, a Dartmouth graduate in literature, brought low by something he did not understand, with instructions written in pidgin English.

Early one morning, a few days later, my father stood smiling by the little refrigerator. He showed me a lid from a tin can with a row of six, tiny candles. My father had cut them from a full candle, lit all six and placed them beneath the refrigerator where they burned steadfastly and, within minutes, a clear flame flourished.

Go in peace to love and serve The Lord!

Josh