Candle Stub

It was a burnt out candle stub that lay among those precious memory mementos. The forlorn look of the candle stub couldn't be dismissed. Yet, if you ask the stub how it came about as precious, it will narrate a story of a long wait. 

When Rose held her as a prayer during the church feast procession for John's quicker return from his distant expedition. 

The candle remained in her soft hands all throughout the procession while the procession trailed through the open grain fields, the breezy school ground, and the cracker lit sky across oomen uncle's bungalow. Rose's prayer was alive and shimmering like the glow of a candle. 

If God had watched that feast procession he would not have heard the rhythm of the chenda neither the colorfully lit skies. The silk and golden dressed trail of devotees would not have passed a mention of notice, neither the songs of devotions made a hiss in his ears. What caught God's attention that day was that little candle stub that glowed steadily behind Rose's cowered hands and Rose's gentle prayer perfumed with love and affection. 

Rose kept the candle glowing till the end of the procession although her sari bore the brunts of the candle wax.  

Within few weeks John returned and they were together again. The candle stub was not forsaken. It was kept in a purse of the memento bank as a sweet remembrance of a love filled prayer.