morning by candlelight

Early on a November morning, I heard the hum of furnace and fan fade as strong winds took our power out. We were a few days away from turning our clocks back an hour, so I crept down the stairs into complete darkness. It didn't take long to get the wood stove rumbling away, and by the time my early-risers stepped into the kitchen, the candles and lamp were lit to cast their warm, beautiful light on two warm, beautiful little faces.

A spell is cast by candlelight, and their morning voices and play were hushed. They picked up their game of Camelot where they'd left off the night before, and were delighted to eat oatmeal cooked over the wood stove. Once again, they referred to Little House in the Big Woods (which we have now finished reading; we've moved on to Little House on the Prairie), musing on how much life stays the same for humans. We need warmth and light, food and family. Seated around the kitchen table in the soft glow of candlelight, we felt as isolated~and as complete~ as the Ingalls family. 

They love when the power goes out, and I have to admit, so do I.