The Strength of Faith

Elara found herself standing at the edge of a familiar worry. A storm had gathered over the village, not with thunder and lightning, but with hushed whispers and worried frowns. Old Farmer Giles’s prize pumpkin, the largest anyone had ever seen, had been mysteriously nibbled away overnight. Some said it was a mischievous fox, others a hungry badger, but the children, and even some of the grown-ups, spoke of darker, more uncertain things. Elara felt the old knot of “why?” tighten in her stomach. Why did such a beautiful pumpkin have to be ruined? Why did good things sometimes get damaged?

Her friends, Leo and Maya, stood beside her, their faces reflecting the same unease. Leo, usually so boisterous, kicked at a loose stone. “It’s not fair,” he mumbled, his voice quieter than usual. Maya, her brow furrowed, added, “Maybe it was just… bad luck.”

Elara wanted to agree, to retreat into the familiar comfort of simply accepting things. But the memory of that gentle, warm glow, the feeling of being held by an unseen, loving presence, was too strong. She remembered the words she'd learned, about El Shaddai, the Almighty, who loved her fiercely, no matter what. She remembered the feeling of that light within her, like a tiny candle that refused to be snuffed out.