Free the Fireflies

Summer always resurrects childhood memories of playing outside with friends until dusk and beyond. Many evenings, when the daylight began to fade, the soft glow of fireflies pulled us from whatever game we'd made up and shifted the activity to chasing the magical creatures.

To catch a firefly, we needed that ideal mixture of darkness and light: dark enough to zero in when one lit up but light enough to follow it once its glow faded. One night the fireflies were unusually dense. We scattered about the yard to capture them with gentle swipes of cupped hands. I bolted inside for an old jar with a lid, and after thirty minutes, the curved glass glowed with living treasure.

We gathered on the concrete steps behind my house to marvel at what we’d captured, lightning in a jar. Mesmerized, we ignored our curfews. At least until the neighborhood echoed with parents’ voices that cast a different kind of magic that made kids disappear one by one into the darkness.

When it was my turn, I brought the jar inside and displayed it on my dresser. Once bedtime came, I fell asleep to a special nightlight created by nature. When I woke the next morning, my excitement reignited seeing the jar. But it withered when I picked it up to see dead bugs at the bottom.

That morning, I learned a valuable lesson: Fireflies don’t thrive in jars. They need air and open space. They need freedom so kids can chase them into the night.

Isn’t it the same with the dreams we have? As we age, how many stuff those dreams in airtight jars and slide them on a shelf where they’re pretty to look at but will never survive?

Our dreams need open air and space to thrive. They must be lifted into the sky with cupped hands so they can take off and fly while we chase them to exotic destinations. They were never meant to be knick-knacks gathering dust on a crowded shelf where only we can see them.

Luckily, dreams are hardier than fireflies. No matter how much time has passed, find that jar, rip off the top, and set those dreams free.