A firefly once hid deep in the grass. Each night he felt the small lantern inside him flicker, but he kep it dim. The night was already full of activity — crickets singing, frogs calling, owls hunting. What difference could one light make?

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One evening a field mouse asked the firefly why he never shone. “The night is already crowded,” the firefly replied. “My light would hardly matter.” The field mouse stepped closer. “Perhaps,” she said. “But the meadow is darker witout it.”

The firefly was quiet for a long while. At last he took a breath, rose into the air, and lit his lantern. He watched as a pale luna moth turned toward the light and found a place to rest, and he understood something he had not known until then. His light was not as small as he had believed.