It was an ancient forest, where moonlight filtered through tall trees, where silence sounded like music, making the dense nights serene. In that forest lived a tiny firefly named Lyra. She wasn’t like the other fireflies. While they blinked in perfect rhythm, her light flickered unevenly. Her fellow woodland companions would tease her about this. “Your timing is slightly off, Lyra”, or “Lyra’s got just one attractive feature, and that too isn’t working,” they would say with a smirk.

But Lyra didn’t mind. She loved wandering alone during the pleasant summer nights, dancing with the wind. She inspected parts of the forest that no one visited. She knew about the unique mushrooms that sprouted on the rotting logs and those small, grainy mounds where ants dwelled.

A lost fawn

One cool autumn night, the forest was foggy after torrential rains. The forest smelt lovely, the breeze extra soft. She was at her usual after-dark roaming when she spotted a cute little fawn, scared and shivering as though it had lost its way. His large, beautiful eyes darted here and there, trying to find a path that seemed to be smudged in the dark shadows.

A deep sense of empathy bloomed in Lyra’s heart. She glowed faintly and then a little brighter as she descended, suspended just in front of the fawn. “Hey, what happened? You look scared,” she chirped. At first, the fawn couldn’t hear her voice. But then it saw her; a tiny, blinking creature suspended in the air.

“Who are you? Did you just say something? I thought I heard something,” asked the fawn.

“Yeah, I did say something. Are you scared? Where’s your mother?”

The fawn whimpered. “I have lost my way. I don’t know where my mother is. We got separated. She asked me to stay at the pathway just outside the forest, but I couldn’t help frolicking and wandered away a little too far.”

“Oh dear, your mother must be so worried,” Lyra said.

“Yes. I should have listened to her.” Fat tears flowed from its lovely, large eyes.

Way to safety

“Oh, don’t worry, little one. I am a champion wanderer!” Lyra chuckled, her wings fluttering confidently. “Guess what? I know this forest like the back of my wings. I’ll show you the way. Let’s go!”

Lyra flew low and slow, weaving gently through the trees, her flickering light serving as a teeny-weeny lantern. “I know my light flickers, but it still works. Keep up with me. Don’t worry, I will guide you through,” Lyra tinkled.

Trembling, but hopeful, the fawn, followed her glow like a faithful disciple. Fear slowly faded from the fawn’s eyes, as they crossed the dark alleys. Hearing Lyra’s voice, the other fireflies emerged from various corners, perplexed at what Lyra was up to.

After a while, Lyra led the fawn to a small clearing outside the forest. Bright moonlight shone over it. “Here you are!” Lyra cried in happiness. There stood the doe, calling nervously. The fawn ran towards its mother, safe and sound. All because of a tiny creature whose light may have been dim, but who had a heart lit up with love.

“I can’t thank you enough, Lyra,” the fawn said.

“Oh, that was nothing. I love flying,” smiled Lyra.

Lyra hovered around the clearing, watching quietly as the deer left. As she turned back to return to the forest, she saw a bevy of fireflies coming towards her. One of them bowed to her and said, ‘Today your light saved a life! It doesn’t matter if it flickers unevenly. It shines when needed. We were utterly wrong to tease you. You are a glowing saviour!”