“Rainy Days, Windy Days, and Rainy Days”

“Rainy Days, Windy Days, and Rainy Days”

In a small port town, Emma often thought of her grandfather, the lighthouse keeper. He always said:

“Rainy days, windy days—you must never let the light go out. It’s the hope for those lost at sea.”

After her grandfather passed, the lighthouse stood silent, rusted, and forgotten. Yet, on stormy nights, Emma climbed the spiraling stairs alone. Each time she lit the old, weathered lamp, it felt as though her grandfather’s voice came alive, flickering softly in her heart.

One night, during a fierce storm, a stranger burst into the lighthouse. His clothes were soaked, his face pale with exhaustion. “I saw the light… If it hadn’t been there, I’d have lost my ship,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he collapsed onto the floor.

Emma’s chest ached with emotion. The light her grandfather had tended so carefully was still saving lives. Rainy days, windy days—through it all, the light kept shining, just as her grandfather had taught her.

From that night on, whenever storms came, Emma climbed those stairs without fail. She lit the lamp, unseen and unacknowledged. But that didn’t matter. Knowing that the light might guide someone to safety was enough for her.

Over time, the townsfolk began to notice the lighthouse’s glow. “Who’s been lighting it?” they wondered aloud. Slowly, the town came together, protecting the light that had become their shared hope.

Rainy days, windy days, and rainy days again—the light never went out. It stood as a symbol of hope for the town, and in Emma’s heart, it burned brightly, accompanied by her grandfather’s enduring voice.