I have noticed that most of the Orthodox churches in the city have a large, covered hutch in the church courtyard. These hutches are a place where the faithful can stop and light a candle. Each candle represents a person's prayer--for someone, for something.
I like to watch the people as they light their candles. Old wizened grannies place their intentions alongside miniskirted cellphone wielding teenagers. One assumes God hears their prayers equally.
Tonight, as I was hurrying to my language class, I slowed my pace alongside the church gates and peered in. The hutch was empty. On my way home, I checked again, and saw a handful of candles had been lit. Viewed in the darkness and misty rain, the appeared to burn even brighter.
It is very moving to walk by at night and see the yellow flames flickering against the darkness. They evoke far deeper traditions, when fire was more than a fireplace accessory but a means of survival. While fireplaces have changed to radiators and central heat, the humble candle has never lost its significance.
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