The firefly and the old woman

"Don't worry, I'll make all your wishes come true," the firefly in the lamp whispered to the old woman bedridden with cold. "I'll stay with you until you forget about me."

The old woman cough. Her throat was dry. Her skin pale as white. Her body was burning. The winter storm outside raged on. There was no one in the cabin but the little girl and the firefly in the lamp.

"Will I see them again?" the old woman asked. All her friends have left her in the winter cabin. Before the storm they came looking for aid. For the old woman was frail and weak. They looked for help. But one by one, their search for aid were never bountiful. Worst yet, none that sought returned.

"You will," the firefly in the lamp said. Though it was lie. The firefly in the lamp knew what happened. And certainly he knew what will happen. "You will see them again."

His last sentence was not a lie. All her friends are gone. And soon, the firefly knew, she will meet them.

"Would you care for me to stop the snow?" the firefly in the lamp asked. "Or would you want a warmer light to comfort you?"

The old woman cough some more.

"I'm thirsty," the old woman said.

"Look beside you," the firefly in the lamp said. A glass warm milk appeared beside the little girl. "It has been there waiting for you to drink. You must've have forgotten about it."

The old woman reached out, took the glass and drank. She was refreshed.

"Are you hungry?"

"The milk was good enough," the old woman said. She tucked herself in her blanket. She felt a bit better. "I don't think I have any appetite to eat. I want to eat with everyone."

"Is there anything that you'd like?"

"Tell me a story," the old woman asked.

"A story?" the firefly in the lamp was startled. Wasn't there anything she wanted? A company? A better place? Warm food? Better clothes? Why a story?

"Tell me a story while we wait for everyone," the old woman said. "But if it's too much. I'm fine with the silence as well. The wind blowing outside is good enough for me. It tells me whatever is happening outside-"

"I'll tell you a story," the firefly in the lamp reluctantly said. "I hope I'm good enough for you."

The old woman smiled.

"I'm not good enough for the world," the old woman confessed. "But it has ever been so kind to me to make me feel content with everything it gives me. Good friends that I know will never come. A warm milk that was never there. And a magical firefly that keeps me company while I'm at death's door.

"If it would be too much. I'd rather hear your voice while I drift to sleep. I hope that will be fine for you," the old woman said as she closed her eyes.

The firefly started speaking of lies, truths, the world before, after and beyond. And everything to nothing he knew. But all his stories went to deaf ears. The storm outside raged on.