They sat for a long while before silence broke. She looked right, left, then put her fingers to her lips as she looked up with tears in her eyes, asking, "What are we?"
Sam controlled his emotion, breathed deeply and said, "We are wax, wick, and flame, made to burn and glow. Then we give up the light. We stand straight in shelter, dance in a draft or out in the open air. We will be remembered how we glowed, bright or dim, and, for some, we will not remembered at all. As for her, darling, we will always remember her vibrant dance and brilliant glow."
. . . . .