Gazing at lightening bugs on a recent summer evening brought back a sweet memory

Firefly lamp memories create a trip to a summer weekend afternoon when I was six. There, one of three beloved great aunts dropped by for a visit, bringing gifts for my brother and me, which were two store bought firefly lamps. The gifts made my mother happy as she recalled summers when she and her daddy would create a firefly lamp using a mason jar with holes cut in the metal lid – creating a nighttime lamp for the bedside.

Our lamps were ready made. They had clear plastic containers with fat, bulbous bottoms, skinny necks, and a wide mouth on top. Their green plastic lids had slits instead of holes. They delighted my six-year-old taste in toys. 

Anticipation

Because Mama’s enthusiasm was contagious, we could hardly wait for sundown. Taking charge, she decided we children would take our nightly bath prior to supper. This way, as soon as it was dark, we had all the time between then and bedtime to collect fireflies.

After supper, we pulled grass to line the bottom of the lamps, added some sticks, leaves, and white clover flowers, all to give the fireflies a “natural environment.” The lightning bugs, with their slow graceful flights, were easy to catch. With wide, swift movements, they didn’t see us coming.

In a short amount of time, our lamps had plenty of fireflies to provide a sweet glow through the night. I wondered how I would ever fall asleep with this magical lamp flickering on my nightstand.

Sure enough, instead of even trying to fall asleep, I lay on my side to watch the fireflies dance in the lamp. All was peaceful and bright, when I noticed something.

A few of the fireflies found their way to the top where they saw the slits in the lid as an escape route. Well, a hopeful escape route anyway because they couldn’t slip through. Their little antenna peeked through the slits, followed by their heads, but they could not get their bodies through to escape. 

The lightning bugs hated the firefly lamps!

At first there were only a few trying to break free but then it was as if a call had gone out to the rest. They all swarmed to the top, struggling to escape!

My heart swelled and ached. Tears brimmed. Sitting up in bed, then frozen in place, I panicked on their behalf. Frightened by their distress, I watched their beauty turn to madness as they courageously fought for escape at the top of my beautiful lamp.

“Mama! They’re dying! Mama! Mama! They’re dying! We have to save them!”

She dashed in, the door swung open, light from the hall lighting half my room.

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re dying, Mama! They’re killing themselves! We have to save them! We have to set them free! Can we set them free?”

“’May’ we set them free?”

“May we set them free?!”

“Certainly, let’s take them outside.”

“Will you carry the jar? I’m scared.”

“Of course.”

The lamp safely in her hands, I unfroze and ran to the hallway. My brother and I nearly collided. What courage! He held his lamp in both hands even as his fireflies tried to escape. 

We both yelled, “Hurry!”

The three of us flew out the patio door into the dark and watched as Mama opened the lids of our firefly lamps, setting them free. Some flew off right away. Then she used her fingers to gently nudge the ones stuck in the lid back down and out so they could fly away too. No fireflies were harmed!

Sweet relief

And just like that, I went from firefly jailor and executioner to firefly savior. As the fear and panic subsided, my heart swelled with pride as a sense of peace and satisfaction settled in.  

“They’re happy now,” I said. “They’re safe.”

As we watched their lights flicker in the pitch black, Mama added, “When you write your thank you note to your great aunt tomorrow, you’re only going to tell her about much fun it was to catch them and how pretty they were in the jars. There is no need to hurt her feelings with how the fireflies struggled to break free. You understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

We went back to our bedrooms emotionally spent but fulfilled for having done the right thing. 

Sometimes a walk down memory lane, even over something as innocuous as firefly lamps, remind us of when we were strong and brave, even in moments that were full of fear and emotion. 

(Even as I’ve sat on the front porch tonight, after dark, working on this blog entry, a firefly settled first on the laptop keys and has now settled down on the screen. I reckon she’s attracted to the light. They certainly are magical creatures of summer. And I promise to shoo her away before I close the top!)