⏱ ~4 min reading
Olesya was afraid of the dark. Very, very much so. Especially when her dad forgot to turn on the nightlight in her room, and she was too embarrassed to remind him — she said, "I'm big, I'm seven now.".
That summer evening, the nightlight burned out, as if by accident. Dad said, «I’ll buy a new bulb tomorrow, daughter, just be patient.» And Mom kissed her on the forehead and promised to leave the door to the hallway open.
But the door wasn't much help. Mom soon turned off the lights in the hallway, too. And the room became dark. Not completely black—the distant streetlights glowed outside the window—but dark. Really dark.
Olesya crawled under the covers with her head. Her heart was pounding. In the darkness, the room became strange. The closet seemed as big as a tower. The chair with the robe thrown over it looked as if someone hunchbacked was standing there waiting. Even the dolls on the shelf looked different—not the same as during the day.
"I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid," Olesya whispered.
But she didn't come out very convincing.
And then, amidst this fear, something suddenly lit up.
Olesya cautiously peeked out from under the blanket. A tiny, tiny yellow-green dot was glowing on the windowsill. It flashed and dimmed, flashed and dimmed, as if someone was breathing warm light.
The girl froze. The little thing slowly lifted off the windowsill and floated through the air. She crossed the room, carefully flew around the chandelier, and landed directly on the blanket—on the part of it that covered Olesya's legs.
It was a firefly.
A tiny bug with a shiny belly, as if someone had shone a tiny flashlight inside it. It moved its thin antennae and looked at the girl with its black beady eyes.
"Hello," Olesya whispered. It was impossible to be afraid of a firefly. It was too small and too bright.
The firefly made a ringing sound with its wings. Olesya thought she heard:
— Good evening. I'm Zhmetyk. I flew in through the open window.
— Can you speak?
"Of course. All fireflies can talk, but only quietly. Only those who are silent and listen carefully can hear us.".
Olesya settled down more comfortably. She was still a little afraid of the dark, but Zhmetyk's presence made the room less scary.
“Why did you fly here?” she asked.
"I heard someone here is afraid," answered the firefly. "We fireflies feel fear like mosquitoes feel sweets. Only instead of biting, we shine. That's our job.".
— Aren't you afraid of the dark?
Zhmetyk laughed out loud - softly, like a bell:
"Darkness? But I love it! If it weren't for the darkness, no one would see me. Without it, I'm just a little brown bug. With it, I'm a star.".
Olesya thought about it. She had never looked at the darkness from this side.
"So the darkness isn't bad?"
— No. Darkness is just… quiet. It makes all the fireflies work and the stars shine. During the day, when it’s light, the stars hide. But at night, you can count them. Darkness is like a big soft velvet cloak, on which everything beautiful is visible.
The girl cautiously extended her finger. The little bug crawled onto it—its paws were as light as fluff.
“Are you staying today?” Olesya asked.
— I'll stay. I'll be your nightlight. Free. And alive. I'll shine until morning.
Olesya carefully carried Zhmetyk to the windowsill and placed a small glass jar of jam next to it - without a lid, so that he could fly out whenever he wanted. Zhmetyk crawled in, sat down, and turned on the light. The room was filled with warm, soft light - not harsh, like a light bulb, but lively and slightly flickering.
The girl lay down. The shadows around her looked completely different now. The wardrobe became a wardrobe again. The chair a chair. The dolls dolls. And the darkness outside the window even seemed beautiful: stars really sparkled in it, which she had never noticed during the day.
"Thank you, Zhmetyk," Olesya whispered.
"Sleep," the firefly replied. "I'm here.".
In the morning, Zhmetyk flew into the grass in the yard. But they agreed that he would come to Olesya whenever she was scared. And from then on, the darkness for the girl became not scary, but simply night. The kind in which the stars shine and small, kind lights live.
✨ What we fear sometimes turns out to be our friend ✨