In a lovely garden, surrounded by tall green grass and tiny flowers, lived a little firefly named Lily. She was a happy firefly, always smiling and flitting about during the day. But at night, when her friends came out to play, she felt shy and hid among the daisies, for she could not sparkle and shine like they did.
Whenever a big, bright star came out to twinkle, all of fireflies used to dance in circles around their dear old friend. “Oh, how splendid you are!” they would say. “You are a firefly in the sky!”
At such times poor Lily grew very sad, for she wished to help her friends. So one night she came out when she thought all her friends should be at rest and crept to the foot of an old clock that kept “Tick - tock, tick - tock” all day long. Her constant wish just then was to have a tiny little light of her own, even a teenty-weeny one that she could call her lantern.
All at once it appeared to her! Oh, such a lovely red light! So faint, yet it lit her up throughout. Then what a pretty picture she made, as she swung to and fro at the bottom of the mobile foot of the clock! She forgot to be shy now and danced as cheerfully as ever. Oh! Why had she kept so quiet all this time?
“Do get in,” cried one of the bigger fireflies. “There’s a nice party this way, where there’s plenty of sweet honey. There’ll be a flower-light banquet this afternoon.”
On hearing this, Lily trembled with fear, for she had no friend to take care of her, and how would she find such a big banquet alone? “It will be all dark and lonely afterwards; no, no,” sighed Lily, “I would rather not go. Thank you all the same.”
Tears rolled down the little firefly’s face as her friends all flew away, but soon she dried her eyes again and sat on her little clock, singing to herself, until she knew the suet had opened.
Then the flowers took pity on poor Lily, and with a rustle and a shake of their stalks they called out, “Come up here my dear! You shall never, never spill again, only go on spinning silently, the whole night through, like a little child’s spinning top.”
That very night a strong light shone, everything grew white and ghastly cold, so that all the flowers and the trees shivered and shook.
“Well done for taking care of Lily, so bravely,” whispered the faint, ghostly sleep.
But by the soft touch of the flowerpetal, Lily awoke and hid herself in the little white hands. The big park-lanterns all swung open, for the feather-roots of the flowers rustled so thick yet trembling wreaths touched them all with tasty spirit-wine.
With white flowers’ net holding the soft light up, and leading side by side tired fireflies who had lost the way in the cold, this was a feast indeed! And as Lily flitted to and fro with eager hospitable intent, all failed not to notice the lovely lilac light shining softly around her.
“Why dear Lily,” asked one of the fireflies of her friends as they rose up together, “did we not know this? You shine splendidly!”
“I’m so happy today,” said Lily, “and you don’t mind my shadow under here?” And with that she held the folded flower-foot over her head like a palampore umbrella.
“Oh no, oh no!” replied the others, and this day she felt happier and stronger than before.
So every night when the pretty garden flowers opened, little Lily was always found sitting spinning her red lantern and crying, “No, no,” to all her friends who came to take her away after supper.
Thus she was there to receive all who were weary in the spectral light of the midnight sun, without harm to friend or to flower by careless resting on their dreary white petals.