Precious Vessel

Melanie peered deeply into the little clay lamp that was cradled in her tiny hands. “Oh, no!”

“What’s wrong, Melie? Don’t you like the gift Grandma sent you?” Mother asked with concern.

“Oh, yes, I like it a lot. It’s just…,” Melanie motioned for Mother to come closer so she could whisper in her ear. “There’s no oil in my lamp. I don’t want to be foolish.”

“We definitely don’t want to be foolish,” Mother answered in a hushed voice, “What should we do?”

“Get some oil!” Melanie exclaimed out loud.

“Okay, then!” Mother said, leading Melanie by the hand into the kitchen. Mother stood on her small step stool and reached for the big gallon can of olive oil that stood on the shelf above the cupboards.

Melanie eagerly placed her little lamp on the counter and held it still for Mother to fill.

“Before I fill your lamp,” Mother warned, “you must promise me that you will never, ever light the lamp by yourself. Promise?” Mother asked.

“I promise, Mommy! I don’t play with matches ’cause I don’t ever want to get burned like Uncle Rick did when he was little.”

Mother winced with the memory of the agony her brother had gone through after he had been burned while playing with matches as a child.

“That’s good, because I don’t ever want to see anyone I love to go through all that pain and anguish again,” she said softly before filling the little vessel with oil.

“There, your lamp is filled,” Mother stated. “Now are you prepared, Melie?” she asked.

“Hmm,” Melanie thought for a moment, “I don’t think I am, but my lamp is!” she concluded.

“You’re pretty smart for one so small. You know there’s a lot to learn and do in order for us to be prepared for Jesus’ return. Like reading our scriptures, attending our Church meetings …”

“And saying our prayers,” Melanie enthusiastically added.

“And saying our prayers,” Mother agreed. Mother then struck the match and placed it against the cotton wick.

“Turn off the lights, Mommy,” Melanie pleaded.

Mother flipped the light switch off and the light from the little oil lamp glowed in the darkness.

Melanie placed her chin down on the counter near the lamp. “Oh, look how pretty it is, Mommy!” She exclaimed with gleaming eyes as she watched the little flame dance.

The heavenly glow emanating from the flame cast a soft halo above Melanie’s angel face.

“Beautiful indeed,” Mother said in awe.

Then while taking in the majestic scene, Mother silently prayed, Dear Heavenly Father, please help me fill this precious vessel with the spiritual oil of preparedness she will need for thy Son’s return…

by Margie Nauta Lee