The Light That Never Goes Out.

Once upon a time there was a small church at the foot of a mountain. There was no gold or marble in it, only wood and silence.

The priest who served it was already old. Every morning he lit the candle on the altar with the same gesture, and every evening he extinguished it with the same sigh.

The people of the village rarely went there anymore — some had moved far away, some preferred to seek miracles in the light of screens.

One evening a young boy entered the church.

– Why do you light the same candle every day? – he asked.

– After all, the next day it will go out anyway.

The old priest smiled:

– Because, my son, the light is not kept alive by the one who lights it, but by the one who sees it.

I only remind the world that the light is still here.

The boy thought about it, and the next morning he brought a candle himself.

The following week, a woman brought it, then the baker, the blacksmith, the teacher.

The church was filled with light again, but not from candles – but from the hearts of the people.

And then the old priest said:

– The Reformation does not begin when we say that we must change, but when we realize that we all carry the light.

Faith is not when you believe that God exists.

Faith is when you allow Him to shine through you.

Since then, the door of the little church has never been closed again.

Because whoever entered did not receive a teaching, but a mirror.

And in that mirror everyone saw the light within themselves.