The Lanterns We Carry

Every year, on the quiet hill outside town, families gather with paper lanterns in hand. The wind is soft, the sky painted with stars, and the silence holds stories older than words.

Among them is Lily, a young girl holding a lantern for her grandfather. He was a quiet man with warm hands and a voice that sounded like old songs. He used to tell her, “When you miss someone, just look at the stars. They’re the stories we leave behind.”

As Lily lets go of her lantern, it rises gently into the night—carrying her love, her memories, and everything she never got to say. Around her, hundreds of lanterns float upward, each one a glowing tribute to someone missed, someone cherished.

There are no tears tonight—only light.

For the souls who’ve gone before us are not lost.
They walk beside us in the wind, they whisper in the leaves, they shine in the quiet places of our hearts.

And as the lanterns drift higher, Lily whispers,
“You’re not gone. You’re just glowing in a different sky.”