The old lighthouse stood tall and proud on the rocky cliff overlooking the sea. It had been guiding ships safely to shore for over a hundred years. Many a storm it had weathered, never once letting its beacon go dark.
The lighthouse keeper, an elderly gentleman named Walter, made his way slowly up the spiral staircase. His bones creaked and his knees ached, as they did every time he made this trek. After all these years though, Walter could have climbed these stairs in his sleep.
Reaching the top, he shuffled over to light the giant lantern. As he did every night, Walter meticulously cleaned the glass and fueled the flame. The light flickered to life, casting its glow out to sea. Walter nodded with satisfaction, as he always did when the light came on strong.
As Walter gazed out the window, something peculiar caught his eye. A shape moved in the inky blackness of night. He narrowed his eyes, straining to see through the darkness.
A small rowboat emerged, bobbing over the waves. Squinting, Walter could just barely make out a figure sitting in the boat. What in blazes was someone doing out there in a tiny boat in the middle of the night?
As the boat drew nearer, the figure became clearer. To Walter's shock, it was just a small child, a young boy. He rowed with all his might against the crashing waves.
Panic gripped Walter. The rocky shoals that surrounded the lighthouse were treacherous, especially in the dark. One wrong move could smash the boy's boat to bits on the rocks.
Frantically, Walter shone his lantern out the window towards the boy, hoping to signal him away from the rocks. The boy looked up at the light but kept rowing straight for the lighthouse.
"No, no, turn away!" Walter yelled out into the night.
It was no use. The boy couldn't possibly hear him over the wind and waves. Walter watched helplessly as the boat drew dangerously close to the rocks. He waved his arms over his head, desperate to warn the child.
Suddenly, a huge wave rose up, cresting over the boy's small boat. Walter gasped in horror as the boat capsized, tossing the child into the swirling sea.
Without thinking, Walter raced down the stairs as fast as his old legs could manage. He had to get to the boy somehow. Images of the lad being smashed against the rocks propelled Walter to move faster than he had in years.
Reaching the bottom, Walter plunged into the freezing water. He cried out from the cold but pressed onward. In the glowing light of the lighthouse he could just make out the boy struggling to stay afloat.
Mustering all his strength, Walter swam out and grabbed the child. He clutched the boy close to him as he fought against the powerful current. It felt like an eternity, but finally he made it back to shore.
Collapsing with exhaustion on the rocks, Walter checked frantically to make sure the boy was okay. To his relief, the child coughed up water but seemed otherwise unharmed.
As they sat there catching their breath, Walter asked "What in blazes were you doing out there, son?"
The boy looked up at him with large, solemn eyes. "I just wanted to see it up close," he replied in a hushed voice.
Walter gazed up at his lighthouse, its beacon once more shining brightly. He placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Yes it is beautiful, isn't it? But promise you won't go almost getting yourself killed just to see it again," Walter said with a gentle laugh.
The boy nodded and grinned sheepishly.
They sat there together on the rocks watching the light swirl and dance upon the waves. Though he was wet and freezing, Walter felt his old heart fill with warmth. His light had done its job tonight. It had brought this boy home.