As December rolls over the northern prairies, twilight comes early, and the nights are long and cold. Occasionally, an "Alberta Clipper" sweeps out of the Northwest, the wolfwind howls at the doorway, and, in just a few hours, a blanket of snow covers the landscape. To the early settlers, as Christmas came closer and thoughts turned to far away family and friends, twilight brought on a special kind of loneliness. The lighting of a candle helped to dispel the gloom and encouraged thanks for the warmth and comfort of home.

So it was a hundred years ago with homesteaders living on the Minnesota and Dakota prairies. The simple candle served as a means of communication. As darkness approached, they looked across the land as lights appeared and disappeared. They placed a lighted candle in the window where it shown on the blowing snow outside. A lighted candle in a distant window signaled, "All is well at our house." A dark home indicated sickness, help needed, even death. Neighbors would plow through storm and snow to give what aid they could.

Another use of the window candle was to inform a passing wayfarer traveling in a strange land that he would be welcome to what warmth, food, and shelter for the night as could be provided.

Perhaps most of all the lighted candle gave the early settlers a feeling of togetherness. It kept alive the spirit for which they came to America, the promise of freedom, education, and a home of their own. With God's love shining as a candle, they could endure the hardships.

The lighted candle of our forefathers survived many dark nights, often flickering as if it would be extinguished, yet it never failed.

The candle was used until the kerosene lamp arrived which replaced the candle for those who could afford lamps. Oddly enough, the candle has survived the onslaught of oil lamps, gaslight, and electricity. Even now when a peaceful, romantic setting is desired, electric lights are lowered, and candles take over. At this Christmas time in my home, we shall light two candles.

One is in recognition of those courageous men and women of the Old Prairie who had the foresight to give us a guiding light through a candle. The other is to honor and remember the brave men and women who gave their lives in the recent tragedies in rural Pennsylvania, the Pentagon, and World Trade Center.

Lloyd E. Meyer became a Master Mason in Minnehaha Lodge No. 165 in Minneapolis, Minnesota, in 1955 and a Master of the Royal Secret in the Valley of Minneapolis in 1959. Brother Lloyd is now 101 years young.