Broken Lens

"Almost there," he said while giving her hand a little tug, "You can do it, I have faith in you."

"I thought you said I would love this," she said as they reached the viewing deck of the lighthouse, "you didn't tell me you wanted to make my legs fall off. One hundred and Five steps of torture and you are not even breathing hard."

"What," he said as he hunched his shoulder at her playful punch on the arm, "You made it and you have to admit, the view is incredible."

They watched the beam of light swoop across the landscape as it rotated behind them.

"It really is peaceful up here," she said after they had stood in silence for a long while, "peaceful and powerful."

"What do you mean," he asked, "peaceful and powerful."

"It is peaceful to look at the night from such a high perch," she said softly, "Powerful knowing that the light that is shining has helped save sailor's lives, the lighthouse itself has withstood hurricanes and has overcome other disasters."

He stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her chest, and kissed her neck.

She sighed in the feeling of peace and power he gave her with his gesture of strength and tenderness. She tilted her head and accepted his lips as he continued to show his affection. Her eyes closed as she let him hold her, swaying gently back and forth.

Starlight, star bright,

First star I see tonight,

I wish I may, I wish I might,

Have this wish, I wish tonight.

"You just quoted Geppetto from Pinocchio," she said with a little sigh, "I loved watching that cartoon when I was a kid. Jiminy Cricket was my favorite character in that movie. Why did you quote Pinocchio?"

"As a kid," He said, softly, "I would look up to this lighthouse and act like it was a star. It would blink and shine all of the time and so, it would be the first star I would see. I would think of this lighthouse as my star. So, I would make a wish on my star, the first star I would see, every night."

"Did you make a wish," she asked, "When you just said the poem, did you make a wish."

"I did," he said, "Every time I say it, I make a wish."

She turned around and placed her arms on his shoulders. After getting on her tiptoes to give him a kiss, she rested her chin on his shoulder and felt his arms pull her into him tightly.

"Oh, no," she exclaimed as she pulled away, "It's broken."

"What's broken," he asked as he followed her eyes then gave a sigh of relief, "Oh, the lens. It was broken but it is fixed."

"How," she said with a look of disbelief on her face, "How can light still get through and be so strong when there are so many cracks?"

He walked her to the Fresnel Lens and waited for the light to rotate away from their eyes. He lifted her hand and had her touch the lens.

"See, pretty smooth huh," he said as he ran her fingers across one of the repaired cracks, "it was broken, cracked, and in pieces, but the pieces were gathered together and reassembled to make it shine once again."

"How did it break," she asked as she looked away from the light, "Did someone vandalize the lighthouse?"

"No, it wasn't vandalized," he said as he turned away from the light and rested his back on the handrail, "Unless you consider mother nature a vandal. You see, the lens was broken because of a deadly hurricane in 1928. Every broken part they could find was gathered and the lens was reassembled. So, even though it was damaged by something totally out of its control, it was reassembled and held together with epoxy that allows it to shine once again. Actually, it shines brighter now than it did then because of the electric light behind it instead of a kerosene flame."

He held out his hand to her and she took it into hers. With a gentle tug, he pulled her body into his once again.

"I have always loved looking at this lighthouse," he said after kissing the top of her head, "I have been broken and reassembled, just like this lens. Since I was a young child, I have made a wish on my star, this lighthouse. You were right in saying it is peaceful and powerful. I find peace in its power. Solitude in its strength. I may be silly by reciting that poem, but, I embrace my silliness. I shared my silliness with you and you are still here with me. Go over and look at the water and see how far the light from this lighthouse travels, then after the light sweeps by, turn to look at the lens and remember what I told you about being broken and reassembled."

After receiving another kiss on the top of her head, she turned away and walked to the outer perimeter of the platform, and watched the light sweep over the inlet. When she turned back around to look at the cracks, she did not focus her eyes on the lens. Instead, she stood, mouth agape, looking at him, on one knee with an open box containing a ring.

"I made a new wish tonight," he said in a choked voice, "Would you make that wish come true?"