Years ago, when Lata Baa was a little girl, the village had no electricity. On moonless nights, the only light came from this very lantern, which her grandfather carried. He called it “Diya ka Daan”— the gift of the flame.
One night, there was a terrible storm. A little calf had gone missing, and the village was scared. No one wanted to go into the forest to look for it, except Lata Baa’s grandfather. He lit the lantern, held Lata Baa’s tiny hand, and said, “When we walk with courage, light follows.”
They searched for hours. The lantern flickered in the rain but never went out. Then, deep in the woods, they found the calf trembling beside a fallen tree. Lata Baa’s grandfather placed the lantern next to the calf and whispered, “Show the way home.”
And it did. The lantern glowed so brightly that even the forest path seemed to bow before its light. When they returned, the entire village waited, cheering with relief.
From that day, Lata Baa kept the lantern close. She cleaned it every morning, lit it every night, and whispered her thoughts to it like a friend.
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