MARK MY WORD: CANDLELIGHT, FIREFLIES ILLUMINATE LIFE'S MODERN CONVENIENCES

Pioneers we're not.

The other night in the middle of a storm, our power went out.

I climbed the dark stairs and felt my way into the upstairs bathroom where I grabbed the emergency flashlight off the wall.

Unfortunately, the flashlight's battery power has been steadily dwindling in recent months. This time, the flashlight stayed on just long enough for us to find and light a few candles.

Thank goodness for Christmas candles. In the middle of a power outage, they are anything but decoration.

We sat huddled around the dining room table listening to the thundering storm.

Life without electricity is unimaginable these days, particularly to our children.

Seven-year-old Becca and 3-year-old Bailey have grown up on television, videotapes, computer games, microwaves, stereos and hairdryers.

They sleep through the night with the soothing melodies of country music playing on the radio.

They're not used to life in the flickering shadows of candle power.

"In the old days, people didn't have electricity," I told the girls. "They used candles and oil lamps."

Becca said she was sure they used fireflies in a jar when they didn't have any candles to light their way.

Becca and I played cards by candlelight. All the while I kept an eye on Bailey, repeatedly telling her to stay away from the candles.

"Don't get too close to the flame. You'll burn Barbie's hair," I warned as she played with a doll.

I kept admonishing Bailey to get off the dining room table. Bailey views the table top in the same way that most people view chairs.

Of course, she has always been a climber. When our backs are turned, she likes to climb along the edge of the basement stairs, holding on to the outside of the banister. About half way up, she turns and steps onto the blue roof of the large, Barbie dollhouse that stands next to the stairs.

She does this over and over again, like a tireless mountain climber. Of course, even indoor mountain climbing doesn't work well in the dark.

With the power out, everyone decided to go to bed. There's only so much eye strain you can take.

But when we reached the top of the stairs, Bailey switched on the light switch in her room, thinking that her room would light up.

"All the power's off," I reminded her.

"We can watch a tape," she suggested.

"No, that runs on electricity too," I explained. At her age, it's hard to believe that you can go to bed without watching a video even in the middle of a power outage.

We ended up reading bedtime stories by the flickering flames as the shadows danced around us. I was a nervous wreck every time Bailey climbed out of bed, her flowing nightgown coming close to the burning candle perched on the plastic, toy vanity next to her bed.

After reading a few children's books, I blew the candles out, leaving only a couple candles lit in the adjacent bathroom to serve as a nightlight.

By this time, Joni and Becca already were sleeping soundly in our other upstairs bedroom.

In the middle of the night, electricity returned to our lives, lighting up the house and powering up everything from our refrigerator to our furnace.

You don't realize how much low-grade noise there is in a home when the power is on. When the power's off, there's no hum of the refrigerator, no rinsing sounds from the dishwasher and no sound of rushing air from the heating and cooling ducts.

The return of power woke me up. I got out of bed and blew out the candles that had been serving as our nightlight. I walked through the house and switched off the lights.

I climbed back up the stairs in the comforting glow of an electric nightlight. It was a reassuring feeling to know the power was back on even though it was "lights out" time.

I have nothing against fireflies. But modern life just doesn't fly without electricity.

~Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.