The morning sunbathed the Harlow farm in soft golden light, warming the earth and waking the world. Corina Mae Harlow stood on the farmhouse porch; her hands steady as she tightened the ribbon of her wide-brim straw hat. She watched with a fond smile as her grandchildren raced barefoot across the dewy grass, their laughter ringing out like music. "Slow down, now," she called after them, her voice gentle but firm. "You'll scare the chickens half to death." The youngest, Clara, skidded to a stop, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She held up a jar in her tiny hands, its lid dotted with holes. Inside, a single firefly blinked, its golden light flickering weakly in the morning sun. "Grandma, look what I caught!" she exclaimed, her face glowing with pride.Corina knelt, brushing her weathered hands on her apron before carefully taking the jar. She studied the little firefly for a moment, her green eyes warm. "Well, isn't that a marvel," she said, her voice soft and full of wonder. "Did you know, fireflies only shine their brightest when they're free?" Clara frowned, her small brows furrowing. "But I wanted to keep it!" Corina smiled, placing a hand on the girt's shoulder. "I know, sweetheart. But some things are meant to roam, to share their light with the world. And when we let them go, we get to see them shine where they belong." She unscrewed the lid and held it out to Clara. "How about you give it a chance to glow again?" The little girl hesitated, then gently tipped the jar. The firefly rose into the air, its golden light blinking as it disappeared into the sky. Clara smiled up at her grandmother. "You were right, Grandma. It's prettier out here." Corina chuckled and kissed the top of Clara's head. "Life's full of little lessons like that. You just must be ready to see them." From behind, her eldest grandson, Henry, tugged at her apron. "Grandma, what's for breakfast?" Corina laughed, standing and ruffling his hair.

"Well, if it isn't my little sunbeams, lighting up the farm brighter than the morning sun!"