On a rocky point above the wild sea stood an old lighthouse, and in it lived an old keeper and his granddaughter, Noor. Every night the keeper climbed the long spiral stair and lit the great lamp, sending its beam sweeping far out over the water to keep the ships safe from the rocks. Noor loved to watch him work. "One day," he told her, "you'll keep the light too. It is the most important job there is. As long as the light burns, the sailors find their way home."
One wild night, the worst storm of the year came howling in off the sea. The waves crashed white against the rocks, and the wind screamed around the tower. And on that of all nights, the old keeper slipped on the wet stair and hurt his leg badly, so he could not climb. "Noor," he gasped, "the lamp. It must be lit. There are ships out there in the dark." Noor was only small, and the storm was huge and frightening. But she did not hesitate.
Up the long spiral stair Noor climbed, round and round, all alone, the wind shaking the whole tower around her. It was dark, and steep, and far, and more than once she wanted to turn back. But she thought of the ships out on the black water, and the sailors trusting in the light, and she kept climbing. At last she reached the top, where the great cold lamp stood waiting, unlit.
Noor had watched her grandfather a hundred times, but doing it herself, in the dark, with her hands shaking, was another thing entirely. She struck the match — and the wind blew it out. She struck another — out again. On the third try, she cupped her small hands around the flame, sheltering it the way you shelter something precious, and touched it to the wick. The great lamp caught, and flared, and blazed — and its beam swept out across the storm, strong and bright and sure.
Out on the wild sea, a ship full of weary sailors had been lost in the dark, the rocks somewhere terribly near. And then — there! — the lighthouse beam swung across the water, showing them the way to safety. They turned the ship and followed it safely into the harbor, every sailor home alive, never knowing that their lives had been saved by one brave girl at the top of a swaying tower. But Noor knew. And her grandfather knew. And he had never in his life been so proud.
"The light only needs one thing," the old keeper said. "Someone brave enough to climb the stairs and light it."
And from that night on, Noor was a keeper of the light — the youngest and the bravest the old lighthouse had ever known.