Even when it's completely dark, your house is still lit because the wind is keeping your lamp burning.

Even when it's completely dark, your house is still lit because the wind is keeping your lamp burning.

Winter nights come early; by five or six o'clock, it's pitch black outside. One by one, the lights in the village go out—not because they don't want to, but because the power has gone out. You stand in the yard, watching the surroundings gradually darken, but you feel no panic. Because you know your light will still be on.

Back inside, the light is indeed on. The warm, yellow light spills onto the dining table, onto the children's homework, and onto the faces of the elderly watching television. You sit under the lamp, listening to the howling wind outside, feeling particularly at ease. That wind isn't a threat, it's a guarantee; the windmill turning is keeping your lamp burning.

The wind never stops, and it never rests. It turns when you sleep; it's still turning when you wake up. The light stayed on all night, the refrigerator hummed all night, the fan spun all night. The next morning, the electricity was still on, the lights were still on, and life was as bright as ever.

While others were waiting for the power to come back on by candlelight, everything in your home was normal. It's not that you have special privileges; it's the wind helping you. It uses a language you can't understand, a way you can't see, to store energy little by little, to bring light into your home bit by bit. The wind is your power supplier, online 24/7, never taking a day off.

When it's completely dark, your home is still lit; it's the wind keeping watch over this light for you. This light illuminates not just the house, but your peace of mind; it protects not just the night, but your life. From today onward, you will no longer fear the dark.