The Christmas Candle

There's a story that has been

passed down for centuries,

from father to son.

Legend has it a certain man came

to live in the village of Gladbury.

He was a good-hearted man,

devoted to his family and his craft.

The candle maker brought light to the entire village.

But he longed to give them more.

Life was hard in Gladbury,

and the people had become disheartened.

Night and day, the candle maker worked,

pouring his heart and his prayers into each candle.

But on the first Sunday of Advent,

all he had left to give... was a single prayer,

not for himself, but for Gladbury, for his son,

and for all the sons and daughters to come.

Silence was the only answer he would receive that night.

Or so it seemed.

An angel blessed a single candle.

The heavenly gift was given to the ones who needed it most,

with the simple instruction:

Light this and pray.

The children hoped for an answered prayer.

But what they received was a miracle.

On Christmas Eve, the village rejoiced

upon hearing of their change of fortune,

for such things do happen.

And from them, legends are born.

As the tale is told, every twenty-five years,

the angel visits The Haddington Chandlery,

and every time a prayer is answered.

But even the greatest stories must come to an end.

Much has changed in two hundred years.

In a world illuminated by modern marvels,

who needs the light of a simple candle?

I'm starving.

How are you'! Hello.

How we doing'! Alright?

Yeah, very good, yeah.

Hope they'll be bringing some more soon.

Bless you little lady.

ls it soup again'!

God bless you, sir.

There's no longer a place for you here!

Please!

I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do.

Orders came straight from the top.

You should learn to keep your

affections to yourself, Ruth Goodchild!

And don't even think about coming back!

Serves you right.

Abner, will you take over for a second?

Yes. God bless you, sir.

Hello, miss.

Miss.

What do you want'!

I only mean to help.

It's no Buckingham Palace, Miss Goodchild.

But you'll be safe here.

And with three meals a day, you won't go hungry.

When the baby comes, what then'!

Well, perhaps there's someone...

No.There's nobody.

Or rather there was, but he found someone else

and dismissed me from work today.

Don't lose hope, miss.

We'll find a place for you and your baby.

God bless you, sir.

Reverend Richmond?

Friend of yours?

I have no idea.

God bless you.

Reverend David Richmond.

So you really have left the pulpit.

Nonsense.This is my pulpit now.

Soup, soap, and salvation.

And please, I'm only known as David here.

Have we met?

We might have, had you not rejected my last three letters.

Ah, yes, Lady Camdon of Gladbury, in the flesh.

But I'm sorry that you've traveled so far only

to hear me decline your offer once again.

My place is here, helping the needy.

You, sir, have you heard this man preach?

Can't say that I have.

Villagers flocked to London to hear him.

I once sat by a fisherman who rode his boat

twelve miles for one sermon.

It was along time ago.

But I'll never forget.

David Richmond, miracle man.

In the midst of my own great loss,

it was your words that revived my faith.

Any able bodied man can serve a bowl of soup,

but few men have a gift like yours.

My only hope is that you choose to serve

where your gift is needed most.

God bless you.

Thank you very much, sir.

Perhaps you should think about it, David.

God bless you.Well done, sir.

That's it, take a bowl.

Sorry.

Dear Lady Camdon, your recent visit was a

timely reminder of the life I left behind.

Though tragedy has altered my course,

I can no longer stray from my calling in the pulpit.

I humbly accept the offer to serve your parish in the

place of the late Reverend Pillington.

I shall arrive in Gladbury the Friday before Advent.

Yours truly, David Richmond.

Come on, boy!

Come on! Move on!

You silly old thing. Come on!

Move on!

Come on!

Might I offer you some assistance?

Thank you, I'm quite capable!

Well, if it wouldn't be too forward of me, I could--

No!

I'm not a sack of potatoes.

Come on!

Come on, boy. Come on!

I don't need your help.

Come on. Come on.

Come on.

And where are you headed, miss'!

Miss Barstow.

I'm headed to London by way of Gladbury.

And the people of Gladbury,

they allow a lady to venture on her own'!

It's the Christmas season. The whole town's in a fuss.

But Christmas isn't for weeks.

I take it you've never been to Gladbury.

Is it really so bad?

It is.

Whoa, steady boy. Come on!

Come on, come on, come on!

Whoa.Whoa.

Especially this Christmas

with the new minister set to arrive.

Reverend High and Mighty from London.

I hope they dislike him very much.

Thank you. I hate to be indebted to anyone, much less a stranger.

It's an easy debt to forgive.

"Reverend High and Mighty" at your service.

Reverend. How providential.

Oh, we shall see.

Might you have any words of advice?

Yes.

Retreat.

Walk on.

Very well then. I look forward to

seeing you at church on Sunday!

Walk on.

Thank you Ebenezer.

REM Hurry up, Edward.

We don't want the new minister thinking the

Haddingtons are a pair of village bumpkins.

Codswallop my dear, you look lovely.

I come from a long line of bumpkins, and I'm proud of it.

Who wouldn't love Gladbury at Christmas?

He's here!

There he is!

Hello.

Alright gentlefolk, make some space.

Oh here, allow me.

Herbert Hopewell, at your service.

Me and the Missus'll be looking after you.

Oh.Thank you, but I can manage.

Not while I'm still breathing.

Reverend Richmond, welcome to Gladbury.

I'm Bea Haddington, and this is my Edward.

Edward Haddington.

Of Haddington Chandlery.

Home of the Christmas Candle...'!

Um.

Oh, you haven't heard of us.

That's alright, you'll have a chance

to meet the reverend soon enough.

Lovely to see you.

All of you!

Let's see the church, eh?

There are miracles all around,

Are you alright?

There she is, a special soul.

Sometimes I think I'm hearing an angel.

That's my lady... Eleanor.

Off with that muddy coat!

Did you crawl all the way from London?

Come on, britches too.

You're not the first clergyman I've seen in his underpants.

I'll just get these cleaned up.

We’re just across the garden if you need us.

Anything at all.