On the edge of a quiet town stood a small house with a blue door. Inside lived a child named [Taro](SG57V36D). [Taro](SG57V36D) liked order. Every shoe was aligned. Every book had a place. Every night followed the same routine.

Each evening, when the sun dropped behind the hills, [Taro](SG57V36D) lit a small lantern by the window. The lantern was old. The glass was scratched. The light was steady.

No one remembered where the lantern came from. [Taro](SG57V36D) did not ask. The lantern mattered because it stayed on all night.

Across the town lived people who rushed. They forgot things. They missed steps. They laughed loud and slept late.

One night, the wind arrived without warning. It pushed doors. It bent trees. It cut power across the town.

Lights went out. Streets went dark. People stopped moving.

[Taro](SG57V36D)’s lantern stayed on.

The light was small, but it reached the road. One neighbor saw it and walked closer.

Another followed. Then another. They moved slowly. They watched their steps.

Soon, people gathered near the blue door. No one spoke. The lantern did the work.

A parent held a child. A worker leaned on a wall. A baker sat on the step. All faced the light.

The storm passed. Power returned. Houses lit up again.