Santelmo

Lola's story

When I was a girl in Manila, we walked to the Simbang Gabi, the Christmas Masses before dawn, while the sky was still dark. One morning I saw a little light floating along the electric wires, bobbing like a lost firefly. "Santelmo," my Lola said, and held my hand tighter. "Huwag mong sundan." Don't follow it.

"But it looks lonely," I said.

"Maybe it is," she said. "Some people say a santelmo is a little light that lost its way home."

Many years later, on a snowy Christmas Eve in Queens, a little light drifted down our street and stopped at our window. Kuya, Didi and Chun pressed their noses to the glass. "Nawawala siya," Chun whispered. He's lost. We didn't follow it. Instead, we hung our parol, the star lantern, in the window, so it could see that this was a home. "Tuloy ka," I said. Come in.

What people say

The santelmo is a wandering ball of light from old Philippine stories. Its name comes from Saint Elmo, who watched over sailors. Long ago, sailors saw a blue glow dancing on the tips of their ships' masts during storms, and called it St. Elmo's fire.

In the Philippines, people say they see santelmos at night, floating over rivers, fields and roads, or bobbing along the electric wires. Some stories say a santelmo is a spirit that lost its way. Everyone agrees on one rule: if you see a santelmo, don't follow it, or it may lead you far from home.

How to stay safe

Don't follow it. Stay on your path, keep walking home, and let the little light find its own way. At Christmas, every Filipino window has a parol that says: welcome home.