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When he grew older his fingers were no less nimble, but they had seen enough knots to know that some could not be undone. He began to teach. Children of Greyhaven would come on summer afternoons, daring one another and bringing him small things to be mended. Bothax taught them to look at an item and ask three questions: Who gave it away? Who will miss it? Can returning it make a whole? He taught that the world was an inventory of absence as much as presence.

People continued to leave things behind, and people continued to find them. The lighthouse kept its blue flame, and somewhere, in a drawer or under a pillow, someone whispered the name Bothax as a joke or a prayer. Once in a while a letter would arrive on the lamplighter’s route, folded and stamped, with a single line: "Found." It was never clear if the note was from him. download bothax

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