A Light in the Darkness
Imagine standing in complete darkness. No moon, no stars, no lamps. Just silence and shadows pressing in around you. Then, someone lights a single candle. It is small, flickering, fragile—but suddenly the darkness is not absolute anymore. You can see. You can breathe. You can hope.
That simple image captures the enduring power of the hymn This Little Light of Mine. On the surface, it’s a children’s song with a playful melody. But its story is deeply tied to America’s long struggle with slavery, freedom, and equality. This little song of light has carried generations through both private devotion and public protest.
For me, that image of light has always been more than symbolic. I’ve had moments in my life—times of anxiety, discouragement, or uncertainty—when I felt like I was standing in that same heavy darkness. And while I never heard a literal candle strike in those moments, I have felt the power of even the smallest bit of light: a kind word from a friend, a scripture that surfaced in my mind, a hymn that reminded me that Christ is near. It never takes much. Just a spark is enough to remind me that the darkness isn’t final.
And let’s be honest—This Little Light of Mine is one of those songs almost everyone knows. Chances are you sang it in school, at church, or in some group where the words came out half-shouted, half-sung, but always with a kind of joyful abandon. Because it’s so familiar, we’re tempted to think of it as just a children’s tune—simple, lighthearted, and nothing more. But that’s where we’d be wrong. Beneath that playful melody lies a story rooted in resilience and hope, one that reaches far beyond the circle of childhood sing-alongs.
That’s why This Little Light of Mine resonates so deeply with me. It’s not just a children’s song—it’s a declaration that I still have a flame to carry. Even if it’s small, even if it feels fragile, it matters. And maybe that’s the point. The smallest light can still push back the deepest dark.
Born in Hardship, Preserved in Memory
The hymn arose out of African American oral traditions before slavery was abolished in 1865. For families held in bondage, songs carried hope, memory, and faith when little else could.
Francis A. Clark later recalled:
“From earliest childhood I heard [this and other] songs, sung by my elders (who had all their lives been held in slavery …) as they gathered, almost nightly, in our home and in the homes of our kindred and friends.”
In 1937, Clark published some of these songs from memory, including an early version of This Little Light of Mine. What began in the shadows of slavery was preserved and handed down as a testimony of resilience.
A Freedom Song for a Nation
In the decades after Clark’s publication, the song grew in popularity. By the 1960s, it became one of the anthems of the Civil Rights Movement. Protesters sang it in marches, rallies, and even jail cells. Verses were often adapted to reflect personal trials or community struggles, making it what came to be called a “freedom song.”
The simple call to let one’s light shine became a collective declaration: even when faced with hatred or violence, the light of justice and dignity would not be extinguished.
This was not just a children’s hymn anymore. It was a national hymn of endurance, tying the story of faith to the wider American story of liberty for all.
The Gospel of Light
The spiritual depth of this hymn is inseparable from scripture. Christ Himself said:

Matthew 5:14–16 – “Ye are the light of the world… let your light so shine before men.”
3 Nephi 18:24 – “Hold up your light that it may shine unto the world.”
Doctrine and Covenants 50:24 – “That which is of God is light.”

The hymn testifies of three eternal truths:

Jesus Christ brings light to everyone in the world.
When we follow Him,