Mathematics teachers introducing calculus have the difficult task of explaining how numbers can be so small that they are treated as zeroes in certain calculations, while they are emphatically not actually equal to zero. There are some helpful examples: The fact that small currency denominations are disregarded when money is being counted in millions and billions when speaking about the finances of a country, say, does not mean the small money is in fact without value. Yet having to learn to do mathematical procedures with an infinitesimally small, non-zero number is a challenge, not helped by having to use a tongue-twisting word for a mind-warping concept.

If I set my humble candle against gargantuan swirling, pulsing galaxies, I have the same sense of a minuteness that is nevertheless not nothing. The infinitesimally small flame – and I – are not overwhelmed by the inconceivable vastness of the cosmos. Consequently, there is great comfort in the knowledge that small is not zero in the sight of God. There is great comfort in the understanding that our seemingly insignificant lives, our meagre gifts to the world and our puny prayers are not nothing in the sight of the creator and sustainer of subatomic particles.

As we approached the 18th of July, Mandela Day, fuses were lit in our country that ignited anger, frustration, desperation – and malevolence – into a conflagration of looting and destruction that will cast long shadows over our future. Now I set my candle against the darkness of loss, pain and fear, knowing that there are a host of candle prayers sparkling in the dark; knowing that we will be seen and heard by the God of the minute.