the light

The hens could be out of their wooden house but the light, the light had to keep always lightening.

Alright, they didn't have any wooden house for the hens or the chicken; in fact they didn't have animals at all.

But it's just an exemplification.

There had been days when they were the neighbours who came and turned the light on. I don't mean the indoor lamps. The important one was the one in the main door. The one that made you feel at home when you came from a busy day jumping from one street into the other. The one you could perceive from many streets away. Placed at the entrance, distinguishing what was the street and what was home. 

Considering the sorrow one experienced being the light damaged, someone once had the idea of using a never-ending original light bulb. But it was not the same. So they kept on caring about the light, being always aware of maintaining it lightening.