She tied a knot and held the balloon at its tied end. She’d blown it up with her own breath, to a size large enough for her to hug it comfortably between her arms. It was a plain blue balloon, simple with no patterns or images on it. She walked outside, still holding the balloon, and was grateful for the gentle wind: the balloon would fly.
She turned on her heels a couple of times to feel the direction of the wind, and forecast the journey of the balloon, and positioning herself so her back was against the wind, she rose the balloon up to her eye level, and then a little higher. And then she simply let it go, without asking it to return, without even a tear in her eyes. She watched the balloon as, carried by the wind, it made its way higher and higher up into the sky, and further and further away from her, out into the Universe.
There would be times at night, days and months after she’d released the balloon, when glancing out the window she would notice, as far up as the stars twinkle, a little ball of light, travelling in its secret direction. Little did she know that this was her balloon, and that at night it glowed from all the love and gratefulness and hope that she’d breathed into it. And one day, when all her dreams came true and she was filled with joy and peace, little did she know that it was her balloon that had exploded, somewhere out in the Universe, and all the love and gratefulness and hope that had been inside it and fallen from the sky, back to the Earth and into her heart.
Words & Feelings 