The Little Red Balloon

One day the little balloon’s parents tied a string to it. They said, “this is the string of responsibility.” The little balloon took new string happily, after all it weighed so little and it could still easily flit here and there as the wind took it. One day just for a moment the string became tangled in the twisted branches of a dead tree. The little red balloon tugged and tugged and with a bit of effort managed to get free.

Then a button was tied to the string…. the elder balloons called it the button of ownership. It was a bright golden button, so attractive to the eyes of the little red balloon. It weighed so little, even the slightest of breezes would still send the balloon soaring across the sky. Of course every now and again the string would catch in a rock or a branch but each time (with effort) it was able to pull away.

The little balloon liked the button so much it bought another and another, first red, then silver. It didn’t weigh too much, just a little bit more and a good medium wind would still be enough to lift the little balloon into the air. And it flew here and there from time to time. Not every day of course, but its life had become a little busier after all.

The little red balloon was thrilled one day when it was given a bow. It was so beautiful and pleasing to the eye. It fluttered prettily tied to the string. Now when it flew it looked proudly at its bow and buttons as they dangled below. Of course the string did get tangled more often and it took a little more effort to get loose.

Soon the flights of freedom grew less and less. The little balloon had another string tied to the original with all sorts of baubles it had collected. It hung low on the ground now. A strong gale would send it skittering across the ground now and then.

One day it hung low to the ground and remembered those days of flying free above the valleys and hills. It remembered seeing birds in flight. Lately it had focused its vision on the treasures of the earth, gathering them with delight. Its once proud bright red sheen had dulled some too and it sagged in places.

Finally the day came when the gales blew strongest. Angry gray brows in the clouds overhead sent everything blowing about. The little red balloon (no so little anymore) felt the stirring of the wind and longed to be a part of it. It looked at its pretty ornaments sadly… they didn’t gleam so much anymore.

The strongest wind it had ever felt moved it only an inch or two. Then the little red balloon decided to remove the string. All the other older balloons were horrified when it announced this. They tried to talk little red out of it….”you’ll ruin your life… I’d miss you and your buttons…..you won’t amount to anything!!” The little red balloon ignored them, it struggled and pulled and eventually the old matted string full of rusty buttons and rotting bows fell away. A great weight was lifted from it.

With the freshening of a new breeze the little red balloon took off rapidly and left all the other balloons far behind. It soared over the land in every increasing circles. It looked up and saw a flock of birds fly over a hillside afire with wildflowers and a roaring blue waterfall tucked into the mountains. Spray from the waterfall’s plume was sent into the air and a rainbow arced from each dark green mossy shore.

A doe and fawn clad in resplendent spring colors of silvery red grazed peacefully on the sunny side of a tawny hillock. Far below in a river valley a large black bear splashed happily in a cold stream.