The Wind-Resistant Kite
Back in the mid-eighties, there was a young man. Not too smart, and not too dumb. He decided to make a kite one day. He gathered two sticks of wood, one longer than the other. He tied them together and was ready for the material he would fix to them in the shape of a diamond. He serched around his mother's basement until he found an old wind breaker made of the finest wind-resistant material. As I said before, he wasn't too smart- Just smart enough to know how to make a kite. When the kite was finished, the young man ran to the nearest park and although it was a gusty fall day, his kite would not fly. The young man grew angry and thus, left his kite there under a tree as the sky grew dark.
The kite became aware of itself that night. And as it rested starring up at the stars it thought about it's purpose in this world.
"I was made to fly- Am I not a kite?", it thought to itself. "And yet, I am made of a material that will never let me fly- Never let me soar above the clouds- Never feel the wind rushing across me, flickering my tail behind me as I look down on the earth below. I am a mistake."
The kite weeped, but no tears held to it's exterior, for the wind breaker it was made from was also water proof. The kite know it had to find it's place in this world. It thought and thought.
"Maybe I could be a plate or serving try.", It pondered. "No, no. The sticks I am made of are too weak to ever hold anything more than a simple plate of cheese and crackers. I would almost never be used except for holidays or special occasions." The kite would never want to be store away in some closet of cabinet. The meer thought of being in some dark tiny place, frighten the kite and it curled up it's tail.
"Maybe I could be used to keep the rain off someone's head in a thunderstorm.", It quickly considered. But again the idea of only being used on a rainy day and thus being stored away somewhere made the kite sigh with despair.
The kite felt doomed and cursed. Designed for one thing and yet made to never be what it was intended to be. Suddenly a over-growing feeling of pride swelled deep within the kite's little structure.
"I may never fly, but that doesn't mean I can't try!", it proclaimed. "I am a kite! And if I don't believe in myself, then I might as well just lay here and fade away."
From that moment on, the little wind-resistant kite never stopped trying to fly. Day in and day out, the kite dragged itself along the ground, jumping at every chance of wind, leaping towards the heavens in the hope to catch a breeze and fly- even if it was only for the breifest of moments.
Weeks passed. Months, seasons, years flew by and that kite never gave up. Several times a jogger or park matinece worker would put the kite in a park trash can, but that never stopped the kite. It would crawl back out and try again and again and again and again. It was scrapped, torn in places and even one of it's sticks was cracked a little from hitting the ground one too many times. Yet the kite never caved in, it never allowed itself to feel doubt. There were days when it wanted to give-up and there were days when the wind seemd just right, but it never flew and as time went by it seemed as though the little wind-resistant kite would never, never fly.
But as all things change, one day so did the wind. the kite was beaten badly and could hardly make the jump as once could, but it tried none the less. And low and behold, it didn't hit the ground. At first, the kite was confused. It had never felt anything like this before. Where was the consint reminder of failure that came when it felt itself crash into the ground? The kite shook the dirt form itself and peered down below. The kite was flying! The kite was up in the air- it was flying above the trees, looking down on the earth below. A guts of wind hit it and it flew higher still. It's tail rifled behind it as the wind made it dance about. The kite flew in and out of the clouds, higher and lower. It could believe it- It was a natural at flying. No! It was made to fly and always had been. The wind-resistant kite had never flet more free or more alive. It flew up and disrupted a flock of birds flying in a V formation.
"Look at me, birds! I'm flying! I'm flying!", the kite shouted. The birds were startled needless to say. One bird was overheard to remark to another that this kite had no string- It wasn't attached to the earth. It flew without teather.
The kite flew and flew and never came down. Around the world it went time after time and the kite never got tired of it.
And even today, every now and then you may look in the sky and see a kite soaring through the sky, not atatched to anything, not having a care in the world. And you may say, "I believe that wind-resistant kite was flying." And you would be correct my friend, Because what you are made of is never more powerful than what you believe in.
The kite became aware of itself that night. And as it rested starring up at the stars it thought about it's purpose in this world.
"I was made to fly- Am I not a kite?", it thought to itself. "And yet, I am made of a material that will never let me fly- Never let me soar above the clouds- Never feel the wind rushing across me, flickering my tail behind me as I look down on the earth below. I am a mistake."
The kite weeped, but no tears held to it's exterior, for the wind breaker it was made from was also water proof. The kite know it had to find it's place in this world. It thought and thought.
"Maybe I could be a plate or serving try.", It pondered. "No, no. The sticks I am made of are too weak to ever hold anything more than a simple plate of cheese and crackers. I would almost never be used except for holidays or special occasions." The kite would never want to be store away in some closet of cabinet. The meer thought of being in some dark tiny place, frighten the kite and it curled up it's tail.
"Maybe I could be used to keep the rain off someone's head in a thunderstorm.", It quickly considered. But again the idea of only being used on a rainy day and thus being stored away somewhere made the kite sigh with despair.
The kite felt doomed and cursed. Designed for one thing and yet made to never be what it was intended to be. Suddenly a over-growing feeling of pride swelled deep within the kite's little structure.
"I may never fly, but that doesn't mean I can't try!", it proclaimed. "I am a kite! And if I don't believe in myself, then I might as well just lay here and fade away."
From that moment on, the little wind-resistant kite never stopped trying to fly. Day in and day out, the kite dragged itself along the ground, jumping at every chance of wind, leaping towards the heavens in the hope to catch a breeze and fly- even if it was only for the breifest of moments.
Weeks passed. Months, seasons, years flew by and that kite never gave up. Several times a jogger or park matinece worker would put the kite in a park trash can, but that never stopped the kite. It would crawl back out and try again and again and again and again. It was scrapped, torn in places and even one of it's sticks was cracked a little from hitting the ground one too many times. Yet the kite never caved in, it never allowed itself to feel doubt. There were days when it wanted to give-up and there were days when the wind seemd just right, but it never flew and as time went by it seemed as though the little wind-resistant kite would never, never fly.
But as all things change, one day so did the wind. the kite was beaten badly and could hardly make the jump as once could, but it tried none the less. And low and behold, it didn't hit the ground. At first, the kite was confused. It had never felt anything like this before. Where was the consint reminder of failure that came when it felt itself crash into the ground? The kite shook the dirt form itself and peered down below. The kite was flying! The kite was up in the air- it was flying above the trees, looking down on the earth below. A guts of wind hit it and it flew higher still. It's tail rifled behind it as the wind made it dance about. The kite flew in and out of the clouds, higher and lower. It could believe it- It was a natural at flying. No! It was made to fly and always had been. The wind-resistant kite had never flet more free or more alive. It flew up and disrupted a flock of birds flying in a V formation.
"Look at me, birds! I'm flying! I'm flying!", the kite shouted. The birds were startled needless to say. One bird was overheard to remark to another that this kite had no string- It wasn't attached to the earth. It flew without teather.
The kite flew and flew and never came down. Around the world it went time after time and the kite never got tired of it.
And even today, every now and then you may look in the sky and see a kite soaring through the sky, not atatched to anything, not having a care in the world. And you may say, "I believe that wind-resistant kite was flying." And you would be correct my friend, Because what you are made of is never more powerful than what you believe in.
