The Balloon

It was not just one of those tiny balloons that come in a package of thirty used for general decoration. It was a helium-filled balloon; It was gigantic. It was so huge it felt like a spaceship on a tether tugging at my hand. My grandfather probably spent a pretty penny for it but that thought never occurred to me at the time. I was just so excited to get a flying balloon all I wanted to do was grab the string and run out in the open to show it off.

My grandfather was a very frugal man. He hesitantly handed me the string. "Here let's tie it around you wrist," he said. I was too excited to listen. I was jumping up and down trying to snatch the string from his hand.

"I can handle it grandpa... I want the balloon..."

"Alright," he said handing me the string. And off I went, balloon in hand, jumping and skipping toward the gate. The gate had a knee-high angle-iron in the bottom to secure the door on one side of the gate. As I tried to clear the angle-iron, one of my feet caught the edge. Down to the ground I went hurtling, face first. Quickly realizing that gravity was overpowering me and winning the contest I prepared to soften the landing to save my face (no pun intended). Almost in an instant I automatically stretched out my arms in front of me. My fingers spread out as my palms opened for the impact. Off went the string... off went the balloon... higher and higher up the sky. I followed it with my eyes now filling with tears.

I felt a smack on the back of my head. "Punyeta! Hudido. Sin Verguenza!" It was my grandfather who, witnessing the whole tragedy unfold, became so incensed he lost his cool at having invested his last few centavos on a helium-filled balloon and for what? I cried rivers. I was inconsolable.

That day I learned a couple of lessons. 1) You tend not to value as much the things that you did not pay or work for, 2) If you give a gift to someone, what they do with the gift after you have given it to them is none of your business.