"A Kite Taught Me the Meaning of Freedom"

A child's view of liberty, shaped by the sky

I still remember the day I flew my first kite. It was an ordinary day for the world — but for me, it became unforgettable. The sky was painted a gentle blue, the wind was soft and playful, and the rooftops were alive with children, all clutching kite strings with bright eyes and big dreams. In my small hands, I held a vibrant orange-and-blue kite, adorned with a crescent and star. I named it Freedom.

Back then, I didn’t know how to fly a kite properly. My little fingers trembled on the spool, unsure, but my heart beat wildly with excitement. My father stood beside me, gently guiding my hands — not just on the string, but on the path to a bigger truth. As the wind caught the kite’s wings and lifted it higher and higher, a strange feeling rose in me. It was as though I, too, was rising — lighter, freer, as if I had let go of something heavy.

Freedom, as I knew it then, was just flying

To my young mind, freedom meant only one thing: my kite flying higher than everyone else’s. It meant not being cut down by another string. It meant the wind was mine and mine alone.

But like the kite itself, that meaning changed over time.

One day, while flying my favorite kite, it got tangled in another child’s line. My kite was cut, spinning helplessly as the wind stole it away. I cried bitterly and complained to my father,

"He took my kite! That’s not fair!"

My father smiled and replied,

"Son, that’s what freedom is too. Everyone holds their own string. Everyone has the right to rise, to fight, to fall — and sometimes, to fly away."

What happens when a kite is free?

Have you ever watched a cut kite? There’s something magical in how it dances — not bound, not afraid. It twirls and floats, surrendered to the wind, not knowing where it will land, but embracing the journey.

That was my first real lesson in freedom.

It’s not just about flying high — it’s about letting go. It’s about trusting the wind and discovering new paths.

But then another question began to form in my heart:

Is every free thing also happy?

Freedom is not the same as being aimless.

As I grew older, the definition of freedom shifted. I began to understand that freedom doesn’t mean recklessness. A kite without a string can only fly for so long.

If there’s no direction, no control, no sense of purpose — then freedom becomes chaos.

I remember one day trying to fly a kite on my own. No guidance, no patience, no understanding of wind or balance. The kite crashed within seconds. That day I learned:

Freedom without responsibility is like a kite without a string — it cannot last.

Our society — a sky full of kites .

In school, a teacher once asked us,

"Do you think we’re truly free?"

Some said yes — we live in an independent country.

Others said no — our dreams are still caged.

That day I remembered a kite I had flown — one that was neither fully cut nor fully tied. It rose, it shook, it fell, it rose again — but its string kept slipping from my grip.

Just like that kite, a society without true justice, education, and equality can never be fully free. Real freedom is when every child can go to school, when every woman can walk safely, when every dream has a chance to be chased — regardless of religion, gender, or background.

That’s when we can truly say:

"We are free."

What that kite called Freedom taught me .

That bright orange-and-blue kite still flies in my memory. Every time I feel lost, trapped, or unsure of my path — I close my eyes and see it soaring. I remember that moment, the way it rose with hope, and the way it drifted away with dignity.

It taught me:

• Freedom is a gift — and a responsibility.
• Each of us holds the string of our own lives.
• We can only rise when we believe in rising again after we fall.

Sometimes, we’ll be cut by others. Sometimes, we’ll lose control of the string. Sometimes, we’ll fly higher than we ever imagined. And sometimes, we’ll land in places we never intended to be.

But in all of this — there is freedom.

Not perfection. Not control.

Just the wind, the sky, and our willingness to let go.

And in the end…

Now, when I see children flying kites on rooftops, I smile quietly.

Because I know — it’s never just a game.

It’s a story.

A symbol.

A spark.

Maybe today, some other child is naming their kite Freedom — and unknowingly learning a lesson they’ll carry forever.