The Yellow Balloon

A little black girl with butterfly barrettes

Ran up to me as I stepped off the bus.

She laughed

The kind of laugh that makes you

Look up for a moment

And remember there is sky there.

With hope falling on every syllable, she said

“this

is

for

you.”

She reached her hand towards me

Holding the string of a

Yellow balloon.

I hesitated

And the moment was heavy

With a hundred questions.

I used to laugh like that

But somewhere along the way I realized

That beauty came with pain

And so I chose a monotone life that was somewhere between

Pain and beautiful

A life that was very comfortable

But very alone

A life without grief

But also without reverie.

This gift that she offered me

This gift of the yellow balloon

It wasn’t in-between.

It was beautiful.

I had forgotten what beautiful looked like

So I hesitated.

And this little girl, didn’t she understand

How different the worlds we came from?

Her life filled with

Harsh judgements that she didn't deserve

Mine filled with

Screens and fences

Her people wrestling with

Their hundreds of years in chains

A pain so deep that I would never be able to fully understand.

Shouldn’t I be the one giving something to her?

And so I hesitated

And that little girl, if she could see

What was inside of me

She wouldn’t want to give me that yellow balloon.

Despite my neat house and my

Church every Sunday

I am very scared

Like a little girl with butterfly barrettes.

I live with thoughts dark and sad

And I wonder if anyone would love me

If they really knew me.

I didn’t deserve this gift.

And so I hesitated.

Finally, I bent down with tears in my eyes and said

"Honey, I don’t think I should take this ballon away from you. “

“But I want to give it to you” she said back. "You're so beautiful."

She blinked. I felt seen for the first time in a long time. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was not monotone. Maybe I was beautiful, just as she was beautiful.

“I have an idea" she said. Let’s hold on to it together, so it's both of ours, and then we can let it go together!"

I put my hand over hers.

“1….2…..3!”

We opened our hands. And our shackles fell

In that moment I felt it again:

Grief and reverie

But this time I wanted them both.

I wanted all of it.

Together we watched the balloon floating in the distance

Sunlight falling on us like baptism

Like reckless mercy

Like relentless love

I looked down at the girl,

Our hands still intertwined

And I realized that

Despite all of our differences

In that moment we were just two beautiful children

That had seen a glimpse of home.