We bought a kite in Spain and have packed and moved it three times now. It is still unopened. You’d think I would have gotten rid of it by now, but I can’t find it in my heart to throw it out; the thought of such feels like killing hope. I hold on to it because it represents youth, joy, freedom.
So, why haven’t I opened it?
I don’t know. But here’s to hoping gifts from previous places are discovered, taken out and used. Here’s to a trip on the wind.
Tether me to God’s hand, and let me loose in a smack of color that draws our eyes upward, childlike.