What Happened to My Big Red Balloon?

      Lydia was four years old when her mother first bought her a balloon. She remembered that blissful moment perfectly. She was walking out of preschool, hand in hand with her mother, when she spotted a kind old man selling balloons to the children. The display stood behind the man with a beautiful array of colorful balloons struggling to fly into the wind. But the man had expertly tied them to the post so that every child could get a balloon.

      "Would you like a balloon Lydia?" her mother asked.

      "Yes!" Lydia squealed.

      She and her mother walked over to the man selling balloons. Lydia's mother paid for a balloon and the kind man leaned down so that he was eye to eye with Lydia.

      "Now," the old man said slowly, "which balloon would you like?" Lydia hid behind her mother's leg, scared of the kind old man. "You know what," the man said, "I have just the one for you." He stood up and walked around his collection of balloons until he disappeared behind them. When he came back around, he had the most amazing balloon that Lydia had ever seen. It was red and so huge that Lydia was afraid it would carry the old man into the sky, but his feet remained firmly on the ground.

      The kind old man leaned back down to Lydia and held out the balloon. "Hold on tight now," he said, "you wouldn't want to lose it."

      Lydia reached out her tiny hand and grabbed the string of the big red balloon from the kind old man. For a moment, she was terrified, and she closed her eyes. She felt herself lifting off the ground, she was going to fly away. Away from her mother, away from the school, away from the kind old man. Then, Lydia opened her eyes. She was still standing on the ground. She was not flying away. She was just happy. Lydia was filled with joy from her big red balloon. With a squeal of delight, Lydia ran around her mother, holding tight to her big red balloon.

      "Do you want to go play on the playground?" her mother asked.

      Lydia responded with an enthusiastic, "Yes!" before she ran off.

      She ran around the playground, holding tight to her big red balloon. She ran up the steps and slid down the slide, her balloon following her wherever she went. She didn't look back because she knew it was there. She knew that the source of her happiness and joy was never far behind. It would always be bobbing along behind her.

      Lydia ran through the grass and jumped over the flowers. Then she ran up the hill with her balloon. When she reached the top, she smiled at the big red balloon still attached to the string. Then she ran back down the hill and looked at it again, but her string was dragging on the ground.

      Lydia looked into the sky and, sure enough, there was her big red balloon floating away on the breeze. She stared at the balloon as it floated away from her. Her happiness was gone, her joy had left her. Lydia burst into tears and ran to her mother who was also watching the balloon soar away.

      Once she had stopped crying enough to speak, Lydia asked her mother, "What happened to my big red balloon?"

      The grief on her child's face almost brought her to tears. So, she told her daughter, "It blew away. But perhaps it will find you again when you need it the most." Then she bought Lydia a new balloon, but Lydia could not stop thinking about her balloon. Even with a new yellow balloon in hand, she could not forget about her big red balloon.

      Lydia believed that one day, her balloon would come back to find her when nothing else could make her smile.

Ten years later...

      Lydia stormed out of the house. She had finally had enough. She'd had enough of her father being disappointed in her and acting like it was her fault that her mother had died in a car crash. She was tired of her stepmother acting like she could control Lydia. She was done with school and how she had no friends and a massive amount of homework and how her grades were so poor that she was no longer allowed to be part of any after-school activities.

      Lydia walked the path that she knew only too well. It was the path that she had always taken when she needed to run away for a while. She would walk to the small plaza of stores, purely to get out of sight of the house. Then she would walk through the neighborhood that her house was not quite close enough to be considered a part of. Then she would wind her way through the complicated streets and end up at the playground. She would walk to the tallest tree and climb as high as she could. Then, when she was ready, she would go back home.

      On this occasion, however, she never got to the neighborhood. At the end of the line of shops, a very old but very kind man sat selling balloons. Lydia tried to walk past and ignore him, there were always very questionable people on that corner. However, when Lydia tried to walk past him, the old man stopped her.

      "Where are you going angry girl?" he asked.

      Without thinking, Lydia answered, "To the park." Then she slapped her hand over her mouth and inwardly cursed herself. Why did she tell him where she was going, that was rule number one.

      "I think you could use a balloon," the old man continued.

      "I don't have any money," Lydia said. She and already told him where she was going, she might as well humor him. He looked too weak and frail to hurt her, even if he wanted to.

      "That's alright," he said. "Stay right there, I have just the one for you." The old man disappeared behind his balloons and when he came back into sight, he was holding tight to the string of a big red balloon.

      Lydia froze. She had no idea if it was with fear or amazement, but she knew one thing, her big red balloon had come back to her. Lydia took the balloon from the kind old man and held on as if it was her lifeline.

      "Perhaps that will bring some joy into your life," the old man said, "as it did so long ago."

      "Thank you," Lydia whispered before she walked away. She stared at the balloon as she walked to the park. When Lydia arrived, she did something that she had not done in a very long time. She smiled. This was what had happened to her big red balloon. Her mother had been right, it had returned to her when she needed it the most.

      Lydia enjoyed the presence of the balloon for what could have been forever. Then she looked around the park and picked out a bench. She walked over to it and tied the balloon to the seat. She smiled for one last time, allowing herself to be joyful again. Then she walked away, leaving the balloon to find someone else who needed it. Perhaps, one day, it would find her again.

      Lydia left the park, but before the balloon was out of sight, she turned to see it one last time. Still, Lydia knew that she would always be asking herself, "What happened to my big red balloon?"

[[[[[[So, this was actually a short story writing prompt for my Literature class. It was really random, but I enjoyed it all the same. In the description, I mentioned that it had a deeper meaning to me and I wanted to explain that. Personally, I find it hard to be joyful at times and life can be just depressing. I may put on a smile and act like I'm happy, but it's normally just an act. However, every once in a while I do feel happy and joyful and it is overwhelming but then... it disappears. I lose it like a balloon. But then, one day, it comes back and I'm happy again. The thing is, happiness means nothing if it is not shared with people and, for me, I feel ten times happier when I'm happy with other people and can pass them a balloon to brighten their day.

Proverbs 17:22 - A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.]]]]]]