New Heights

Off the coast, in a small fishing town, a young boy went to the beach to fly his brand-new kite.

He had been asking his father for a kite for quite some time and one day, he brought one home after work to surprise him.

The boy was overcome with joy to have a kite of his very own. He slid his tiny hands over the outline of the diamond shape while admiring the fire-engine red hues. He unraveled the ivory string and released the kite. It soared high into the air, right next to some passing seagulls. Pride surged through him, and he wore a broad smile as he watched the ribbons dance in the wind from below.

He heard voices echoing in the distance and observed that a kite-flying contest was taking place. “Perfect!” he thought. He quickly wound up the loose string. With the kite in hand, he ran right over to sign up for the contest, eager to show off his skills. A middle-aged gentleman handed him a clipboard with a list of names. “The grand prize will be for one hundred dollars. Is that all right with you, son?” he said, grinning down at the boy. “Oh yes, sir! That’s more than enough for me!”

The boy couldn’t wait to share the news with his father and tell him the story of how he won the grand prize. He would be able to buy ten more kites with that money if he wanted to.

When it was time to begin the competition, all the contestants lined up. He looked around and saw that most of the children were around his age, except for a couple of larger boys at the end of the line-up. A whistle erupted, startling him. His eyes widened as he focused his attention back on his kite. He struggled to run, his feet striking the sand clumsily. The kite skipped across the sand. His face became red and hot as he watched the kite pick up and fall. He stopped running and stomped, feeling frustrated now.

“That’s it! We have a winner!” the man yelled from a distance. Embarrassment hung heavy in the pit of his stomach. He dropped his head low and walked to the dunes with his head low. He could not understand why his kite was not taking off when it had flown so well before.

He decided to head back home. As he sat down to have dinner, his father sensed a shift in him and asked him if he was upset.

“I couldn’t get my kite to fly during the contest. The grand prize was for one-hundred dollars,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

His father sat back in his chair. “But it flew earlier?”

The boy nodded, mixing the meatloaf with the mashed potatoes on his plate. “I felt embarrassed I couldn’t participate like everyone else.”

“I understand. But did receiving the kite make you happy?” he asked. He nodded again, looking up at his father.

“And did you have a good time flying the kite?” he continued.

The boy paused, suddenly confused about where his father was going with this. “I did have fun.” His lips curled into a faint smile as he recalled this afternoon.

“I know you wanted to win that contest, but can’t you see how you’ve already won?” His father raised his eyebrows, displaying his signature all-knowing look, and poured the boy a glass of lemonade.

“It is important to remember what brings you happiness. It seems to me that having a kite with just the right breeze is the key to victory.”