The golden kite dipped its’ paper wings into the dome of the sky and clashed with the tidal winds of summer. I watched it frolic in the blue background, as I ran with the string in my hand. I could run forever with it, nothing had mattered more.  The tail of the kite whirled and looped each time the prevailing wind swept it across the heavens.

I had told my grandfather one day that I had a dream. I had a dream that I could fly from the highest swing, jump off it, and wander so far that I’d get lost in the night. The stars had seemed to festoon the black night like bulbs of light on a Christmas tree. They turned into candles as I stepped closer. I ran across the black abyss, trying to blow them all out, as if saying ‘Good night’ to the universe. ‘Good night!’ …I shouted down to Earth. Not a sound was swept back, and I was sure the world was sleeping. I was a little girl, alone in my little world, and I dreamed all sorts of dreams.

I asked my grandfather once, how I could make all these dreams come true.
He made me this kite, and told me I could feel all the feelings I sensed in the dreams if I just had the chance to run with it.

That’s how I ended up running along with the kite on that lazy Sunday. It was a divine afternoon. I kept looking up and watching it soar. I ran so far, and if I had the chance, I’d run even more.

But it’s paper wings moved so fast and it quivered as its’ body laced into a tree. I stood there with the string still in hand, trying to pull it down, yet fearful of ripping it.

‘Daddy, look!’ A girl ran up to the tree and watched it in awe, eyes bright. She smiled her gap-toothed grin up to the branches, with the kite’s tail flittering and fleeting. ‘Daddy, what is it? Why are the tree’s branches so golden?’

Her dad took her small child hands into his. ‘It’s a golden tree, sweetheart. Painted golden by the sunset. The one and only golden tree in the world.’

The corner of her mouth twitched as she broke into small giggles. ‘Daddy, it’s very special, isn’t it?’ she whispered. ‘It’ll bring us luck, won’t it?’

Her dad nodded. She smiled. ‘It’s going to be our golden tree,’ she said, as she stood there, hand in hand, with her father.

I let the string go. I walked away from the kite.

I had only flown it once, but I knew I passed on something extraordinary. It was special to me, but now it can be something special for someone else, I thought. My grandfather gave it to me, and now I’m giving it to the little girl, even if she didn’t know it was my golden kite. I heard my grandfather’s voice echo in my head: ‘If you’ve found something special, significant, pass it on, and just have hope that it could be valued mutually. You’re giving them the hope to make a dream.’

I passed my kite on, and the thought of giving it up for the girl rested calmly on my mind.
I took a short glance at the little girl and her father and I knew I passed hope on to them. Just so they could dream. Just so they could feel all the things I felt when I dreamed of going to uncharted places, doing things that belonged to the beyond.

They watched the golden tree as the sun sat on the brink of the world, and slowly disappeared under the horizon of the earth. She’ll have something beautiful to hold on to, and hopefully, she’ll pass it on too. I walked away, letting that thought linger.