One Yellow Balloon

In junior high, there was this girl that hassled me.  I think she thought I was a little too goody-goody.  After a long bus ride home, I dumped all my worries on my Mom.  She told me to "kill her with kindness".  At first I was skeptical, but an opportunity arose.  She needed a calculator in class.  I offered to let her borrow my pink one.  And somehow after that, she treated me a little better.  We weren't adversaries anymore.  And I was a believer in Mom's tip. Kindness always wins.  Even if the person doesn't change how they treat you, you can hold your head high knowing that you chose the high road.

Once in college, I was for some reason feeling down.  I walked through the student center and bought myself a yellow balloon.  53 cents with tax.  And I walked it home as I trudged through the snow.  It bounced up and down and brightened up the gray and white snowy afternoon.  A few fellow pedestrians asked if it was my birthday.  I told them no, but that no one can avoid smiling while carrying a yellow balloon. The next few months, I would buy myself another balloon now and then.  Then a friend needed one.  Then my two roommates started meeting after class on Fridays to each buy a balloon.  We would return to our apartment, ponder for inspiration on who might need a little yellow balloon in their life, make the anonymous cards, and tie them to their door knobs. Once when my heart was broken, my friends filled my bedroom with yellow balloons.  Another time, a friend gave me a uninflated one, just in case I ever needed one. No one can avo...

 credit for header photo Photo by Cody Giles on Unsplash