This is a special memory from my own childhood.
I was up at the crack of dawn — you would have thought that it was Christmas! We were going to fly kites. Daddy was going to teach us. I was about five years old and I had never flown a kite before. Now I was the proud owner of a bright red kite. My sister had chosen a blue one. Daddy had worked late that night so we had to wait until morning to put them together. That explains why I was up so early.
I couldn’t wait to get downstairs and put my kite together. I knew it would be hours before my sister would willingly wake up but I was really hoping Daddy would get up when he heard me downstairs. He didn’t. I am pretty sure that I waited patiently in the front room for hours with my kite in my lap.
Finally, I just couldn’t wait any longer and I began to rip the red wrapper off my kite. Back then, they didn’t come in nice little plastic bags as they do now. But all I could find were two sticks. That red wrapper I had been tearing off had been my kite. I didn’t know!
When Daddy finally came downstairs, I told him they had made a mistake and there was no kite in my package. He explained what I had done. He wasn’t mad at me just very disappointed in me for not being more patient and for having destroyed my kite. It was a couple of weeks before they finally got me a new one. That day I just got to watch as my Dad put my sister’s kite together and helped her to fly it. I helped them tear up pieces of an old sheet so that Daddy could make her a proper tail for her kite.
It was a wonderful sunny spring day to fly kites.
I watched. Lesson learned.