A Lovely Place To Be
Don't just fly. Soar high. - Anonymous
If I flew on a helicopter I would visit... my grandma's house.
Such is the inscription on Second Granddaughter's pre-school art project that leaves a lump in my throat every time I look at it.
It is my favorite page among her stuff that I've compiled through the years and put together in a folio album.
A lone, blue helicopter tinged with a red tail dominates the space. Rotating propellers made of popsicle sticks enable the aircraft to navigate quietly across a sky that is huge and high and impossibly blue.
Overhead, a fat, white, slow-moving cotton ball cloud floats across the horizon. A solitary, gnarled wisp trailing behind seems to say, Wait up.
In anticipation, a stick person peers through the copter's bubble window.
What an endearing work! It has filled a space in my heart that I never knew was empty.
Of course, dear child, when you do come, it will be the loveliest place for you and me to be.
But know that you won't need a helicopter to fly high. Your wings already exist. All you have to do is make the leap.
Soar high.
Touch the sky.
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