Bubbles

On a warm spring afternoon, the family all gathered for a party. Everyone was so excited to see each other; they all knew that it had been too long. People hugged each other for the first time in over a year and felt connected in a way that they may never take for granted again.

There was only one young child at this party. The other children had grown up and had not yet begun to have their own children. This one young girl felt all alone and longed for something to do in this sea of grownups.

Her mother felt sadness for her child, having no one to play with. She decided to fill a shallow bowl with some soapy water and grabbed a circular bubble wand that she had thrown in the back of her car. She asked her child if she wanted something to do. Her young daughter shook her head excitedly. Her mother placed the wand into the shallow bowl and lifted it out. The breeze did the rest. 

She ran through the bubbles trying to pop each and every one she came near. The giggles of childhood sang in the late spring afternoon. Her short brown hair bobbing up and down as she chased the circled soap. Her sandaled feet running through the grass.

“Do it again” she said over and over again.

Her mother filled the bubble wand with soap and lifted it out once more. The gentle wind blew again and did the work for her mother. Hundreds of tiny bubbles filled the air. Once again this beautiful brown-haired child chased the bubbles in hopes of catching one. In the distance, birds sang their songs of spring. The wind blew through the trees creating a dance to the birds’ song. The world seemed to rejoice with this young girl.

The mother and the daughter played like this for hours. A child’s giggle to sing with the birds’ songs, and the trees would dance right along with them.

“Bubbles” she would say. And bubbles she would have.

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