The one that got away

Years ago, I pulled into a parking space at my local megamart one afternoon. I got lucky. Not only did I find a close spot, but I was able to pull through to the spot in front of it so I wouldn't have to back out when I left.

Across the row, a young mother was unloading groceries into the back of her car. Her toddler, maybe 18 months or two years, was sitting peacefully in the cart seat, an unusual thing for a child his age. A "Happy Birthday" balloon was tied to the cart handle. It looked like the mom was anticipating a celebration.

As she busied herself with the groceries, the balloon came loose. It soared quickly into the air, or I might have tried to jump out and catch it, but that was impossible, so I just watched. Without a noise, the toddler solemnly lifted his head and tracked the balloon with his eyes until it was just a tiny spot in the sky.

Eventually, the mother turned her attention to taking the child from the cart. As she did, she realized the balloon was missing. She quickly looked around. Perhaps she thought some selfish human had grabbed it, or maybe she hoped it had come loose, but then become snagged somewhere where she could easily retrieve it. Realizing that wasn't the case, she looked at the baby. He casually glanced back up at the sky.

Following his eyes, the mother looked up as well. By then, the balloon was nearly invisible, blending into the atmosphere, but just present enough for her to spot it. She looked back down at the little boy, rolled her eyes, and shook her head, then got him settled into his car seat and drove away.

I've always wondered what was running through the child's mind as he watched the balloon escape. Was he concerned? I doubt it. He wasn't old enough to realize the importance of keeping it safely tethered to some chair at a birthday party to honor its recipient. I figured he had experienced some other thought or feeling—that of wonder or amazement as this living object (in his eyes) was able to free itself of the cart and soar high into the sky, off to epic adventures in another galaxy.

My only regret that day was one I often have—I didn't have a camera to catch the scene in pictures as it unfolded. As someone said, often "a picture is worth a thousand words." It would have been a fun series of photos, and surely a more vivid way to tell the story of this freed balloon.

It was the one that got away.