An Incident In Early Spring On The Highway Of Pilgrims Poem by Daniel Brick

The overcrowded bus tumbled down
the highway under a pale blue March sky.
All of us passengers, friends or strangers,
had been traveling through the night,
and we were a quiet group, weary from
miles of rough roads and cramped seats.
I was reading without much interest
the latest novel of a famous writer.
But I was distracted by a child,
three rows ahead, watching me intently.
His face was calm and gentle; there was
no guile in his gaze. I turned away and
and tried to read my book. I was startled
when the child was suddenly standing next
to my seat, talking casually like an adult.
But he was holding the thread of a balloon
of many colors, which tugged the thread,
anxious to ascend. "Lady, " he began,
"You look sad, so I'm giving you my balloon
which made me happy last night." Surprised,
I replied, "Oh, thank you, but I can't take
your balloon away from you." He replied quickly.
"You're not taking it, I'm giving it. My grandfather
told me, When you're happy, Ivan, give a piece of
that happiness to someone else. You don't need
all of it. So, here's your balloon." And he deftly
wrapped the thread around my left wrist. "Now both
of us will be happy. My grandfather told me about
sharing happiness, but he said it was grandmother
who told him. So, I guess, grandmother was the real
angel, because no one told her. She just knew."
He squeezed in next to me. "Lady, do you believe in
angels? " And I responded immediately because he was
so sincere. "Yes, I very much believe in angels."
He looked satisfied, and was quiet for awhile.
"Lady, I have special dreams about people, and
last night in my dream I saw the two of you,
standing very close together, and there were tears
in the eyes of both of you." I was speechless, but I
knew he was telling the truth. "Lady, just because
you don't see him at this moment doesn't mean he
isn't here. Time is really big, he might be lost in it,
but he will see the balloon when you launch it."
He smiled silently, then ran back to his family, and
they got off the bus. I wanted to wave to him, but he
was talking to his younger siblings. The bus lurched on.

I reached my destination, and it seemed secondary.
I walked alonga grassy lane, under a late afternoon
sun, came to a small lake lined with trees just beginning
to bud, and, after saying a brief prayer, released
the many-colored balloon. It leaped into the air,
a breeze up there caught it and it tumbled around,
but then broke free and rose up and up, into a flash
of light that hurt my eyes. Now the balloon was free,
even of my eyes. Now I had to trust the air, the wind,
the sky... Oh, my friend, a child has blessed us.