A present for heaven
In the coming year, let’s recover faith in those things worthy of faith
The moment I pulled into our driveway, my daughter flew out of the car, her balloon bobbing along behind her. She raced in through the front door and out again into our back yard, slipped the string off her wrist, then watched her balloon rise into the sky and slowly drift away.
“Why did you let go of your balloon?” I asked, slightly miffed that she had so casually cast away the new toy she had been fussing over for the last half hour.
My daughter just shrugged, giggled, and watched the balloon disappear from sight.