I found this story that I wrote about 2 years ago or so and I decided I liked it, so I thought I would share it =) I wrote it before going to Moldova, but now I think it's funny because Zece actually means 10 in Romanian. Hmmm
There was once a very rich man whose job was to sell balloons. This man’s balloons were very beautiful with paintings on them that could bring your soul alive. Everyday he would walk around the town with a carefully selected batch and sell them to very rich children. However, this story is not about the man or even about his balloons. This story is about Zece, a poor servant boy who worked for the very rich balloon man.
Every night when the rich man came home to his fancy house he put his balloons in a very cold room (cold air is very good for balloons). Zece was hired to watch the balloons at night and make sure that none of them popped and that nobody stole them. The rich man did not trust Zece though, because he was a servant boy, so every night, along with the balloons, the rich man locked Zece in the room with a key that only worked from the outside. In that room, Zece would lay on the hard cold floor protecting the balloons from any harm. He would separate them and choose which balloons would be taken the next day. He would hold each one so that it felt loved. He cared for them with great delicacy and dedication, and even though he was only paid 5 pennies for every night he spent in the room, Zece worked as hard as he could. And in the mornings when the rich man unlocked the door, Zece would say a prayer for the balloons that were to enter the world that day.
During the day Zece would wander the streets of the city looking for food others left behind or small jobs that needed to be done. Once in a while, when he was out and about, he would see one of his balloons with a child and his heart would soar! He always smiled and waved. The children thought he was silly, or even dangerous because they did not know him, but he did not mind. It was not them that he was waving to (even though they often thought he was).
One day while roaming the streets Zece saw a little girl with one of his precious balloons. As soon as it caught his eye, he began to smile and wave, but quickly stopped himself. The little girl who was holding the balloon was tugging it and hitting it as she walked along. Zece did not like to see the balloons, which were the only things in his life he had to protect and care for, being treated so crudely. Quickly and quietly, Zece began to follow the little girl.
It soon became apparent that the little girl cared very little for the balloon. As she followed her father through the streets of the city, she whined and pouted. She seemed quite angry and she appeared to be venting her frustrations on Zece’s precious balloon. Finally, he had seen enough, and Zece decided that he must steal the balloon back.
He followed the little girl to her home and watched her as she went upstairs to a bedroom. Zece climbed a nearby tree and hid himself among the branches. He waited for quite a while there, sitting quietly perched upon a branch. The sun was moving lower and lower in the sky and Zece was worried that if he stayed much longer he might be too late for the rich man to allow him to work that night. Still, he waited, and finally the little girl left the room. Zece seized his chance and went to the window, which he pried open easily. He hopped into the room, grabbed the balloon and turned to leave when the little girl re-appeared.
“Hey!” She shouted, and Zece stood frozen. If he had been a normal street boy, he would have known to run, but being so pure of heart he found that his feet could not move.
“What are you doing in my bedroom and why do you have my balloon?” the little girl asked. She was not shouting anymore, which Zece was grateful for because he was worried her father might hear her and come running.
Zece paused a moment and considered telling the girl a lie, but the words did not come quickly enough, and the truth spilled out.
“I am the poor servant boy who cares for the balloons every night. I sleep on a hard cold floor, for barely enough money to buy a bite of bread during the day, but still I come every night to the home of the rich man to care for his balloons. I love them dearly, and when I saw you in the street today dragging and hitting your balloon, I was very upset. I followed you to your home because I wanted to protect it.”
The little girl was stunned, she had not expected the boy to answer her at all, much less give her an answer that demonstrated compassion. She instantly knew that she trusted Zece and felt shame for the way that she had treated the balloon when she was angry.
“I’m sorry boy, I was very sad today because my father bought me this balloon out of bribery, not out of love. To me it was a symbol of how unimportant I am to him. He only got it for me because he wanted me to be quiet as I came with him on some errands. I wish I had someone who cared for me as much as you care for your balloons.” She added sadly.
“I care for the balloons” said Zece, “but they also care for me. In the night when I am all alone, I have their beautiful stories to keep me company. I don’t even mind being locked in the room all night, because during the time I am with them I feel like the richest boy in all the world. And when I wander the streets during the day, they always find me and remind me of the hope I have. In caring for them I have found that I have been taken care of too. Though I had to give up my freedom at night, the chance of warmth, and even fair wages I have been given hope. Please take care of my balloon” said Zece, and he scrambled back out the window and disappeared into the darkening city.
That night the little girl who was angry and hurt experienced a transformation of the heart. She knew that in order to ever feel loved she must start giving love away freely. The next day she searched for the boy, but could not find him anywhere, so early in the afternoon, when she returned to her house she hung her warmest blanket outside of her bedroom window on the tree branch. When she returned, the blanket was gone, and in it’s place was a beautiful new string for her balloon. Each day after that she left the boy some food that she saved from her own meals on her windowsill. She kept hoping that she would meet with the boy again, but he never seemed to appear when she was present.
Finally, one day, the children met on the street. They did not speak or embrace, but they waved like old friends, smiling at one another and passing on hope. And the little girl felt dearly loved by the boy who cared for the balloons, and the boy felt peace at knowing that the little girl cared for things now, the way he had always hoped that she would.
The End
There was once a very rich man whose job was to sell balloons. This man’s balloons were very beautiful with paintings on them that could bring your soul alive. Everyday he would walk around the town with a carefully selected batch and sell them to very rich children. However, this story is not about the man or even about his balloons. This story is about Zece, a poor servant boy who worked for the very rich balloon man.
Every night when the rich man came home to his fancy house he put his balloons in a very cold room (cold air is very good for balloons). Zece was hired to watch the balloons at night and make sure that none of them popped and that nobody stole them. The rich man did not trust Zece though, because he was a servant boy, so every night, along with the balloons, the rich man locked Zece in the room with a key that only worked from the outside. In that room, Zece would lay on the hard cold floor protecting the balloons from any harm. He would separate them and choose which balloons would be taken the next day. He would hold each one so that it felt loved. He cared for them with great delicacy and dedication, and even though he was only paid 5 pennies for every night he spent in the room, Zece worked as hard as he could. And in the mornings when the rich man unlocked the door, Zece would say a prayer for the balloons that were to enter the world that day.
During the day Zece would wander the streets of the city looking for food others left behind or small jobs that needed to be done. Once in a while, when he was out and about, he would see one of his balloons with a child and his heart would soar! He always smiled and waved. The children thought he was silly, or even dangerous because they did not know him, but he did not mind. It was not them that he was waving to (even though they often thought he was).
One day while roaming the streets Zece saw a little girl with one of his precious balloons. As soon as it caught his eye, he began to smile and wave, but quickly stopped himself. The little girl who was holding the balloon was tugging it and hitting it as she walked along. Zece did not like to see the balloons, which were the only things in his life he had to protect and care for, being treated so crudely. Quickly and quietly, Zece began to follow the little girl.
It soon became apparent that the little girl cared very little for the balloon. As she followed her father through the streets of the city, she whined and pouted. She seemed quite angry and she appeared to be venting her frustrations on Zece’s precious balloon. Finally, he had seen enough, and Zece decided that he must steal the balloon back.
He followed the little girl to her home and watched her as she went upstairs to a bedroom. Zece climbed a nearby tree and hid himself among the branches. He waited for quite a while there, sitting quietly perched upon a branch. The sun was moving lower and lower in the sky and Zece was worried that if he stayed much longer he might be too late for the rich man to allow him to work that night. Still, he waited, and finally the little girl left the room. Zece seized his chance and went to the window, which he pried open easily. He hopped into the room, grabbed the balloon and turned to leave when the little girl re-appeared.
“Hey!” She shouted, and Zece stood frozen. If he had been a normal street boy, he would have known to run, but being so pure of heart he found that his feet could not move.
“What are you doing in my bedroom and why do you have my balloon?” the little girl asked. She was not shouting anymore, which Zece was grateful for because he was worried her father might hear her and come running.
Zece paused a moment and considered telling the girl a lie, but the words did not come quickly enough, and the truth spilled out.
“I am the poor servant boy who cares for the balloons every night. I sleep on a hard cold floor, for barely enough money to buy a bite of bread during the day, but still I come every night to the home of the rich man to care for his balloons. I love them dearly, and when I saw you in the street today dragging and hitting your balloon, I was very upset. I followed you to your home because I wanted to protect it.”
The little girl was stunned, she had not expected the boy to answer her at all, much less give her an answer that demonstrated compassion. She instantly knew that she trusted Zece and felt shame for the way that she had treated the balloon when she was angry.
“I’m sorry boy, I was very sad today because my father bought me this balloon out of bribery, not out of love. To me it was a symbol of how unimportant I am to him. He only got it for me because he wanted me to be quiet as I came with him on some errands. I wish I had someone who cared for me as much as you care for your balloons.” She added sadly.
“I care for the balloons” said Zece, “but they also care for me. In the night when I am all alone, I have their beautiful stories to keep me company. I don’t even mind being locked in the room all night, because during the time I am with them I feel like the richest boy in all the world. And when I wander the streets during the day, they always find me and remind me of the hope I have. In caring for them I have found that I have been taken care of too. Though I had to give up my freedom at night, the chance of warmth, and even fair wages I have been given hope. Please take care of my balloon” said Zece, and he scrambled back out the window and disappeared into the darkening city.
That night the little girl who was angry and hurt experienced a transformation of the heart. She knew that in order to ever feel loved she must start giving love away freely. The next day she searched for the boy, but could not find him anywhere, so early in the afternoon, when she returned to her house she hung her warmest blanket outside of her bedroom window on the tree branch. When she returned, the blanket was gone, and in it’s place was a beautiful new string for her balloon. Each day after that she left the boy some food that she saved from her own meals on her windowsill. She kept hoping that she would meet with the boy again, but he never seemed to appear when she was present.
Finally, one day, the children met on the street. They did not speak or embrace, but they waved like old friends, smiling at one another and passing on hope. And the little girl felt dearly loved by the boy who cared for the balloons, and the boy felt peace at knowing that the little girl cared for things now, the way he had always hoped that she would.
The End
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