Friday, January 10, 2014

The Flying Man

 He took in as much helium as his lungs could hold. He inhaled and he inhaled and he drew the helium deep into his lungs. And those lungs could hold a powerful lot of helium.

And sure enough...up he rose.

With his lungs full of helium he could float on air and he could fly around a room.

And people would look up at him and cheer, "Look at the flying man!" And they'd smile. They'd hire the flying man for parties and he'd fly around their houses. And the people would clap as he floated by. 


He got surprised looks from folks as he floated by airplanes. But they’d see him smile and they’d smile back and through their little airplane windows they’d wave at the flying man.

"But he talks funny." That's what he started to hear.

So he didn’t talk. He didn’t care for the criticism. Anyway, talking was a waste of good helium. He just flew. That’s what he liked to do. And that’s what people liked about him.

But eventually the helium leaked out. Helium does that. Helium is hard to hold and it can’t be contained permanently. One day he found that he could only float limply just above the ground. Then, finally, he came to rest on a park bench. No longer the flying man.

And there he sat on the park bench, dejected. His flying days were over.

A young girl who happened to be playing on a nearby swing set, hopped off her swing and walked over to the no-longer-flying man. “What’s the matter? Why do you look so sad?” she asked.

“Because I used to fly and now I can’t” he answered.

At the sound of the no-longer-flying man’s voice, the young girl got a big smile on her face. “Has anyone ever told you what a beautiful voice you have?