The Shiny Red Ball
The Shiny Red Ball
An amazing and simple little story occurred over the past two weeks as I drove my 13 year old son to school each morning at 8:25 am. Simple observations that were lovingly shared during our regular morning drive to school and consecutively seemed to speak so many wonderful things. Think, wonder and smile.
Let me start by saying, I love driving my kids to school in the mornings. It's time that I have my young teenager's full attention, and he has mine. Our drive to school is full of conversation, stories, updates and music. It's connection time for each of us and time we look forward to every morning. The drive is only 15 minutes from driveway to schoolyard, but it is my favourite time of the day.
This little story starts on a really cold Monday morning with dark grey skies, crisp wind and a countryside of dirty white snow and yellow grass patchwork. It was a tired dull early spring day, our heater was on full, but blasting just above cool, and we were driving, bundled in coats, gloves and hats while shivering and hoping the car would quickly warm. We took our usual route down hilly roadways lined with country farm homes. The farms were staggered among small new bungalows, and as we approached town, many of the homes grew to be large, up-scale layouts with one or two glossy new cars sitting in the double lane paved driveways. As we slowed to the posted 60km/hr, my son pointed out his frosted window and with a quick double take, drew my attention to a large shiny red ball sitting close to the front door of the house. It was the typical ball of many childhoods; the bowling ball sized, rubber bouncy ball type that smells like sweet grass. It stood on the lawn of greys, standing out with evidence of youthful play in front of a beautiful 5 bedroom home and a brand new Tesla in the driveway. The backyard was littered with attractions that also stood out in the "blahs" of early March with an in-ground pool, playground structure and netted trampoline that was already prepared for use. The red ball absolutely stood out, and we both laughed and wondered at the age of the little ones who must have been excited by the melting snow and their eagerness to get outside. If a ball could be lonely, this one was.
The following morning, we repeated our routine, and discussed the latest news posts on our CBC 8:30 news update. It was an engaging conversation and I recall also having a chat about the use of sarcasm and when and who and how it's appropriate, if at all. And as we drove by the country homes, and slowed while approaching town, my son once again noticed the red ball. This time, it was in the shallow ditch in front of the home. Still as shiny as ever and still standing out in the dreary looking yard. We were surprised it was that close to the road because the house was built on an acre lot and sat deeply with a large front lawn. We wondered if the children in the home knew their ball was there, had played with it recently, or if maybe it had simply blown there in the recent winds. Again, it if a ball could be lonely, this one was.
There was never another thought given to that big brown house, those children that lived there or the bright shiny red ball. In fact, another week passed before it was feasible for me to drive my son to school. This time, there had been a fresh 5cm snow fall that blanketed the countryside, cleansing the land. Once again, our drive was amazing. We talked about his friends at school, the lives people live and families who live in poverty. It came up naturally as we learned about the "geared to income" proposals that were in the heat of news discussion. It was enlightening for both of us as we listened and chatted about all the perspectives. This time, as we entered town, I caught a glimpse of red in a field of white. It was the same red ball. It had travelled a short but distinct distance inside those seven days. It was two houses down, on the opposite side of the road and silently laying in the ditch. My son immediately asked me to stop the car. He wanted to retrieve that ball and take it back to the house it started, slipping it quietly by the front door. I didn't stop. We kept going. He was disappointed and believed those kids in the large brown house must be missing that ball. At the same time, we wondered together at how visible that ball was given the distance, but more specifically, why hadn't the family or the children rescued it? The wind had carried it far from home. This time, if a ball could be scared, this one was.
And so the story goes, the following day, the same drive, similar conversations with a chat about what kind of house we might afford if we move as selling our home was a current family topic. We talked about housing, prices, rental and how much we made. We talked about how lucky we were and how many great experiences we've had. My son was a little shocked at our combined family income as it related to the price and affordability of housing. What a teachable moment that was. We imagined incomes and affordability for housing sizes and material items like fancy cars. We passed the large brown house and noticed 4 sleds in the front yard and the footprints everywhere and a small collapsed snowman on the front lawn. This time, the red ball was spotted 5 houses down and still in the ditch with brown twigged bush and leaves blowing on top of the dirty snow. The ball was spotted with dirt and mud, but a shine could be seen. Again my son wanted to return the ball to its owners. Again I said no. I was in a hurry and it was cold outside. I thought it was a little strange that no one else had returned the red shiny ball, and no one from the children's family had come to bring it home. The wind had carried it far, far from home. If a ball could be sad, this one was.
Two days later, on a Friday morning we were heading to school once again. This time we were running late. Very late. A half hour behind to be precise. We were all tired, grumpy and unusually, quiet. No one was chatty at all. It was one of those days that the effects of damp, spring, weather changes made everyone feel sad, like they were constantly catching a flu bug or something. But, this day was kind of amazing. Interestingly, the clouds were moving quickly, and small glimpses of open blue sky flashed frequently with notes of a little hope. There was no sign of sunny skies just yet, but the promise of spring could be felt in the air. While the wind was still fierce that day, it had an edge of warmth each time it lifted. Change was evident. And on this day, we drove by the large brown house and noticed three children maybe ages 5 - 10yrs waiting for the bus, with their mother also there. They were spinning and getting themselves dizzy on their front lawn while their mother stood in the middle of them pretending to also spin, and laughing the whole time. We commented on how much fun they were having. As we continued driving another kilometer down the road, we came across a series of older small worn-down bungalows. They were in rough shape, needing paint, windows and new roofing. And, as we drove by one of those houses we saw a 4 year old child all alone and holding a red ball. It was our red ball. It had been wiped clean and the young child was playfully throwing it into the air, letting it fall and bounce behind her. She would quickly spin around to pick it up and the smile on her face was incredible. Her mother stood inside, wearing a robe and looking out the living room door. There were no cars in the driveway, no pool, no playground and no trampoline. I remember saying "Wow, that's our ball". My son said "Look she's so cute". And my son and I looked at each other and smiled. If a ball could be happy, safe and complete, this one was. Finally home.
CNK
