Walking through Central Park, we came upon the end of a photo shoot for Marshall’s and one of the cameramen offered my daughter a red balloon.  As she took the balloon and I tied it around her wrist, we saw just how big this balloon really was.  I hate the word ginormous, but really, there is no other word to describe it.

We continued walking through Central Park and the Upper Westside and the balloon led the way. The balloon was the celebrity; we were just entourage. Every single person that we passed commented on the balloon; either to us directly, to themselves or each other:

“What a huge balloon!”

“Look at that balloon!”

“Where did you get that huge balloon?”

“I’ve never seen a balloon that big!”

“What a big balloon for such a little girl.”

Or just, “Wow!”

Children were speechless and most wanted to touch it.  One of our favorite “wow” looks came from a dog. Everyone smiled or laughed. Of course we got many references to The Red Balloon and in a serendipitous bathroom stop at Barnes & Noble, we saw the book on display and bought a copy.

However, being in the presence of such greatness, wasn’t easy or without cost. We had to wrangle it into small doorways and make sure we didn’t topple product displays in stores. When we ate in narrow restaurants, we tied it up outside, anxiously watching from the window. Treetops and low awnings were our enemies.

But by now we realized that we were not just Balloon Handlers, but in fact Ambassadors of Joy. The task and subsequent lessons were not lost on us. We were given this simple, yet incredible balloon, not knowing how many people it would touch, and how much laughter it would bring on an ordinary Friday in New York City. Life is beautiful that way.

*The next morning we tied the balloon to a tree on 55th Street.  When we looked again a few hours later, the balloon was gone.