I AM FLYING A KITE

It was Timothy's twelfth birthday. He had saved up enough money to buy himself a present.
Nickels, dimes, and quarters- he went to neighborhood store, put his change on the counter, and
-wonder of wonders- had exactly the right amount to buy the big red kite on the wall behind the cash register. The happiest kid in the world, he went to Van Cort Landth Park in the Bronx and
began to fly his new kite.
There were great winds that day, and he let out some string, and a little more string, and
a little more, until the kite was so high and far away you couldn't even see it anymore. When you
looked at the boy, all you could see was a happy kid running with string in his hand.
A very respectable and rational- looking man in a business suit came upon the boy and
stoped him. "son, what are you doing?" he asked-
"What do you mean, sir?" Timothy asked. "I'm flying a kite!"
" flying a kite? what do you mean? I don't see a kite. You don't see a kite. How do you know there's a kite?" Timothy looked at a man very gravely. "I know there's a kite sir-
because I can feel the tug!"



REFERENCE:SOUL PRINT BY MARC GAFNI