One windy spring day, I observed young people having fun using the wind to fly their kites. Multicolored creations of varying shapes and sizes filled the skies like beautiful birds darting1 and dancing. As the strong winds gusted2 against the kites, a string kept them in check.
Instead of blowing away with the wind, they arose against it to achieve great heights. They shook and pulled, but the restraining string and the cumbersome3 tail kept them in tow, facing upward and against the wind. As the kites struggled and kept them in tow, facing upward and against the wind. As the kites struggled and trembled against the string, they seemed to say," Let me go! Let me go! I want to be free!" they soared beautifully even as they fought the restriction4 of the string. Finally, one of the kites succeeded in breaking loose. "Free at last," it seemed to say. "Free to fly with the wind."
Yet freedom from restraint simply put it at the mercy of an unsympathetic breeze. It fluttered ungracefully to the ground and landed in a tangled5 mass of weeds and string against a dead bush. "Free at last", free to lie powerless in the dirt, to be blown helplessly along the ground, and to lodge6 lifeless against the first obstruction7.
How much like kites we sometimes are. The heaven gives us adversity and restrictions8, rules to follow from which we can grow and gain strength. Restraint is a necessary counterpart to the winds of opposition9. Some of us tug10 at the rules so hard that we never soar to reach the heights we might have obtained. We keep part of the commandment and never rise high enough to get our tails off the ground.