PRINCESS BUTTERCUP'S KITE

Princess Buttercup’s Kite

Coffee with Jesus and Friends

March 22, 2025

Ah, the winds of March.

Poets, writers of fiction, prose and song have long found the winds of March to spark imagination and germinate into ideas to put their pens to paper. That there is a scientific reason why the March winds roar so loudly and firecely does not seem to damper the romance of March winds!. March is a season of transition between winter and the warmer seasons. Atmospheric instability occurs, caused by the increasing warmth of the sun heating the earth's surface. We learned in elementary school that warm air is lighter than cold air so it rises. It is a multifactorial process that leads to wind but in short,the contrast between the hotter air and the  cold air of winter causes the strong gusty winds we in the northern hemisphere identify as March winds. Just as in life, turbulence often comes with changes and transitions so too does the winds of change in March.

March brings so many traditional images to mind;  lion and lamb, green shamrocks and for many of us the archetype of kites. I’ve long been fascinated by kites! I remember as a child in the late 1950 and early 1960s, getting a kite kit in March or perhaps some other time in Spring, maybe at Easter. They most likely came from Grebner’s Store or Stadel’s Hardware. I would put it together and try to fly it on my own.

Before they were fashioned of more durable plastic in the mid1960s the kite kits of my childhood, for the most part, looked very much alike. They were fashioned of thin waxy paper with limited designs on their face. There was a cross piece of thin soft wood in the back to give the paper body of the kite something to which to attach for structure, and to provide stability while still being somewhat flexible to accommodate the fluctuations of air lifting the kite. There was a spindle of string, a strong cord to attach  to the frame of the kite, and instructions on how to form a tail for the kite to provide weight and balance to keep the kite aloft and from spinning out of control. I remember my creative side balking at the cookie cutter mostly monochromatic design of the kite and wanting to make mine somehow different.  I got in trouble for taking some of the ribbons meant for my sister’s beautiful curly locks to use as a colorful tail for my kite. Sheila, please forgive me!

As a child I felt that there was always something magical, mysterious and spiritual about seeing a kite flying high above the ground. I longed to fly with the kite, rising up from the mundane hard soil of the baseball field behind the elementary school/highschool of our small village in Illinois where my chubby legs pumped, feet pounding, on the dried mud as I strove to achieve lift off. I wondered, puzzled, why sometimes I could fly a kite but other times I would only get it lifted up into the air, only to have it come crashing down to the ground for a hard landing that sometimes crushed my kite beyond my ability to make  repairs. As an adult those broken kites have come to be a metaphor for some of my most difficult disappointments, shocking tragedies, bitter losses, my unfulfilled dreams and wishes. Yet even after each of these the wind returns again bringing more opportunities for my kite to soar, for me to rise again. Somewhere along the way as my knees no longer support running with a kite, kite flying has become more for me than a fun activity to observe. It is more than watching a kite fly; it has become a sort of a meditative experience bringing serenity and calm to a busy mind.  As the wind lifts a kite into the sky, we can feel a sense of release and detachment from our worries and stresses. In that moment we are immersed in the beauty of release and liberation from those earthly anchors that hold us back and hold us down.

In more recent years, in May 2000 while the world was all on lockdown because of Covid 19,  one of my fondest memories of kite flying came from flying a kite with my wheelchair dependent granddaughter, Princess Buttercup and her beautiful devoted mother, my daughter-in-law Kasey. Kasey held the kite until Princess Buttercup could gather enough speed and distance from the kite to make it lift into the wind. Just as my legs pounded the ground as a child, her arms worked hard at turning the wheels on her chair on the walkway behind her house, spinning them as fast as she could to get her kite off the ground. I wonder if she felt that same feeling of freedom and exhilaration as did I when my kite would lift? She was too young to express too many deep thoughts or emotions, but I know she had thoughts and emotions about the experience. I am so grateful I was there, present in her moment when she along with her kite, on her own soared even briefly. Isn’t that what we do in life? When we can not fly the kite, we cheer on and encourage others to persevere and give flight to their own kites? Sometimes we have to hand the kite to another to help us get it into the air, or pass the spindle to someone else we trust to keep our kite aloft and safe from destruction from a crash. 

Jesus I surrender the spindle of my kite to your hand and guidance. It is only through you I can truly rise again. Thank you Lord, I love you!