Bubbles in the Breeze

I saw a child near the beach today with her mother. She was holding a bubble gun, but it wasn’t working. At first, the girl looked sad and defeated. Her tiny face clouded with frustration, holding something meant to bring joy but offering only silence.

After a minute or two, her mum managed to clear the bubble gun and get it working. She handed it back to her daughter, who instantly held down the trigger with pure determination.

Bubbles spilled into the air—dozens of them—dancing in the sunlight, gliding on the breeze. Her face lit up with pure elation. Over something so simple. Something that, if we're honest, is still pretty magical even as adults—watching bubbles fly through the air, caught by the wind, each one taking its own course.

People passing by began to smile. Some even joined in, playing with the bubbles, laughing, engaging with the moment. It was beautiful. And it hit me then—life really is about the things that make us smile.

Even as adults, we need those moments. We need the things that lift us, however small. The happiness of that child in those fleeting seconds reminded me how free she was—untouched by worry, unaware of the world’s weight. No care in the world, just bubbles and joy. She squeezed the trigger tight, until there were no more bubbles left...

Sometimes, we tell children to “grow up” or that they “should know better by now,” forgetting that their innocence was never meant to challenge us. It wasn’t defiance. It wasn’t disrespect. It was simply a child being a child. Learning. Feeling. Being guided by the wind.

Because really, that’s what children are: delicate bubbles drifting through life. Fragile. Curious. Absorbing everything around them. Trying to understand, to please, to simply be.

And we were all like that once.

Today, I remembered that.

And I hope, in your own way, you do too.