Ghadeer and the Kite over the Valley

In a small village clinging to the side of a green mountain, with houses of white stone and roofs of red tile, people waited every spring for the day of the kite festival. On that day a gentle wind blew up from the valley, and children and grown-ups climbed the grassy hill above the village to fly kites of every color and shape: kites shaped like fish, kites shaped like stars, and long-tailed ones like a friendly dragon. Ghadeer, who was eight, had made her kite herself with her grandfather, Abu Saleem: a kite shaped like a sunbird, with orange wings and a tail of blue and green ribbons that danced in the air.

Ghadeer climbed the hill with her cousin Tamim, who was carrying a square red kite, and with their grandfather, who walked with his wooden stick and carried a small bag on his back. "The wind is a bit strong today, children," said Grandpa. "Hold the string firmly and don't let it run through your fingers too fast." Ghadeer ran into the wind and let go of the kite, and it rose high, higher than the pine trees, higher than the village minaret, until it was an orange dot shining in the sun. "Look, Grandpa!" Ghadeer shouted. "My bird is flying higher than everyone's!"

But suddenly a strong gust of wind tugged hard on the string, and Ghadeer heard a little sound: snap! The string had broken. The sunbird flew free, swaying in the air and drifting away over the deep valley, then sinking lower and lower until it disappeared behind a distant hill on the other side. Ghadeer stood stunned with the broken string in her hand, then her eyes filled with tears. "My kite! We worked a whole week to make it!"

Tamim ran to the edge of the hill. "Let's go after it! I'll go straight down from here!" But Grandpa gently took his hand. "Wait, Tamim. A real adventure doesn't start with running; it starts with thinking. This slope is steep, and the stones slide." Then he took a small pair of binoculars from his bag, looked for a long time towards the other side, and said, "I can see something orange caught near the old shepherds' hut by the big oak tree. We can get there by the shepherds' trail. It's longer, but it's safe. Are you both ready to walk for a whole hour?" Wiping her tears, Ghadeer said, "I'm ready, Grandpa!" And Tamim said, "Me too!"

Before they set off, Grandpa told Ghadeer's mother and Tamim's father the plan and when they would be back. He filled the water bottle and put bread, cheese and some apples in his bag. Then he told the children, "This is the first rule for every adventurer: your family must know where you are going. The second rule: we always stay together. The third rule: we stay on the trail and don't leave it." Ghadeer and Tamim repeated the rules together, and the three of them set off along a narrow dirt trail that wound around the mountain like a brown ribbon, lined with red anemones and wild thyme that filled the air with its scent.

They walked a long way, and every now and then Grandpa stopped to show them small things: a wild rabbit's footprints in the dust, a sparrow's nest hidden in the branches of a hawthorn tree, and a rock with ancient seashells in it. "Shells, here, on top of a mountain?" said Ghadeer in surprise. "Scientists say this place was under the sea a very, very long time ago," said Grandpa. Ghadeer forgot her sadness a little and began to look around with wide eyes. "Grandpa, the long way has more things on it than the short way!"

At a bend in the trail they heard a weak sound: "Maa... maa..." Tamim looked between the rocks and saw a little white kid goat with black spots stuck between two stones, its leg caught in a thorny branch. The kid was trembling and crying sadly. "Poor thing! We have to get it out!" said Tamim. He wanted to jump towards it, but he remembered the rule and turned to his grandfather first. Grandpa smiled. "Well done, Tamim. Now we'll help it together."

Grandpa went closer quietly and told the children, "A frightened animal needs a calm voice. Talk to it, Ghadeer." Ghadeer sat near the kid and began to sing softly a song her grandmother used to sing to her. The kid calmed down a little and stopped struggling. Then Grandpa moved the thorny branch away with his stick, and Tamim gently freed the kid's leg from between the stones. The kid stood up, shook its ears and licked Ghadeer's hand, and she laughed. "It's thanking us! But where's its mother?"

"It must have wandered away from the shepherd's flock," said Grandpa. "The flock is probably near the old hut, where we're going." So Tamim carried the little kid in his arms, and the three of them went on. Soon they heard bells ringing, ding, ding, and saw a herd of goats grazing near the big oak tree, with a young shepherd calling anxiously and searching among the rocks. When he saw the kid in Tamim's arms, he ran to them. "Thank goodness! This is Sukkar, the youngest kid in the herd. I've been looking for him since the morning!" As soon as Tamim set him down, the kid ran to his mother and skipped around her happily.

"How can I thank you?" said the shepherd. "We're looking for an orange kite shaped like a bird," said Ghadeer. The shepherd laughed. "Do you mean that strange bird that landed from the sky on the roof of my hut an hour ago? At first I thought it was a real bird!" He climbed a short wooden ladder and carefully brought the sunbird down from the roof. One of the tail ribbons was torn and there was a small hole in one wing, but the kite was almost whole. Ghadeer hugged her kite to her chest. "We found you!"

They all sat under the oak tree and ate the bread, cheese and apples, and the shepherd shared fresh milk with them. Then Grandpa took a needle, thread and tape out of his bag, because he always carried them; a wise adventurer is ready for anything. Together they mended the hole and tied up the torn ribbon, and the shepherd tied a small white ribbon of sheep's wool to the tail. "This is a keepsake from Sukkar," he said, "to thank you every time the kite flies."

On the way back the sun was setting and painting the valley gold. "I wanted to go straight down the slope," said Tamim. "If I had, I might have fallen, and we'd never have found Sukkar." "The path we choose wisely sometimes leads us to beautiful things we weren't looking for," said Grandpa. They reached the village exactly when they had promised, and their families welcomed them happily and heard the whole story. The next day the sunbird flew again over the hill, its tail fluttering with blue and green ribbons and the little white one, and Ghadeer held the string steadily, her hand in her grandfather's.

Ghadeer and Tamim learned that a good adventure doesn't mean running towards danger. It means thinking before you move, telling your family, staying together and lending a hand to anyone who needs it along the way, and that patience sometimes gives back what we thought we had lost, together with a gift we never expected.