Once upon a time there was a little rubber ball that lived in a broken box with sharp jagged edges. Every time the little ball bounced, it got bruised, but that didn’t stop it from bouncing because that’s what rubber balls do.
One day the little ball bounced so high that it bounced right out of the box and into a strong new box with a lid. The ball was happy.
It grew stronger and stronger everyday until one day it grew so strong that it jumped right out of the box-with-the-lid and bounced away.
It bounced on the land and it bounced in the sea.
It bounced higher and higher, and higher, until one day it bounced right up into the sky and landed among the stars.
When it looked down, it saw boxes, millions of boxes – some with lids, some without, some broken, some fixed. It looked down and sighed, a long deep sigh, realizing that boxes were not made to bounce.
Selma Tufail 
Uauuuuuu! It’s a very interesting story! and really it’s true. Sometimes we have to move away to realizing about the sense of our life. 😉
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Thank you, Eduardo, I think (hope) that the more one travels, the broader one’s field of vision becomes.
The boxes represent the way humans organize and compartmentalize their understanding of life in different communities – but life doesn’t really follow such organizations…
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i really enjoyed this short story. I am working with kindergardeners and elementary school, and I know they love it. i can see this as one of the stories i would read to them. thanks for sharing.
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My pleasure, Gerard, I’m so glad you liked the story.
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