Children are kites

You spend a life time trying to get them off the ground. you run with them until you are breathless.They crash,they hit the roof top.You patch & comfort, adjust & teach.You watch them lifted by the wind & assured that some day they will fly.Finally, they are air born, they need more string & you keep letting it out, but with each twist there is a sadness that goes with joy. The kite become more distant and you know it wouldnot be long before that beautiful creature will snap the life line that binds you two together and will sour,free, alone.Only then do you know that you did your job.