One summer day when I was about nine, I visited my childhood best friend’s house with my other best friend. It was a get-together of the three families that we used to do a few times a year.
As soon as we arrived in the afternoon, we children started playing outside while adults went inside for tea and snacks. We first played dodge ball on the road in front of the house, then after a while, my friend suggested we could go to the park down the hill, called “triangle park.”
“Triangle park?” I exclaimed, my eyes sparkling with excitement. “That sounds so interesting! Let’s go!”
I grabbed the yellow ball we’d been playing with as we all left for the park. We skipped down the hill, and I bounced the ball hard on the ground. The yellow ball bounced back high in the air, reaching even higher than my head, as if it had its own life.
“Look, this ball is alive!” I shouted. “He’s so happy he cannot stop jumping! He’s my companion, Mr. Round!”
I was so delighted by the presence of my new “companion” that I kept bouncing the ball like crazy as we ran to the park.