She is the ball on the playground. Everyone wants to hold her, to play with her, to share her. Kids run with her and throw her to each other. They chase after her and claim she belongs to them. She is the ball wrapped in the six year-old’s arms – no edges to grasp at, so the girl squeezes her as tightly as she can, never letting go – a child embracing her beloved friend. The child loves her ball’s imperfections. Its divots remind the girl of the time she got in trouble for playing in the house; its dirty smudges bring back memories of her trip to the beach; its imperfections represent perfect times. One day the girl will become occupied with something else and look back on her childhood remembering her attachment to her ball, but until then her ball is the world – it won’t leave her sight on that playground.
She is the ball that bounces on all grounds. The grass is softer than the hard concrete that she is often subject to.  Sand isn’t bad, but when she hits it there’s almost always a shell hidden beneath the seemingly gentle surface. Dirt makes her upset, because she never feels clean when she bounces back off such an uneven and worn out road. Water is a strange “ground” to hit; usually she splashes among the shallows, but sometimes she submerges under water, even if just for a moment, and feels the pressure of everything around her pushing her down. She feels anxious when held above ground – she knows she is resilient, she’ll always bounce back, but she worries about the obstacles she’ll face before returning to the hands that dropped her.
She is the ball that people run their fingers over. Her smoothness makes her beautiful. She has no edges; just a well-rounded ball always trying to increase its shape. If she is used in yet another game maybe she will become more appreciated. Sometimes she finds herself deflated, needing someone to come around and give her a little air of encouragement. Sometimes she finds herself bent: some kid put her in a tree and now she has an indent imbedded in her skin. And sometimes she finds herself perfectly round…everyone wants to play with a firm, round, popular ball.
She is the ball that can be heard from a distance. The sound of her bounce, of laughter around her, of fun and excitement in the air, lingers wherever she is. Her shape is curved, a smile always present. Those around her never seem upset; she makes them happy, relieves their stress, and allows them to take things out on her. She can be thrown at the ground many times, but no rock will make her pop. Her voice carries through the air with every “thump” she makes.
She is the ball of a winning game, of success and joy; she is the ball of a losing game, or failure and defeat; she is the ball that sits in the corner, observing everything around her; she is the ball that never gets put down, always in motion; she is the ball that children cherish; she is the ball that has imperfections yet remains well-rounded; she is the ball that always bounces back; she is the ball that absorbs the impact of many things; she is the ball that can rely on always being caught; she is the ball that everyone knows. She is a ball.