It’s the height of Summer. A gentle breeze is playing with my hair and hovering over a nearby clump of flowers, is a beautiful butterfly. There are a handful of people at the park with the lake, and Mom and Dad are sitting at the picnic table with me. Lunch was great, but now that they’ve eaten, they want to go home. But I don’t want to! I want to explore. This place looks fun.

Mom looks at Dad, “Honey, I need to go home and start cleaning for the guest we’ll have over for dinner later. Why don’t you watch Jessica, and come home in an hour or two?”

Dad nods sleepily all too content to stay in the warm, lulling sunshine with the birds chirping through the wind-rustled leaves. Mom gets up and scoops me up for a mother-like hug, and then continues to pack the lunch and return home.

“Daddy!” I tug at his shirt sleeve and he gazes blearily down at me.

“What is it, darling?”

“I want to watch that butterfly.” I point to the butterfly that is now making its way to the deserted bridge over the lake flittering like a small flame over the vast waters. Watching it stirs something inside of me and I realize I want to fly like that butterfly, roaming around without a care in the world. Dad yawns.

“Alright, just stay close by.”

“Haaaaaaaaai,” I grin up at him, but he misses it. His eyes are already closed and his breathing is evening out. I don’t waste a second thought on him and tumble after the butterfly, imagining I am one too, or a fairy! Fairies are even better and I spread my ten-year-old arms out like wings and dance along trailing the little butterfly.

The few families that are there with us are busy laughing and talking and the children exploring. I am alone, but I don’t mind. I have my butterfly. I clamber onto the bridge and make my way across. As I get farther out, I realize I’m wandering a little too far off for Daddy’s comfort (if he even noticed I was out here which he didn’t because he was sleeping). But, I reasoned, I’d be back before he woke up, so it didn’t really matter that I was wondering farther from searching eyes.

That’s when I saw him. A small boy. He was probably a little older than me, I think. He was wearing clothes too big for his small, slender frame. His hair was wild and matted. He had just finished hoisting himself up onto the railing of the bridge and looked for a moment, I thought, like my butterfly. He had his arms spread wide like he was going to leap up and fly into the heavens. It looked like fun…but I was old enough to know one thing. Humans couldn’t really fly. Except in airplanes.

“Hi!” I called to the boy. He turned around slowly and saw me smiling up at him, but he didn’t smile back. I thought that was rude of him, but I decided to let the boy in on the fact that he shouldn’t try to jump anyway.

“I hope you know that you can’t fly.” I stated solemnly. The wind blew a few strands of hair in my face and I brushed them away impatiently.

“Huh?” the boy asked furrowing his brow at me like I had said something weird.

“I said, you can’t fly,” I repeated pointing to his outspread arms, “So I wouldn’t jump if I were you. You’ll only fall.”

“That’s the point,” the boy mumbled almost too low for me to hear, but I did.

“Why do you want to jump in?” I asked. He didn’t have a swimsuit on, and the bridge was awfully high up.

“You wouldn’t understand,” the boy snapped irritated that I had interrupted him, “There are times when you’re just too tired. I can tell you have no idea what that means, but for someone like me, I know a lot about it. I have been too tired for too long. I thought I could handle this life, but I’m weak. I thought I could make it, but I’m too tired of living.”

It was then that my young, innocent mind grasped the seriousness of what this boy was going to do. He wasn’t going for a swim, or trying to fly. He was going to die. In horror, I responded on instinct racing up and grabbing his shirt to pull him back down.

The boy gave a startled yelp as I pulled him off balance and he fell on top of me. I hit my head hard on the planks and in my breath tightly through my teeth.

“What did you do that for?” the boy turned and yelled at me. I flinched away.

“Mind your own business!” he growled.

He looked like he was going to try again, so I got up, turned him around even though he was a good four inches taller than me, and putting all my strength into it, I slapped him as hard as I could.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” I yelled back, “You think killing yourself will solve anything? You baka!” (I’d learned that word-baka -from my dad and had always wanted to use it; but I never thought I would use it in a situation like this.)

“What do you know?” the boy looked angry, but his tone had softened and he was looking at me instead of ignoring me. That was a good sign. I noticed he had dirt smudged all over him and that he looked quite malnourished. I frowned at the pitiful condition he was in. What had life done to him that he was in this condition, ready to end everything?

“I know,” I said fiercely, “that there are terrible things in this world. But there is also a lot of good things. I’ve seen it. It’s out there for everyone, even you. But if you die now, you’ll never get to see it. You’ll never get to experience all those opportunities, and someone else will come along, and take what was meant for you instead because you won’t be there for it!” I had never been more desperate to convince someone to do, or in this case not to do something, in my life. I don’t know where the words came from, but once they started flowing out of me, they just wouldn’t stop.

“Easy for you to say.” the boy had lost his angry look, and now, he just looked hollow, pitiful, hopeless. It hurt my heart, “I can tell you know what happiness it. But I’ve never had it. Not once. How do you know happiness will ever come to me? It might not. Then what?”

I furrowed my brow as I thought about what he’d just said. Then I had an idea. “I know!” I said brightening, “I’ll be your first happiness.”

“What?” the boy asked taken aback.

“I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you find a lot of happiness, so that you can know what it feels like too! Come on.” I grabbed the boy’s hand, and started dragging him back across the bridge until I was standing back in front of Dad.

“Daddy, I want to go to the restaurant we went to yesterday with my new friend. Can I have some money?”

Dad glanced at us without really seeing. He acted more on autopilot than because he knew what was going on, as he dug into his pocket and handed me some money.

“Be safe Jessica.” he mumbled.

“Of course,” I grinned up at the boy, and then proceeded to take him to a restaurant a few blocks away. It didn’t have many people in it, because it was on the outskirts of the city. But it had the best ramen you’d ever eaten in your life. The boy sat uncertainly on the edge of his seat as though he wasn’t sure if he was in a dream, or if being my friend could even be real or not.

The waitress came over and asked me what I wanted. “Hot chocolate and ramen,” I replied instantly. At the boy’s incredulous look, I grinned and said, “When Dad took me here with Mom last time, we ordered it. It was really good too. Don’t knock it till you try it!” It was a phrase Mom said constantly when I decided to be picky about food and so saying “Don’t knock it till you try it,” to this boy had me laughing in delight.

The boy nodded and gave me a small smile before turning to the waitress and mumbling softly, “…Um…I’ll have the same as her.” Nodding, and staying professional (not letting the weirdness of the order show in her expression), she jotted them down on her pad and left.

Hot chocolate and ramen had never been so delicious. Eating with the right person, can make all the difference in the world. The boy inhaled his food. I could tell he needed it. He must have been starving. I took a few bites of mine, but I had just eaten lunch and was quite honestly stuffed. So when the boy finished, I handed him my order too. With a hasty “thanks”, he wolfed down that portion as well.

When he finally had finished, he sat back with a glow on his face and a flushed, healthy color spreading across his cheeks.

After we ate, we headed back out again and he began to gain a little confidence. He started to show me fun places to play hide and seek, and showed me where all the vendors sold the coolest toys. He grabbed my hand and led me through mazes of people as we explored the area. He even smiled and once I even made him laugh.

“Are you happy now?” I asked him hopefully.

“Yes. I am. Very happy.” The boy replied squeezing my hand in his. I felt warm all over and glowed with happiness too.

“You see? This is what you’ll miss out on if you die,” I told him, “So you have to promise me you won’t ever do that again.” We swore as children did, with a pinky promise.

“Now that you know what happiness is,” I continued, “You can grow up to give it to other people. I think it will be more meaningful if it came from you, because you know both sides of happy and sad. You can really make a difference and make others happy too.”

The boy’s smile faded, and his gigantic dropping sleeve slipped off his shoulder. He shrugged it back on impatiently and looked at me seriously. “Do…I make you happy?” he asked.

I looked around us at all the delights and wonders of the small street market that he had shown me that I would never have seen if I had just been with my parents. I turned back to him and with sincerity in my tone, replied, “Yes. Very.” His answering grin had me skipping away and he rushed to catch up with me. He tripped a few times in his too-tight shoes, but we played tag until we made it back to the park with the lake.

Dad had just woken up, and luckily, hadn’t noticed my absence. “Daddy,” I called, “I made a friend. But he doesn’t have a Mom and Dad to come home to. Can you help him?” (I knew he had no family because I asked him, and he’d told me.) The boy gazed up at my Dad in embarrassment. Apparently, he didn’t want my Dad’s pity or charity, but he had no choice. My Dad who had a soft heart, took in the boy’s pitiful condition and his heart swelled. Once my Dad saw that he could help, nothing would stop him.

“Sure honey,” he patted my head and turned to the boy, “You can stay with us tonight, son. And tomorrow, we’ll help you get some help.”

“He means we’ll help get you happiness,” I whispered to him behind Dad’s back and he grinned.

“I’ve had more happiness today than I’ve ever had before,” he whispered back looking at me seriously again. Was he trying to tell me something else? I wasn’t sure, but we followed Dad on our walk home. It was beautiful and with my new friend, it was even more beautiful.

My mother had a softer heart than my Dad. When she saw the boy, she teared up and gave him a suffocating hug. He looked slightly uncomfortable, but also touched. He glanced at me as if to ask what he was supposed to do. I just nodded encouragingly at him and after a moment, he hugged her back tentatively, then tightly.

Mom got him a bath ready, and while he was in the tub, Dad and I helped Mom finish cleaning the house for some guest they were going to have for dinner, then Mom hurried to a nearby store and purchased new clothes for the boy.

She left them for him inside the bathroom, and when he emerged, hair dripping straggly into his eyes, in better (but still not perfect) fitting clothes, I realized that he was actually good looking. He had fine, penciled eyebrows, and prominent cheekbones. His well-toned skin glistened from the water-droplets that clung to it.

“Well don’t you look nice,” I said bluntly. He blushed and shyly ducked his head. My parents laughed at our little exchange.

There was a knock at the door and my parents answered. There was our guest! Mrs. Kamenashi had come. She was one of mom’s old friend’s from college, and the two hadn’t seen each other since college days. They were both as polite as could be according to the Japanese culture, and while there was no hugging, or crying, it was quite obvious that the two were happy to see each other.

Over dinner, Mrs. Kamenashi and Mom got caught up on years of their lives that they’d missed. Mom was heartbroken to find out that Mrs. Kamenashi was barren; that is she had a medical condition that wouldn’t allow her to have children. It had pained her husband and herself, “But,” she informed Mom and Dad, “Starting next week, my husband gets a short holiday from work, and we will begin looking for a child to adopt.”

Mom glanced at the little boy who wasn’t paying attention to anything except his food, and proceeded to tell Mrs. Kamenashi about what had happened today regarding the boy. Mrs. Kamenashi looked surprised, and then happy as she surveyed the young boy.

“Kamenashi-san,” Dad said, “Would you be interested in taking this young boy in? He desperately needs a home, and even more than that, he needs love.”

The boy had finished his rice, and heard the last bit. He stared at the woman who could possibly become his mother and then said cooly to Dad, “I don’t need a home, or love even. I just need happiness.” And he looked pointedly at me.

“But, young man,” Daddy smiled gently at him, “Love is happiness.”

The boy turned back to him, “Love is?” he asked.

Simultaneously everyone in the room nodded, even me. Daddy had a point, I conceded.

“Friends love each other,” I clarified for him, so in a different way, having a friend is love and love is happiness.”

“Would you want to be my son?” Mrs. Kamenashi asked the boy with a small light of hope in her eyes. The boy looked at her, and then looked at me again. Turning back to her, he gave a small nod, and it was settled just like that. Mrs. Kamenashi embraced him like Mommy sometimes embraced me and I saw love begin between them. I saw happiness.

Mrs. Kamenashi left quickly after dinner, in order to inform her husband, and to get the house ready to receive another member of the family; she also had to get paperwork filled out that would allow her to adopt the boy with the questionable past.

Mom had questioned him about his past before Mrs. Kamenashi had come over, and even asked Dad and me to leave, since the boy might not want to talk about a horrible past in front of an audience. However, the boy had said nothing, or at lease he’d refused to say anything.

It was decided. The little boy would spend the night at our house, before leaving with Mrs. Kamenashi the next day. We shared a futon, since there were only three and we slept next to a window. Looking out at the stars, I believed we were looking into a bit of heaven.

“You like stars?” the boy asked glancing over at me.

“Yes,” I said not once taking my eyes off of them, “They’re so beautiful and they give light to so many people, but we don’t notice them enough I think.”

The boy was silent for a moment before he asked me, “Did you mean what you said that I could make others happy too? That I made you happy?”

“Of course I meant it,” I responded finally looking back at him, “I bet you could give more happiness to people then the stars out there.” I pointed to the ink black sky that painted the heavens in glittering, shimmering lights.

“I’m going to become a star,” the boy said firmly to himself.

“Like a movie star?” I asked interestedly.

“Any star I can be,” he said, “and I’ll do what you said. I’ll make other people happy.”

“That would be great.” I nodded.

“…Jessica?”

“Yes?”

“You are my first happiness. So I want…to be your happiness too.” He said looking flustered that he’d even just said that out loud.

“You are,” I told him, “You made me happy today, and you’ll follow your dream to be a star. Do that, and I’ll be perfectly happy.”

“Can I see you after I get adopted?” the boy asked hopefully.

“I would love to, but I’m going back to America tomorrow,” I told him. The boy’s face froze and his eyes widened in shock. I saw him ready to protest and I hurriedly explained, “It’s where I live. I’m only visiting here. But no matter how far away I go, don’t worry, we’ll still be friends.”

With that, I fell asleep perfectly content.

The next day, the boy left with Mrs. Kamenashi. We said goodbye, and I told him, “Come visit us in the U.S. sometime.” That was the last I saw of the boy…

I never saw him again…

Until…