One of my favourite events in Bermuda is KiteFest at Horseshoe Bay on Good Friday.

When I saw it the first time, with hundreds of bright kites of every colour flying in the deep blue sky, beating in the streams of wind and hovering over the turquoise ocean, I thought it was a declaration of beauty and freedom.

Each kite was carefully led by the hand of a happy person. Light and trembling, from exotic dragons to simple, handmade paper triangles, they all seemed to be so alive. It was a delight and pure joy to see them dance.

This year, strong winds blew across the island for five weeks, then suddenly died the day before Good Friday.

“Not a lot of kites this year,” I said with huge disappointment when we arrived at Horseshoe.

I was prepared to take colourful photos and shoot videos, but to no avail. My husband Bill and I decided to escape the crowds and we went for a walk along Elbow Beach instead.

The weather, the beach and ambience was idyllic. It was almost deserted.

A blue boat with a white canvas top was moving slowly along the shore.

Three pretty girls were standing on the edge of the calm water, laughing, hugging and waving at a photographer who was trying hard to get the perfect picture.

Then we saw a grey-haired man, over 65, who ventured to launch an old-fashioned box kite.

He was not in the best shape, and he ran slowly, holding the kite aloft with one outstretched arm and breathing hard.

As there was virtually no wind, his kite dropped and dragged after him along the sand.

His family was lying on nearby chaises and yelled loudly at him, “Stop! Come back here! There’s no wind!”

His face was upset but still hopeful. At this moment I saw in him the boy who dreamt for a long time to fly a kite, finally built it, but couldn’t do it. It was very sad to see.

“He needs a runner,” Bill said firmly to me. “A runner? I can be a runner!” I exclaimed, and ran to help him.

I held the kite as the man tried to launch it, but it still fell to the sand.

“Not this year,” he said, gasping a bit, with a disappointment that touched my heart. “I made it myself.”

“There will be another year, many more years,” I said hopefully, trying my best to encourage him.

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I won’t be here, I am just visiting Bermuda.” He thanked me, we smiled at each other, and I continued walking.

An hour later we were on our way back. We were climbing up the steps when I turned and looked one last time at the beach. The wind suddenly picked up and the old man, now beaming happily, was running for all he was worth with the kite soaring after him!

It was not high but it was climbing. I couldn’t believe it.

“Look,” I almost screamed at Bill. “He finally did it!”

His determined effort made my Good Friday.

Sometimes, we are trying so hard to build our dream, to create our beautiful kite and fly it on the perfect day, but there is no wind and we fail.

But, if we don’t give up and go lie down with everyone else, if we stand by the ocean praying for the wind, the miracle will happen.

At that instant, we run as best we can. We race forward and the dreaming child returns to our hearts.

• Nina London is a certified wellness and weight-management coach. Her mission is to support and inspire mature women to make positive changes in their body and mind. Share your inspirational stories with her here: www.ninalondon.com