My children and I can be described as dandelions and wind. The ideal of the wind is to fly, and the ideal of the dandelion is to grow. It is the wind that carries the young dandelion to its resting place. When the destination is reached, the wind is about to leave, and the dandelion will fall to the ground and grow. When one day it grows lush enough, the wind it has ridden will return again, once again carrying the new dandelion in pursuit of the land where it ideally blooms. The wind and the dandelion cannot be together forever, but they are both looking forward to the next encounter.
Purpose: I cannot stand criticism at all. It's just a combination of what I've experienced and the stories I heard from the people involved that night, into a comprehensive fact, and I try my best to retell it to you readers.