I sent this in to a contest for a cash scholarship on a student website. The prompt was "What's the greatest gift you have ever been given?"
The sun was beating down and every step we took seemed to take us closer to the Sun and its flaming heat. My ballerina legs were beginning to fail me and I wondered how they could support me dancing for seven hours, but not hiking for three. I looked ahead along the trail and found my French hosts bounding up the mountain. They were agile and excited and quick. And seventy-three years old.
I realized I was getting lapped by an elderly man with asthma and all I could do was laugh. (Until that became too tiring). I decided to instead focus on the beautiful scenery....and the picnic that we would have on the summit.
After eating and taking pictures, I still felt unprepared for the long trek down. My hair was sweaty and clingy, and I started to regret not wearing makeup. I could even taste the grit of dirt on my teeth. The first small hill was easy enough and I rounded the corner, eager to let the momentum simply carry me the rest of the way down.
"When you walk, you dance."
I looked back to see Hubert, the freakishly athletic seventy-three year old with asthma. In his broken English he had just given me the kindest, most genuine, and meaningful compliment I had ever received. Even in my exhausted state, he saw past my limitations and told me I had something that I had been trying to cultivate my whole life: grace.
Even though it was a simple compliment, I really appreciated the validation and confidence it gave me. So now I am more able to see the gracefulness behind every attempt and realize that some of my seemingly big fails are just dance steps down the slope of life.
The sun was beating down and every step we took seemed to take us closer to the Sun and its flaming heat. My ballerina legs were beginning to fail me and I wondered how they could support me dancing for seven hours, but not hiking for three. I looked ahead along the trail and found my French hosts bounding up the mountain. They were agile and excited and quick. And seventy-three years old.
I realized I was getting lapped by an elderly man with asthma and all I could do was laugh. (Until that became too tiring). I decided to instead focus on the beautiful scenery....and the picnic that we would have on the summit.
After eating and taking pictures, I still felt unprepared for the long trek down. My hair was sweaty and clingy, and I started to regret not wearing makeup. I could even taste the grit of dirt on my teeth. The first small hill was easy enough and I rounded the corner, eager to let the momentum simply carry me the rest of the way down.
"When you walk, you dance."
I looked back to see Hubert, the freakishly athletic seventy-three year old with asthma. In his broken English he had just given me the kindest, most genuine, and meaningful compliment I had ever received. Even in my exhausted state, he saw past my limitations and told me I had something that I had been trying to cultivate my whole life: grace.
Even though it was a simple compliment, I really appreciated the validation and confidence it gave me. So now I am more able to see the gracefulness behind every attempt and realize that some of my seemingly big fails are just dance steps down the slope of life.
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