Today evening, I heard a little story… you know like those short films with a message. It was about a young boy who fancied something a few meters away and had his first objective in life – to go get it. So he crawled across the room towards that fancy toy and experienced his first feat, when he turned around and saw the number of tiles he crossed. And from there on… there was no looking back.
He made an even bigger attempt to stand and reach for that toy on the bed. He fell on his knees more than the count he knew – one, two and three. But he kept falling, picking himself up, falling, then rising up again, until he laid his hands on that shiny little object – the priceless thing that brought him so much joy in seeing his knees and palms all brown n blue. Cause everytime he saw his bruised knees and chapped palms, he knew he’d won a piece of joy.
With that little step, he now walked miles, and one day celebrated his first 100 metre state-level sprint. That day, he had another piece of joy added to his bounty – the joy of being faster than most runners on the field. No, he didn’t stand 1st, 2nd or 3rd.
So what if he didn't carry home a trophy, a medal or a certificate? He carried home something even more precious – a message from his own act – “Never stop trying; Nothing is Bad. It’s only important to start.”
The reason he tried, the reason he stood 4th.
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For some winning isn't a prime thing.Giving ones best matters a lot.
May be the boy never took his eye off his VISION to get there.The feeling that he gave his best shot mattered to him more, joy of giving one self wholly irrespective of result.
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