All through Christmas break, my daughter debated on whether she
wanted to continue taking gymnastics lessons or not. She has loved them up until recently when they started doing backwards pull-overs on the bar, and since then, she has been very nervous each time it’s her turn for bar. Today was the first class of the year, and she decided to be brave and give it a go. I was proud of her just for attending, and told her she could come over and sit with me any time she needed to if she wasn’t up to it. The class unfolded in a way that brought tears to my eyes by the end.
The first event in her rotation was uneventful. She did the vault and enjoyed it like she always does. However, the next event was the bars. She looked over at me as she walked to the bars and I could see her tensing up. I watched as her teachers encouraged her, but she was visibly terrified when they asked her to do a backwards pull-over. The poor girl got so scared, that I could see her shake from over 30 feet away. Then came the tears. However, she pulled through and did it. Not once, but twice. Two backwards pull-overs.
After the bars, the class got a break and came to get their water bottles. The Creeve came over and I could see how much she had been crying. I pulled her into a tight hug and whispered how proud I was of her. Then I asked if she wanted to quit for the day and head home. I was amazed at her response: “No, I want to stay and finish.” She grabbed a quick drink of water, washed the chalk off her hands, and lined up with her class to head over to the beam.
I watched her on the beam, I watched her climb up the rope, I watched her on the trampoline. She continually fought back the tears she had begun on the bars. But she continued.
I have a chronic disorder that I will post about sometime, but suffice it to say, there have been many times when I have given up in the middle of a treatment because I didn’t feel like it was working. As I watched my daughter, I renewed my desire to endure to the end. I want to be like her.
Thank you, sweet Creeve, for teaching me to finish the course.