THE RACE
“Quit!” “Give up, you’re beaten,” they shout and plead, there’s just too much against you now, this time you can’t succeed. And as I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face, my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race. And hope refills my weakened will as I recall that scene, for just the thought of that short race rejuvenates my being. A children’s race, young boys, young men; how I remember well, excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn’t hard to tell. They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place. Their fathers watched from off the side, each cheering for his son, and each boy hoped to show his dad that he would be the one. The whistle blew and off they went, young hearts and hopes of fire, to win, to be the hero there, was…
To view this resource, log in or sign up for a subscription plan
