Eight athletes were having a sprint race on the track. ‘Here it is – the goal.’ She tried to rush, although she already had no strength left. ‘It is the time. Now, focus. You can do this!’ She bent forward, and finally, she crossed the finishing line.
‘But what am I striving for?’ she asked herself.
As Estelle was approaching the grandstand, she could hear the house members hailing the winner enthusiastically – the heroine who had saved the house. All the house committee members admired the heroine for her excellent performance so much. They started to lead the cheering team to dance and sing. All these sounds formed rock music with strong beats. Somehow it seemed to remind her how much a loser she was – the song was played for the winner, extolling her great effort, but not for her.
‘Why? I have also done my best for the house. I gave it my best shot. Why nobody appreciate me? It is all so unfair! They all have forgotten me,’ she said to herself.
Estelle took off the spiked running shoes and changed back to her ordinary Adidas. It was a lot more comfortable than wearing the professional spiked running shoes. Really, only ordinary things would suit me, she thought. Since the days in kindergarten, she had always been the shortest one in class, and always the slowest runner. She thought she should have accepted the reality – being poor in sports. However, at this moment, she was still disappointed. ‘Just try your best, and you will receive your fair due.’ Estelle could clearly remember what mum had told her when she was small. However, mum was lying, she guessed. Reality had proved mum wrong. At this moment, Estelle knew she was too keyed up, and she needed to calm down.
Estelle went to the washroom. There was nobody inside, so she felt much more relaxed. She started to utter a stifled cry of agony. Suddenly, she could hear some footsteps. Somebody was coming. Estelle hid in a cubicle – she did not want anybody to see her feeble side.
‘Wohoo…… You know, I was nearly the last one in the sprint race. It’s so lucky that I can finally get rid of the fate of always being the slowest one. The feeling of being the seventh place is much better!’ A girl said to her friend in a grateful tone.
The girl and her friend left after a few minutes. Estelle had stopped crying and left. She came across her best friend Trista in front of the washroom.
‘There you are! I was so worried about you. Are you alright?’ Trista said.
‘I’m okay, thanks. You know, it is really depressing to be the last one in a race!’ Estelle said.
‘Well, look at it in this way. By being the eighth, you have made seven people happy. Besides, if everybody worries about being the last and refuses to join the game, there will be no games at all. Participation is the most important. I admire your sticking to the very end. You could have quit when you know that you’d be the last, but you didn’t. That’s the spirit of sports!’
Hearing this, Estelle felt much better. She also knew that Trista is a very good friend indeed.
Looking up, Estelle saw a bird hold a branch by the teeth, trying to build its nest bit by bit. Estelle understood something – she had her value, since she was so persistent. She smiled. A classmate came over and asked……
‘Hey mate, how’s your race?’
‘I’ve got the eighth place,’ Estelle answered, with a heartfelt smile on her face.