The Race

Her gait is awkward
Progress is laborious
Straining to focus on the target
Stumbling as she manipulates her body down the track
Determination evidenced in each muscle of her face and body
She hears the words of encouragement
The cheers and clapping
Acknowledged by the slightest nodding of her head
Almost there
Crossing the line
Last
But not alone
Surrounded by family, friends, and fans.
Attempting… Persevering… Overcoming…
A goal accomplished
Living
 
–Dawn Cawthon Behrens
 
 
Get involved with the Special Olympics in your area.

About grandawn

I live in Stillwater, Oklahoma, USA. I have three wonderful grandchildren. I am a teacher, writer, actor, singer. . . and whatever else I can manage.
This entry was posted in Aging & Changing, Poems and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The Race

  1. Beautiful expression of a wonderful time in a young girl’s life. I am reminded that “the race is not always to the swift, and the battle not always to the strong.” Victories come in many forms, and that girl and you are both winners in my book!

  2. knittingmaestro says:

    Another beautiful poem!!

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