“Come on! You can do it!”
She, Wales, was the slowest swimmer on the team. Even those much younger than she were faster swimmers. At the swimming meets, Wales always finished last, long after the other swimmers had completed their turns. More often than not, she would emerge from the pool with tears wetting her cheeks as well as water from the pool. Wales never missed practice. Her mother saw to it that she was the first one to arrive. On most occasions, she was the last one to leave when the practice was finished. You could depend on her being at every single meet. Again, her mother made sure she was there. Her father, a professor at the university, always seemed to be elsewhere. I knew this was true as both of my daughters were members of the team as well.
Granted, Wales did not exactly have what one would call “a swimmer’s body”. She was of average height for a thirteen-year-old. However, she was overweight; not significantly, but certainly noticeable. She was aware of her size. She stayed out of the center of attention, preferring the fringe of any group she happened to be in. She was not loud or boisterous, rather she was somewhat soft spoken. When asked questions, Wales responded appropriately, using as few words as possible. It was rumored about she was the smartest kid in all of her classes. She was not pretentious, at all.
The swim season was coming to an end. It was Summer. Several members of the team were going on vacations, before the beginning of school again. The last meet was scheduled for Saturday. The coach of the team was anxious, worrying about having enough swimmers to compete at a championship level. The team had won all of their meets during the season. A win at the finals would be the perfect climax. Lifting high the championship trophy would make all of the hard work of the hours of practice and competition worthwhile.
On Saturday morning the team gathered around their coach at the pool. There were five other teams there for the meet. Everyone was excited, ready. The coach had gotten the word, on the way to the meet, that one of the “key members” (fastest and strongest swimmer) would not be there, headed to the beach with her family instead. Due to the limited number of events each swimmer could participate in, it appeared as though the team would not be able to enter one of the longer relay events, scheduled late in the meet. The coach stated to the team the fact that having to forfeit that event might cost the team a chance at the championship. Oh the disappointment that registered on the team member’s faces! It was then Wales spoke up, saying “Coach. I know I am not your best swimmer but, I will swim one of the legs of the relay. I am only swimming in one other event, thus I am eligible. I am willing.”
When the word spread of what was going to happen there were lots of moans and groans from the swimmers on the team and of their parents and friends gathered for the meet. I noticed Wales’ mother leave the pool area, no doubt to hide her tears. I saw her return after a few minutes and take her seat.
The events began. The team was doing very well. Both of my daughters won their events by swimming as strong and fast as they were able to do. Along about three-quarters of the way through the meet the team was leading, just barely. It was obvious the final relay was going to decide the championship. Everyone was aware of what was at stake.
I stole a quick glance at Wales. She was sitting apart from the rest of the team. She appeared still and quiet. Her head was dropped down. She was very much in her own world. For some unknown reason, I turned to look at her mother. Low and behold, sitting by Wales’ mother was her father. His eyes were focused totally on his daughter.
Finally, the relay was called. All of the swimmers went to their assigned positions. My oldest daughter was to swim the second leg of the event. Unfortunately, or so it seemed, Wales was going to swim the last leg. The starter sounded the horn and off they were. The first swimmer for our team held a slight lead when my daughter took over. She was doing her very best. However, the swimmer for the other team was stronger and faster, making up the distance. The third swimmer for each team gave it their best, but their swimmer was faster. When their fourth swimmer hit the water she had a good lead. For our team, it was time for Wales. Oh well. It had been a good season. Our young ladies had done well. They had become better swimmers. They had become the best of friends. Too bad, I found myself saying to myself.
But then, over the noise of all of the other spectators, I heard his voice, “Wales. Come on! You can do it!” Her father was running beside her lane on the edge of the pool as she swam. Over and over again he said “Wales. Come on! You can do it!” Pretty soon, everyone that was pulling for our team joined him in saying, “Wales. Come on! You can do it!” She began to swim faster and stronger than I had ever seen her do before. Stroke by stroke she began to gain on the other swimmer. No. She did not win a championship trophy. She came in a close second, just a stroke behind. But, she came away the winner that day.
Has anyone ever encouraged you like that? Do you know of someone that needs your encouragement?
Recently, I read where Wales received her PH-D. She has joined the faculty at a very prestigious university. In my mind, I saw her walking across the platform to receive her degree, while echoing through the building was the sound of her father’s voice saying, “Wales. Come on! You can do it!”