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All I Do is Believe
My heart was beating like a drum as the coaches were walking over to let me know my fate. I gave my total effort out on the ice that day. Would it be enough, though, or would I come up short? I wanted this more than anything, and I would have been crushed if I did not accomplish my goal. It was my burning desire to make the Affton American’s Pewee AA ice hockey team. The news was coming whether I wanted to hear it or not. All I had left to do was believe, and that was exactly what I did.
The days leading up to the tryout, however, I did nothing but constantly worry. The worrying got so bad that it started to affect my performance at school. My dad would try to calm me down with talks after school, but they were barely helping me. As the day inched closer, I was as worried as a mother sending her baby boy off to war.
If I remember correctly, it was a Saturday, but the day of the week did not matter, because it was the day of my tryout. It could have been my birthday, and I still would have only been thinking about that tryout. About an hour before I had to leave, my mom and dad called me into their bedroom. I thought they were going to tell me some bad news. Instead, they just wanted to calm me down and pray with me. My mom took my hands and spoke wonderful words to God, asking Him to watch over me and telling Him that we were leaving my fate in His hands. I will not lie, I cried a little because of my mom’s sentiments. After the uplifting prayer, my mom and dad both told me that I could do anything if I had the determination and will to reach my goal. All I needed to remember was that I had to believe. Before I left the house that day, with a bold marker, I wrote the word “BELIEVE” on my hand.
I remember it like it was yesterday. Three coaches approached my dad’s car. I got out the moment I saw them heading my way. The head coach told me that he loved the heart I had for the game and that he would like to offer me a spot on the team. I was so excited. I thanked him enthusiastically. As I was about to get back in the car, one of the coaches stopped and asked, “Hey Bobby, what is that on your hand?”
I looked down at my hand and replied, “Believe.”
“Believe in what?” He asked curiously.
“Myself and God,” I answered with a smile.
The coach smiled and shook his head, “I like this kid already.”
I live by believe now. Whenever I feel like I am not handling my stress or anxiety about something well, I think back to that time when I was that little Pewee who believed in himself. Even today, a senior in high school, you will often see the word “Believe” written on my hand. Believing has gotten me through numerous hard-hitting situations in life.
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