The Golden Tennis Lesson


I was sitting on the other side of the chain link fence watching my granddaughter’s first tennis lesson. The sunny skies and gentle breeze were a warm welcome.

The teenage teachers were patient and friendly. They played warm-up games and had the little ones safely swinging rackets in no time. 


A woman, whom I assumed was the tennis program director, was helping too. When a child felt awkward or scared, she played a tennis ball-bouncing game with them. I could tell she loved tennis—and motivating kids—she found a way to compliment them even when they missed the ball.


During a quick break I joined the small group of four and five year olds. We gathered together and sipped from our water bottles. In the blunt honesty five-year-olds possess, a boy asked the director, “Why do you have a gold foot?”


“Oh! Do you like my gold foot?” She lifted it for all of us to see. Her prosthetic foot was indeed golden. “A car ran over my foot when I was younger, and my doctor had to take my foot off. But God gave me this beautiful golden foot.”


The explanation didn’t seem to faze the kids; they were fascinated with all she could do with it. “I love going barefoot, and I can run and play tennis.”


Maybe these kids were learning more than tennis. I know I did. I saw a woman who not only loved teaching kids, but she was encouraging us to keep trying even when life brings something challenging to live with.


Popular posts from this blog

Dreaming the Dream

Image
Dreaming big dreams about the future is easy for kids. The only thing standing in the way is time.  Kid’s dreams are not about skills, or opportunities, or even practicality. Those things come much later.  My grandson hopes to be professional soccer player when he grows up. This week, a small piece of his dream came true when his Boys and Girls Club was invited to participate in pre-game activities with the Seattle Sounders Football Club.  He got to suit up in a real jersey and walk on the field with a real pro player. Imagine a young soccer player looking up to who he hopes to be one day. If you haven’t taken the time to talk to a child about their future dreams—you should.  They believe. As we get older we sometimes forget that dreams fuel our hopes—and that's something we all need. So, do you still dream? Or have you left those childhood thoughts behind?  S pending time with children will  inspire you to believe agai
Read more

Wild or Tame? Which One Are You?

Image
Finally! Research that explains why I act the way I do. Columbia University’s Motivational Science Center studied people’s activities and what brought them the most happiness. Even more telling were how those activities changed as they aged. Twenty-somethings tend to equate happiness with high-energy activities. Words like excited and ecstatic are usually attached to spontaneous things—even risky things—and living life full throttle.  Researchers labeled this Promotion Motivation —the urge to take chances, including career moves that may not work out. Happiness comes from happenings—the more happenings, the more happiness. By age forty, adults associate happiness with things running smoothly at work and home. It’s also about feeling secure in relationships. Keeping healthy matters more too. This behavior is called Prevention Motivation —and people are more concerned with preserving and maintaining the things they value. It appears that time ofte
Read more

The Quiet Dad

Image
After my granddaughter’s gymnastics, she’d always ask to go to the park next door—even in the winter. When you’re a high energy child, cold is relative. Our routine seemed to overlap with a dad and his son. I’d watch them as I watched my granddaughter go through her favorite activities—crossbar, swings, spinner, and the curly slide.  But the dad was not doing the same. He’d go hand-in-hand with his boy—pointing to trees, clouds, and the texture of the grass. I could see they were in a different place—one of sights, smells, and feels.   His son didn’t speak, so the father spoke into the silence around them. Since it was winter, the park was quiet—just the four of us—an energetic girl, and a boy who experienced the park in a way I never had.   We were at the same place, but in different worlds.    I saw a father’s love for his son expressed in quiet words of exploration. Never once did his son use the swing or try the crossbars. His world was spent touching tree bark and looking a
Read more