Kindness Is Something You Just Run With

(My school’s PE classes are a joke. To get us moving, my mom signs us up for the county track and field team. Anyone under 18 can participate, with events divided up by age. One day, my older sister and I are off training for our field events, but most of the team is training for long-distance running. My mom is watching the runners from the stands, keeping an eye on the youngest of our siblings. The teens finish first, of course. Then the pre-teens. Then the rugrats — eight and under — start trailing in. One of the teenage boys looks over and notices my little brother still has nearly a full lap to go, and is crying his tiny eyes out. He is three-quarters of a lap behind the next kid, and absolutely devastated to be so far behind.)

Teen #1: “[Brother] is in trouble!”

(All the teenage boys get up from their cool-down stretches, and dash over to my brother, pacing him for the rest of his lap.)

Teen #2: “Come on, [Brother]! You can do this.”

Teen #3: “1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4! You-can-do-this!”

(They all took up the chant, running in perfect time with his tiny, four-year-old legs. He stopped crying, and started to speed up a little, finally crossing the finish line. The moment he stepped across it, they swept him off his feet, carried him on their shoulders, and ran a victory lap, cheering and shouting his name. My mom sobbed, unashamedly. Not only did they know this little kid’s name, but then they did all that to encourage him, and keep him from quitting. My little brother has since become a fantastic runner. When he was 12, he started running more than ten miles to church for youth group, just for fun. We’re all very glad he never gave up.)