By Laura Niebauer Palmer 
My son had just turned four when he received his first medal, a smiling frog on a yellow ribbon, for moving to the next level in gymnastics. Gymnastics did not come easy to him. He struggled to do many basic moves and watched as others moved on before him.
But he never gave up and improved a little with each class. I remember the day he jumped unassisted from the gymnastics block. For months, he had been too scared to do so on his own, each time reaching for the comforting hand of his coach. Then one day he jumped all on his own. He immediately looked over at me with a beaming smile.
I sprang up and started cheering. After a second, it struck me that other parents and coaches had too. Week after week, they watched his attempts, and when he tackled his biggest fear, they were there to share in his moment. It was amazing to see the support he received from everyone.
A few weeks later, he moved from yellow to orange level. When they put the medal around his neck, he was ecstatic. He was so proud of that medal, insisting it hang on the wall next to his bed so he could see it every morning when he woke up. Each time he saw it, he’d exclaim, “I am a winner!”
A few months after he received it, I took part in my gym’s DriTri. It’s an event where participants row 2000 meters, complete 300 bodyweight exercises, and run a 5K. It was brutal. There were moments when I felt like throwing up and giving up.
As the other participants started completing the event, I realized how far I still had to run. With one mile left to go, there were two of us left to finish. The rest of the participants rallied around us, cheering us on. I finally finished, dead tired and dead last.
My body had taken a beating, and I was frustrated with how my aging body had not lived up to my expectations. Despite my last-place finish, I received a medal on an orange ribbon for completing the event.
When I got home, my husband and son were anxiously waiting to hear how I had done. Before I could say a word, my son saw the orange ribbon peeking from my bag. He pulled it out and proclaimed, “Momma, we are both winners!” With my medal still in his hand, he ran to grab his. Running back he had a huge smile on his face and said, “Let’s wear our medals.”
At that moment, it hit me. This little boy was so proud of himself and me, not because we received first place but because we both accomplished something that pushed us beyond our comfort zones.
“Momma, let’s take a picture,” he requested, and after a much-needed shower, we donned our medals and took a picture. I’m so glad we did, it’s one of my favorites. Every time I look at it, I’m reminded it doesn’t matter if someone accomplishes something before you do or even what place you come in. We are each running our own race, at our own pace. So let’s be happy for those ahead of us, cheer on those around us, and encourage those who are just starting out.
While my son has since moved on from gymnastics, he still remembers how he looked fear in the face and jumped in spite of it. Jumping from a gymnastics block may seem small in the grand scope of life, but it’s one of the first of many obstacles he’ll face. I pray he always knows he can do the hard things.
As for me, two years later, my medal hangs in my closet, and I see it every morning as I grab my workout gear. It serves as a daily reminder of what I accomplished and what I still can accomplish. May we all be so lucky to have an enthusiastic preschooler in our corner!
by Katie Westenberg 
by Keegan Taylor 
by Sherry White 
