Growth and its Beauty

Journal, Writing

It was a beautiful scene watching the soccer coach personally take my brother to the side and teach him how to kick.

I remembered my swimming coaches teaching me how to paddle and kick and breath. I remembered the baby steps to successful sport.

To empowerment.

To believing that I can one day.

My brother, I thought, wasn’t much but I wasn’t much either I guess.

It was beautiful watching that pat on the back from his coach like this potential he sees that I can’t yet.

Growth is gorgeous. It’s the process that’s so so pretty.

It was beautiful seeing Ismail making friends and socializing. He’s growing.

It was beautiful seeing them all holding hands like a team with that inexplicable spirit,

I remember it I used to feel it too

That electricity that only a team player feels and understands — a growing team is beautiful.

My growing brother is beautiful

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