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
A Profound Cup of Tea 