Persevering

  The park was buzzing with activity. Fiona waited under the shade of a tree and scanned the area for her friends. She stared in awe as a group of rowdy teenagers zoomed past on their rollerblades, a mix of excitement and nervousness welling up inside her.

  Fiona’s best friends, Nicole and Winnie, were accomplished skaters. Fiona had always cycled alongside them when they went to the park together, but deep down, she had longed to be able to join them on a pair of rollerblades. It was not the same, after all. That was why Fiona jumped at the opportunity to give it a try when her friends offered to teach her how to skate.

  “Are you ready? Winnie smiled, holding out a pair of her old rollerblades as she and Nicole glided up. “You bet!” Fiona beamed. Her friends patiently helped to lace up her rollerblades and put on her safety gear, ensuring that everything was in place and secure. Before long, Fiona was ready to go.

  “Whoa!” Fiona exclaimed as she wobbled precariously, struggling to keep her balance. This was a lot harder than she imagined it would be. She was confident that she had a good sense of balance, being able to ride her bike on two wheels, but this felt entirely different! Fiona held onto her friends’ arms tightly as she put one foot in front of the other, feeling unsteady and unsure as she stepped onto the pavement.

  Fiona fell more times than she could count. But each time she fell, she gritted her teeth, got back up and tried again. She knew that learning how to rollerblade would take time and practice, and she refused to give up. Nicole and Winnie held onto her arms patiently, giving tips and words of encouragement. As the minutes turned into hours, Fiona was able to balance on her own. She skated at a snail’s pace, trailing behind her friends.

  Fiona continued to practise. She would spend hours at the park, rollerblading back and forth, trying to perfect her technique. Slowly, she was able to increase her speed and make sharp turns. It was not easy, and most days she went home with scrapes and bruises, but she was determined to master the art of rollerblading.

  As she continued to practise and improve, Fiona discovered a newfound sense of freedom and joy in rollerblading. She loved the feeling of the wind in her hair and the sun on her face as she glided down the pavement, and she bathed in the sense of accomplishment that came with mastering a new skill through hard work and perseverance.

  I looked up at the towering wall in front of me, covered in coloured rocks of different shapes and sizes. The wall seemed to reach up infinitely into the sky. My father was an avid climber and was excited to bring me to the climbing gym to experience the sport for myself.

  I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as I prepared to climb. My father had taught me the basics of climbing, and reminded me again about the safety rules, but I still felt a little unsure about whether I could actually make it up the wall. I took a deep breath and put on my climbing shoes and harness, trying to shake off my doubts.

  As I started to climb, I could feel the rough texture of the rocks against my hands and the strain in my muscles. I am not the most physically active, and this was much harder than I thought. I kept slipping and falling, and my hands hurt from gripping the rough rocks. It felt like trying to climb a mountain made out of sandpaper!

  “I can’t do it!” I cried as I lost my footing again, dangling from my harness in the air like a puppet. Dad lowered me slowly to the ground. “This is too hard,” I whined. I sat huddled on the mattress, exhausted and demoralised. Tears threatened to spill out of my eyes. My father handed me a bottle of water and sat down by my side.

  “Climbing is hard, but that’s what makes it so rewarding,” my dad said gently, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay to struggle, and it’s okay to fail. But the important thing is to keep trying.”

  I wiped my eyes and took a sip of water, feeling a little better. My dad helped me go over the basics again, showing me how to use my legs to push up and take some of the weight off my arms. He also gave me some tips on how to find the best holds and plan out my route up the wall.

  Feeling a little more confident, I put my harness back on and started to climb again. My father encouraged me from the ground, telling me where to put my hands and feet. As I kept practising, I started to get better. I learned how to use my body in different ways and how to find the best holds to use.

  Finally, after what felt like hours of climbing, I made it to the top of the wall. I felt like I had achieved something amazing. Looking down at my dad, I felt proud of myself – not just because I had made it to the top, but also for not giving up and persevering through the tough parts.