There is a particular incident that occurred to my younger brother when we were still young. He was about seven years of age then, and everybody knew him as the fastest runner in his school or at least in his class. This title gave him the confidence and fierceness he needed to win when he stepped on the race track. And he never lost a race to anybody until one day a new student arrived. His name was Prince and before long he became my brother's rival topping him in every race they ran and completely smashing my brother's faith in the game.
It was painful watching my brother go through this pain, I saw him cry every time he lost and it just broke my heart. I kept wishing that I could help him run his race at least maybe if he saw me run and win he would become his cheerful self. But there was nothing I could do, it was his race to run and not mine.
My brother lost five more races to Prince that year. But in his last contest he didn't just lose to Prince he lost to the whole contestants. For the first time ever, my brother came in last. That day he cried like never before, my mother tried to console him by buying ice cream and other goodie goodies she could find. But a defeat is a defeat no matter how much you sugarcoat it, it's not going away for anything.
After that defeat, my brother never raced again. His fire for racing completely vanished.
A few months passed after his defeat and my family and I were completely worried about his mental health that we began to treat him like a king just so that his bruised ego would heal. I don't know if it was the motivational speech my father dropped for him every day or the pampering my mother showered on him, but one day my brother returned from school with a smile on his face.
He was happy and full of life very much like his former self. He ran straight to my mother and from his bag, he gave her an envelope. When my mother opened the envelope she smiled and hugged him before showing me what was written in it. It was my brother's report card showing that he got the first position in his class. Even I(myself) could not believe it, my father was more shocked than I was. He was so happy for my brother that he bought him a bicycle. I was happy for my brother but I'd still be lying if I said wasn't jealous of all the attention he got during this period but that is a sibling rivalry for another day.
My brother might have lost brutally but his comeback was like a dangerous wave giving life to the ocean after a long and sudden calm. And he remained top of his class throughout secondary school.
I learned a lot from this event with my brother but two things clearly stuck with me. The first one is that, if I really want my father to buy me things that he would normally not buy for me, I had to impress him academically. And the second is that failure comes a thousand times but when success finally comes, it comes with a song of victory that even the deaf will acknowledge. So, I never give up, and I push regardless.
Thanks for your time.
Your brother was disappointed when he lost his races but he didn't let it keep him down especially when all seemed lost.
I'm very sure even the new student Prince couldn't keep up with him academically. Still one step ahead, I guess.
Your brother gave up due to intimidation, tbatt is one thing I never allow myself get into cause it doesn't always have a good end, but at least he was able to make a good come back with bring home a good result.
"Failure comes a thousand times but when success finally comes, it comes with a song of victory that even the deaf will acknowledge".
Yes, not only do I agree with that, I also subscribe to the fact that failure gives a chance to re-evaluate and come back with something better. Thanks for sharing.