Boy
By hovis
- 670 reads
There was a boy who could run. Really run. He could race cars down
the street and beat them. Everyone said he was faster than the wind.
The air would fall of him like leaves from a tree. He lived with his
grandfather who told him "You'll make me proud, you'll run for your
country". His teacher, Mr MacGregor told him. "You're a fine runner
boy, you'll do well. You'll be a great sprinter. Keep it up".
The postman used to see him flash by on his rounds. He'd cock his hat
and wave and say "He'll make the Olympics - see if I'm right".
The boy won all his races, no-one came near. He filled up his
grandfathers house with cups and trophies.
Then the boy caught polio and his legs became skin and bone. His
grandfather could fit his hand around the boy's legs and his fingers
would meet. The polio ate his muscles and he couldn't run any
more.
His grandfather said "Not to worry you can take up rowing. You're legs
are no good but I'll build you a boat".
The boy took up rowing and became an excellent rower. He spent days on
the river practising and won many medals. Everyone said "It's a miracle
- he's so blessed".
Then the boy's grandfather died and the boy stopped rowing.
His teacher told him "You're grandfather would want you to keep rowing
son. You shouldn't waste your talent".
The postman said "I'm saving up to see you at the Olympics boy, why
don't you row anymore".
The boy said he didn't want to. He said he didn't like rowing and he'd
never liked running. The postman asked him "Why did you do them?". The
boy said "Because I could, it was easy. Everyone wanted me to and I
wanted to please my grandfather."
The postman asked the boy what he wanted to do. The boy told him he
wanted to sing. The boy joined a local choir. There are better singers
there and although he makes mistakes, sometimes misses the key, he
doesn't mind. He just loves to sing, and that's enough.
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