A Short Story I Wrote Entitled, "Spirit"
Spirit
(c) David Conlin McLeod 2005 All Rights Reserved
Amy sat in her chair and looked down at her white gymnast slippers as her coach tallied up her scores from the judges’ scoreboard. She was also admiring her shimmery blue leotard too and discreetly neatening it around her legs to hide the edges of the special briefs she had to wear underneath.
Behind her team’s row of chairs were the bleachers where all the gymnasts’ families and friends were watching the meet with their excited smiles and flashing cameras and camcorders. Coach Wysocki was hoping Amy had earned herself a high enough all-around score for a medal. Though Amy couldn’t see or wasn’t paying too much attention to anything but her pretty slippers and shiny, shimmery leotard, her parents were hoping and praying for a medal as well.
Amy had been training in gymnastics for a few years now and taking ballet classes for almost as long. These classes were expensive as were her leotards, tights, and warm-ups suits and accessories. There were other costs too, like travel expenses between meets and workouts, team application fees, tournament fees, and hotel accommodation expenses as well. A lot had been invested in seeing Amy win either a bronze, silver, or gold medal. Amy’s parents right here and right now were hoping to see some of their investments pay off.
Even though Amy’s scores needed to be adjusted for the level of difficulty for her routines and for her handicap, Coach Wysocki seemed somewhat pleased and somewhat disappointed as well. Her scores were higher than they’ve ever been, but were they high enough to medal?
Coach Wysocki glanced about the gym and eyed the other teams and their coaches carefully for some sign or clue as to how well or how poorly her rival teams had done. Some coaches were smiling, some seemed emotionless and stern. Some coaches glanced back at her and simply turned away to focus more on their gymnasts. Wysocki then glanced back at her team. Many of her girls were smiling, happy, bright and cheerful. Most were sitting in their chairs obediently, getting assistance from aids and volunteers who helped them slip on their warm-up suits for the award presentation, some were neatening their hair buns or ponytails, while others, like Amy simply sat and folded their hands upon their laps and admired their pretty slippers and leotard.
The gymnasts didn’t seem to care the slightest about the flashing numbers scrolling up and down the scoreboard on the wall. Most didn’t know what any of those numbers meant. Some girls didn’t even know how to get themselves properly dressed. Amy was one of those girls who needed the most help as she was required to wear a diaper and rubber panty under her leotard and had to be more closely supervised between events. Amy liked to explore and wander about the gym.
Tabulating the scores, Wysocki noted that Amy had earned an 8.75 on her balance beam routine, a 7.50 on her rhythmic gymnastics routine, a 9.10 on her floor exercise routine, and a 9.50 on her vault. Her teammates didn’t perform as well as Amy, but did Amy perform better than the other competing gymnasts? Was Amy’s scores going to be high enough for Coach Wysocki to see her name beside Amy’s on the big scoreboard? Any medal any of this team earned was going to reflect very nicely on Coach Wysocki’s program and make a nice addition to her resume and gym’s reputation. Having people look upon her as a coach known to get results, known for helping girls win medals was priceless and profitable. Every would-be gymnast and their parents were lured by the glint of gold, silver, or bronze. Knowing that a coach could deliver was a huge incentive.
Amy smiled and rubbed her leotard’s sleeves nice and smoothly, enjoying the feel of the sleek spandex against her skin. She seemed mesmerized by how shiny and bright her blue leotard looked under the bright gym lights overhead. Hearing the applause and cheering from the crowds around her as the announcers asked for everyone’s attention, Amy looked up and eyed the bleachers over her shoulder. There in the front was her Mommy and Daddy with camera and score sheet at the ready. Amy brightened and waved to them eagerly.
“Come on Amy, let’s get your warm-ups on for awards presentation,” a volunteer spoke up, tapping Amy gently on the shoulder.
“But I like my leotard! I like shimmery blue!” Amy protested, pouting and clinging to the front of her leotard tightly across her chest. “It’s super pretty and I like it lots!”
“Amy stop being a little girl. You’re thirteen-years’-old, don’t be a baby. Now come on and help be slip on your warm-up pants,” the volunteer firmly scolded.
Amy crossed her arms across her chest and shook her head firmly only to have the volunteer slide the legs of her warm-up pants on her and pull up the waistband around her hips with a lift of her butt and a firm tug. Amy yelped as she was lifted from her chair and made to stand as another volunteer held her from behind and lifted her arms up over her head. Her warm-up jacket was put on her and zipped up even as she tried to wrestle free from the volunteers’ grips. She hated seeing the shimmery blue leotard hiding under a plain white nylon sweat suit. She didn’t even care if her name was embroidered on the jacket in bright blue glittery letters. She liked her leotard best.
“Leave me alone, you guys are being mean!” Amy cried.
The coach and volunteers shuffled and prodded the team to stand at their place on the gym floor as the announcer’s voice boomed from overhead speakers to announce each team’s name. Amy heard her team’s name, “East River Tumblers” and perked up with an instant smile. Suddenly she remembered what was going to happen next. They would all receive medals and ribbons and the whole gym would clap and cheer and all the gymnasts would live happily ever after.
Amy stood between her friends Karen and Lisa and smiled proudly as they formed a line with the rest of their team. Looking all around herself, Amy instantly remembered the fun she had dancing with her ribbons, prancing tip-toe on the balance beam, hopping over the vault, doing fancy somersaults and dance moves, and waving to all the people cheering in the stands. It had been a fun day full of dancing and gymnastics- the two things she loved best in the whole wide world.
Now it was time for best part, the giving out of pretty ribbons and shiny medals. At this meet, Amy knew that everyone got something special. Everyone got a special award or prize. Looking at the table behind the judges, Amy could see all the shiny gold, silver, and bronze medals and all the pretty colored ribbons too. Of all the colors she saw, she liked the pink and purple prize ribbons best.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the highest score and gold medal for the floor exercise for twelve to fourteen-year-olds goes to Amy Cavanaugh of East River Tumblers!” an announcer cheerfully exclaimed.
Amy’s heart jumped in her chest. That was her name! An escort quickly walked up to Amy and grabbed her arm gently to prod her towards the awards podium. Amy stepped up to the top podium and stood and waved to her parents happily. She won an award!
The judge smiled pleasantly at Amy and cupped her chin in her hand as she guided the medal around her neck and patted her on the shoulder.
“You did a very good job today! We are all very proud of you!” beamed the judge just as the silver medalist was announced for the floor exercise routine.
Amy admired the bright gold medal lying across her chest with the emblems and bright reflective shiny surface. She had never won anything that was ever this beautiful before or so bright.
As soon as all the remaining medals and ribbons had been handed out and all the girls returned to their places, the announcer began to call names and teams out for the awarding of the next round of awards for the balance beam. Amy listened intently, but conjured up daydream memories of her routine. Skimming the surface of the beam just on the tips of her toes she had done a few arabesques, a stag leap, and a very difficult cartwheel. For her, cartwheels were very hard to do especially on the balance beam without help.
Amy heard the happy and cheerful announcer call out, “And in fifth place on her team with a very good score of 8.75, is Amy Cavanaugh of East River Tumblers!”
Another escort took her hand and prodded her to the judges table where a man in a suit waited to pin a pink 5th place ribbon on her warm-up jacket, right under her embroidered name. Amy smiled and thanked the judge as she looked down at the bright pink ribbon.
“Woo-hoo! I got a pink one!” Amy smiled, hopping and skipping back to her team’s place.
Of all her awards so far, she liked this 5th place ribbon the best because pink was her favorite color of all. Eyeing her parents though, Amy could see a frown on her father’s face. Daddy wasn’t looking so pleased about her winning a fifth place ribbon. Maybe he didn’t like pink so much as he seemed to love gold? Mommy however was very happy and was quick to take several pictures of her with the camera.
Amy stood patiently as each team approached the awards table to receive their ribbons and medals. From all over the state these teams had come together to compete for these prizes and qualify for the Southern Connecticut competition. The Southern Connecticut meet was the most important one of the year and you couldn’t compete in that unless you earned a medal in at least one event.
Amy however didn’t seem to know or care so much about where or when her next competition was. She just loved ballet and gymnastics and worked very hard at doing her best and learning new skills and routines. She just liked to make Coach Wysocki happy and make her parents proud of her, even her grumpy old Daddy. She did like her shiny gold medal and liked seeing the huge grin on her coach’s face and the gleam in her eyes, but all in all she wished she had another pink or maybe one of the shiny green ribbons instead.
“Why would you want one of those green ribbons? Those are for seventh place! Wouldn’t you rather have a gold medal for first place?” asked a volunteer noting Amy’s interest in the new ribbon her friend Lisa now wore on her chest for her score on the rhythmic gymnastics routine.
“I like the colors!” Amy beamed. “Gold isn’t as pretty as pink or shiny green.”
“I don’t get you Amy, you won a gold medal and a ribbon for your routines… you’re going to compete in the Southern Connecticut meet, and all you care about is the pretty colors on those stupid ribbons?” Coach Wysocki chimed in.
Amy shrugged and looked away. She knew what she liked and wasn’t going to listen to anyone else trying to change her mind.
“And that concludes the Nutmeg Regional Special Olympics Gymnastics Qualifier!” announced the event co-coordinator from his podium. “Congratulations to all our talented gymnasts and remember, at Special Olympics, everyone’s a winner!”
Amy smiled and cheered and clapped her hands loudly with all her friends and teammates. She won three shiny ribbons- one pink, one white, and one blue. She also won her first every medal in all her years of gymnastics! Now as everyone shook hands and hugged and smiled and giggled happily, Amy’s coach walked off somewhat disgustedly. She knew her team could not qualify for the State Summer Olympics at Southern Connecticut State University. One girl with one medal wasn’t enough for her to send a team or earn her additional recognition. The way she saw it, her class enrollment now would take a dip. People wouldn’t want to send their girls to learn gymnastics from a coach you only came back with a team adorned with fifth, sixth, and seventh place ribbons.
Mr. Cavanaugh had a few choice words to say to Coach Wysocki and immediately pulled her aside by the gymnasium and locker room exits. Mrs. Cavanaugh however rushed to celebrate her daughter’s incredible efforts and join in her happiness, offering to sweep her up in her arms and hug her snuggly.
“I did my best Mommy and I had lots of fun and wore my shiny leotard and got ribbons!” Amy exclaimed, pointing proudly to her pink 5th place, her white 6th place, and blue 4th place ribbons. She beamed even brighter when her mother kissed her forehead and admired her gold medal.
As they walked arm in arm towards the locker room however, Amy immediately caught the sight of a young gymnast crying. The girl was sobbing into her hands and crying, hiding her face from her disappointed parents, who didn’t seem impressed with her ribbons as she was. The girl wore her ribbons proudly across the front of her bright green leotard. Her father and mother however were looking down upon her with stern expressions and they were scolding her.
“Mommy, that’s not right. She’s a good gymnast!” Amy whispered firmly in her mother’s ear. “I want to help.”
Amy pulled her mother’s arm and led her towards the scene that had drawn Amy’s attention away from the locker room doors. The pretty, but saddened gymnast was upset and ashamed. She sobbed and wailed as her father and mother continued to scold and say mean things that Amy herself felt chilled from. Amy yelped when she thought she heard this girl’s father and mother call this pretty girl “stupid”.
Amy reached around her neck and lifted the gold medal she had earned and held it out to this gymnast.
“I don’t want this medal. I want you to have it because you are a good gymnast! It will make your Mommy and Daddy smile so they won’t say mean things,” Amy announced, handing her medal to the saddened girl.
The younger girl cupped the medal in her hands with widened eyes. Like Amy, she had never won a medal in all her life, let alone pretty ribbons. This had been her first competition ever with the Special Olympics. She was just happy to be here and just happy to have had the chance to dress in a leotard and do gymnastics- when so many told her she had no right to even dream of it.
“Thank you so much, you are so nice!” the young gymnast softly cried, rubbing tears from her soaked eyes.
“You are a good gymnast and I hope to see you again so we can be friends and do gymnastics together,” Amy replied, hugging her new friend warmly. “And we can be friends now.”
Amy and her friend hugged, while Amy’s mother smiled even more proudly at what her daughter had done. The young gymnast’s parents however huffed and puffed and looked down at the medal with mild satisfaction, muttering a half-hearted thanks to Amy.
Before Amy and her friend parted though and headed for the locker room to change clothes, they quickly exchanged “friendship” card from their gym bags which listed the name of their gym and how they could become pen-pals. Amy and her new friend, Rachel, walked hand-in-hand to the lockers, leaving their parents to ponder what they had done.
Amy sat in her chair and looked down at her white gymnast slippers as her coach tallied up her scores from the judges’ scoreboard. She was also admiring her shimmery blue leotard too and discreetly neatening it around her legs to hide the edges of the special briefs she had to wear underneath.
Behind her team’s row of chairs were the bleachers where all the gymnasts’ families and friends were watching the meet with their excited smiles and flashing cameras and camcorders. Coach Wysocki was hoping Amy had earned herself a high enough all-around score for a medal. Though Amy couldn’t see or wasn’t paying too much attention to anything but her pretty slippers and shiny, shimmery leotard, her parents were hoping and praying for a medal as well.
Amy had been training in gymnastics for a few years now and taking ballet classes for almost as long. These classes were expensive as were her leotards, tights, and warm-ups suits and accessories. There were other costs too, like travel expenses between meets and workouts, team application fees, tournament fees, and hotel accommodation expenses as well. A lot had been invested in seeing Amy win either a bronze, silver, or gold medal. Amy’s parents right here and right now were hoping to see some of their investments pay off.
Even though Amy’s scores needed to be adjusted for the level of difficulty for her routines and for her handicap, Coach Wysocki seemed somewhat pleased and somewhat disappointed as well. Her scores were higher than they’ve ever been, but were they high enough to medal?
Coach Wysocki glanced about the gym and eyed the other teams and their coaches carefully for some sign or clue as to how well or how poorly her rival teams had done. Some coaches were smiling, some seemed emotionless and stern. Some coaches glanced back at her and simply turned away to focus more on their gymnasts. Wysocki then glanced back at her team. Many of her girls were smiling, happy, bright and cheerful. Most were sitting in their chairs obediently, getting assistance from aids and volunteers who helped them slip on their warm-up suits for the award presentation, some were neatening their hair buns or ponytails, while others, like Amy simply sat and folded their hands upon their laps and admired their pretty slippers and leotard.
The gymnasts didn’t seem to care the slightest about the flashing numbers scrolling up and down the scoreboard on the wall. Most didn’t know what any of those numbers meant. Some girls didn’t even know how to get themselves properly dressed. Amy was one of those girls who needed the most help as she was required to wear a diaper and rubber panty under her leotard and had to be more closely supervised between events. Amy liked to explore and wander about the gym.
Tabulating the scores, Wysocki noted that Amy had earned an 8.75 on her balance beam routine, a 7.50 on her rhythmic gymnastics routine, a 9.10 on her floor exercise routine, and a 9.50 on her vault. Her teammates didn’t perform as well as Amy, but did Amy perform better than the other competing gymnasts? Was Amy’s scores going to be high enough for Coach Wysocki to see her name beside Amy’s on the big scoreboard? Any medal any of this team earned was going to reflect very nicely on Coach Wysocki’s program and make a nice addition to her resume and gym’s reputation. Having people look upon her as a coach known to get results, known for helping girls win medals was priceless and profitable. Every would-be gymnast and their parents were lured by the glint of gold, silver, or bronze. Knowing that a coach could deliver was a huge incentive.
Amy smiled and rubbed her leotard’s sleeves nice and smoothly, enjoying the feel of the sleek spandex against her skin. She seemed mesmerized by how shiny and bright her blue leotard looked under the bright gym lights overhead. Hearing the applause and cheering from the crowds around her as the announcers asked for everyone’s attention, Amy looked up and eyed the bleachers over her shoulder. There in the front was her Mommy and Daddy with camera and score sheet at the ready. Amy brightened and waved to them eagerly.
“Come on Amy, let’s get your warm-ups on for awards presentation,” a volunteer spoke up, tapping Amy gently on the shoulder.
“But I like my leotard! I like shimmery blue!” Amy protested, pouting and clinging to the front of her leotard tightly across her chest. “It’s super pretty and I like it lots!”
“Amy stop being a little girl. You’re thirteen-years’-old, don’t be a baby. Now come on and help be slip on your warm-up pants,” the volunteer firmly scolded.
Amy crossed her arms across her chest and shook her head firmly only to have the volunteer slide the legs of her warm-up pants on her and pull up the waistband around her hips with a lift of her butt and a firm tug. Amy yelped as she was lifted from her chair and made to stand as another volunteer held her from behind and lifted her arms up over her head. Her warm-up jacket was put on her and zipped up even as she tried to wrestle free from the volunteers’ grips. She hated seeing the shimmery blue leotard hiding under a plain white nylon sweat suit. She didn’t even care if her name was embroidered on the jacket in bright blue glittery letters. She liked her leotard best.
“Leave me alone, you guys are being mean!” Amy cried.
The coach and volunteers shuffled and prodded the team to stand at their place on the gym floor as the announcer’s voice boomed from overhead speakers to announce each team’s name. Amy heard her team’s name, “East River Tumblers” and perked up with an instant smile. Suddenly she remembered what was going to happen next. They would all receive medals and ribbons and the whole gym would clap and cheer and all the gymnasts would live happily ever after.
Amy stood between her friends Karen and Lisa and smiled proudly as they formed a line with the rest of their team. Looking all around herself, Amy instantly remembered the fun she had dancing with her ribbons, prancing tip-toe on the balance beam, hopping over the vault, doing fancy somersaults and dance moves, and waving to all the people cheering in the stands. It had been a fun day full of dancing and gymnastics- the two things she loved best in the whole wide world.
Now it was time for best part, the giving out of pretty ribbons and shiny medals. At this meet, Amy knew that everyone got something special. Everyone got a special award or prize. Looking at the table behind the judges, Amy could see all the shiny gold, silver, and bronze medals and all the pretty colored ribbons too. Of all the colors she saw, she liked the pink and purple prize ribbons best.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the highest score and gold medal for the floor exercise for twelve to fourteen-year-olds goes to Amy Cavanaugh of East River Tumblers!” an announcer cheerfully exclaimed.
Amy’s heart jumped in her chest. That was her name! An escort quickly walked up to Amy and grabbed her arm gently to prod her towards the awards podium. Amy stepped up to the top podium and stood and waved to her parents happily. She won an award!
The judge smiled pleasantly at Amy and cupped her chin in her hand as she guided the medal around her neck and patted her on the shoulder.
“You did a very good job today! We are all very proud of you!” beamed the judge just as the silver medalist was announced for the floor exercise routine.
Amy admired the bright gold medal lying across her chest with the emblems and bright reflective shiny surface. She had never won anything that was ever this beautiful before or so bright.
As soon as all the remaining medals and ribbons had been handed out and all the girls returned to their places, the announcer began to call names and teams out for the awarding of the next round of awards for the balance beam. Amy listened intently, but conjured up daydream memories of her routine. Skimming the surface of the beam just on the tips of her toes she had done a few arabesques, a stag leap, and a very difficult cartwheel. For her, cartwheels were very hard to do especially on the balance beam without help.
Amy heard the happy and cheerful announcer call out, “And in fifth place on her team with a very good score of 8.75, is Amy Cavanaugh of East River Tumblers!”
Another escort took her hand and prodded her to the judges table where a man in a suit waited to pin a pink 5th place ribbon on her warm-up jacket, right under her embroidered name. Amy smiled and thanked the judge as she looked down at the bright pink ribbon.
“Woo-hoo! I got a pink one!” Amy smiled, hopping and skipping back to her team’s place.
Of all her awards so far, she liked this 5th place ribbon the best because pink was her favorite color of all. Eyeing her parents though, Amy could see a frown on her father’s face. Daddy wasn’t looking so pleased about her winning a fifth place ribbon. Maybe he didn’t like pink so much as he seemed to love gold? Mommy however was very happy and was quick to take several pictures of her with the camera.
Amy stood patiently as each team approached the awards table to receive their ribbons and medals. From all over the state these teams had come together to compete for these prizes and qualify for the Southern Connecticut competition. The Southern Connecticut meet was the most important one of the year and you couldn’t compete in that unless you earned a medal in at least one event.
Amy however didn’t seem to know or care so much about where or when her next competition was. She just loved ballet and gymnastics and worked very hard at doing her best and learning new skills and routines. She just liked to make Coach Wysocki happy and make her parents proud of her, even her grumpy old Daddy. She did like her shiny gold medal and liked seeing the huge grin on her coach’s face and the gleam in her eyes, but all in all she wished she had another pink or maybe one of the shiny green ribbons instead.
“Why would you want one of those green ribbons? Those are for seventh place! Wouldn’t you rather have a gold medal for first place?” asked a volunteer noting Amy’s interest in the new ribbon her friend Lisa now wore on her chest for her score on the rhythmic gymnastics routine.
“I like the colors!” Amy beamed. “Gold isn’t as pretty as pink or shiny green.”
“I don’t get you Amy, you won a gold medal and a ribbon for your routines… you’re going to compete in the Southern Connecticut meet, and all you care about is the pretty colors on those stupid ribbons?” Coach Wysocki chimed in.
Amy shrugged and looked away. She knew what she liked and wasn’t going to listen to anyone else trying to change her mind.
“And that concludes the Nutmeg Regional Special Olympics Gymnastics Qualifier!” announced the event co-coordinator from his podium. “Congratulations to all our talented gymnasts and remember, at Special Olympics, everyone’s a winner!”
Amy smiled and cheered and clapped her hands loudly with all her friends and teammates. She won three shiny ribbons- one pink, one white, and one blue. She also won her first every medal in all her years of gymnastics! Now as everyone shook hands and hugged and smiled and giggled happily, Amy’s coach walked off somewhat disgustedly. She knew her team could not qualify for the State Summer Olympics at Southern Connecticut State University. One girl with one medal wasn’t enough for her to send a team or earn her additional recognition. The way she saw it, her class enrollment now would take a dip. People wouldn’t want to send their girls to learn gymnastics from a coach you only came back with a team adorned with fifth, sixth, and seventh place ribbons.
Mr. Cavanaugh had a few choice words to say to Coach Wysocki and immediately pulled her aside by the gymnasium and locker room exits. Mrs. Cavanaugh however rushed to celebrate her daughter’s incredible efforts and join in her happiness, offering to sweep her up in her arms and hug her snuggly.
“I did my best Mommy and I had lots of fun and wore my shiny leotard and got ribbons!” Amy exclaimed, pointing proudly to her pink 5th place, her white 6th place, and blue 4th place ribbons. She beamed even brighter when her mother kissed her forehead and admired her gold medal.
As they walked arm in arm towards the locker room however, Amy immediately caught the sight of a young gymnast crying. The girl was sobbing into her hands and crying, hiding her face from her disappointed parents, who didn’t seem impressed with her ribbons as she was. The girl wore her ribbons proudly across the front of her bright green leotard. Her father and mother however were looking down upon her with stern expressions and they were scolding her.
“Mommy, that’s not right. She’s a good gymnast!” Amy whispered firmly in her mother’s ear. “I want to help.”
Amy pulled her mother’s arm and led her towards the scene that had drawn Amy’s attention away from the locker room doors. The pretty, but saddened gymnast was upset and ashamed. She sobbed and wailed as her father and mother continued to scold and say mean things that Amy herself felt chilled from. Amy yelped when she thought she heard this girl’s father and mother call this pretty girl “stupid”.
Amy reached around her neck and lifted the gold medal she had earned and held it out to this gymnast.
“I don’t want this medal. I want you to have it because you are a good gymnast! It will make your Mommy and Daddy smile so they won’t say mean things,” Amy announced, handing her medal to the saddened girl.
The younger girl cupped the medal in her hands with widened eyes. Like Amy, she had never won a medal in all her life, let alone pretty ribbons. This had been her first competition ever with the Special Olympics. She was just happy to be here and just happy to have had the chance to dress in a leotard and do gymnastics- when so many told her she had no right to even dream of it.
“Thank you so much, you are so nice!” the young gymnast softly cried, rubbing tears from her soaked eyes.
“You are a good gymnast and I hope to see you again so we can be friends and do gymnastics together,” Amy replied, hugging her new friend warmly. “And we can be friends now.”
Amy and her friend hugged, while Amy’s mother smiled even more proudly at what her daughter had done. The young gymnast’s parents however huffed and puffed and looked down at the medal with mild satisfaction, muttering a half-hearted thanks to Amy.
Before Amy and her friend parted though and headed for the locker room to change clothes, they quickly exchanged “friendship” card from their gym bags which listed the name of their gym and how they could become pen-pals. Amy and her new friend, Rachel, walked hand-in-hand to the lockers, leaving their parents to ponder what they had done.
* * *
Later at the dinner table, Beverly Cavanaugh sat beside her daughter and smiled proudly at her.
“That was a very nice thing that you had done for that girl Amy. I am very proud of you.”
“That’s all that matters Mommy. She was a good gymnast and I did my best. She wanted that medal and I like my Mommy to be proud,” Amy replied.
posted by The Vampire, David at 6:39 PM
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