My daughter Molly was eight. She was1to try new things. She felt comfortable and could talk freely to her good friends, but it was hard for2to be like that when she was not in the comfort zone*.
This term, surprisingly*, she said she wanted to join her school3team. The team had a try-out* every year to pick the best members. To help her, our family always exercised with her on weekends. When the day of the try-out came, we all4in the dark of the morning to cheer her. On the way to school, we5a lot of things she would need and kept talking with her. She looked good. But when we waited two hours for other kids to finish6her turn*, she held my hand tightly. It was not difficult to find she was nervous* but tried not to show it.
It was a long time to wait.7, it was her turn. She stood there with hands shaking. I saw this and started to8about her. To my surprise, she ran so fast that she became the first one to finish the race.
I9felt so proud* of someone in my life. It wasn't because she won or did anything like that. It was because she was afraid of something but she made it at last. All day I just looked at her and smiled. I wasn't the winner myself10I felt like I won that day. I won the chance to see the change of my daughter Molly.
