Warning: This post is an unabashed brag about my oldest daughter.
The two things I admire most about Asenath Rose are that she never gives up and she never complains.
Last winter she went to a friend's birthday party at a roller skating rink. She had never skated before. When Sena came home, she laughed as she told me that she had fallen fifteen times. She exhibited no embarrassed or self-consciousness. She proclaimed the party a complete success.
Every year for the past three years, Sena has written and submitted a play to a small, local children's playwriting competition. She eagerly awaits the day they announce the winners. For three years in a row, she has discovered that her play has not been picked. Again. And yet, for the past two weeks she has been hard at work for next year's entry.
Sena has also auditioned for play's produced by the same local theater. Time and again she has been cast as an extra or in a bit role. This summer, when I told her that she was cast as Student #2, she cried. Another part without even a name. But she stuck it out, went to her rehearsals, and for the sake of the play, even made the decision to stay with my parents when we went on a previously planned camping trip. Two days before the play opened, a girl with a much larger role dropped out, and Sena got it. I'm not sure if I had ever seen her more excited.
My daughter doesn't have a wall of trophies or medals, plagues or certificates proving how amazing and talented she is. There are times when I wish the world would acknowledge her. But she isn't special because of any accomplishments. She's special because of the person she is, the person deep in her that rises to the surface when she laughs heartily at her own failures.