My youngest daughter came home from her first grade school and handed me a note that a teacher had given her.
When I opened the folded paper she was holding in her hand, I read the following, written in beautiful handwriting:
Mrs. Mom.
We have selected your daughter to attend table tennis practice at the Sports Institute. She has an aptitude for the sport. If she is able to attend, we will be at practice at 3:00 p.m.
Sincerely
Professor Byron
I approached my daughter and asked her what activity she had done with the physical education teachers.
"They had me hit a tiny yellow ball with a racquet".
"And did you like it?"
"Yes"
"And you want me to take you to practice?".
"Yes mommy.
She was only six years old, and I started to take her three times a week to the
Sports Institute, where several groups of tennis players practiced, from the youngest to adults. The atmosphere was very good, and the two teachers who taught the children were Cuban. They had arrived in the country through an agreement between the Venezuelan government and Cuba. They were excellent coaches, and I thought it was a good activity for my daughter.
The teachers were very enthusiastic about her because she was the youngest and learned quickly.
"Don't forget to bring her, madam, we are going to train your daughter for the competitions, first the state ones and then the national ones".
That motivated us even more, and we did everything we could to make sure she didn't miss classes. I had to work hard to leave at least two days a week at 2:30 p.m. to get to the Sports Institute on time. On the days she couldn't, her older sisters would take her. Her father bought her a racquet, balls, and weights appropriate for her age, to strengthen her arms. She had a whole family team supporting her.
Sitting on the bleachers during training hours was very pleasant for me. I could see her being so small, but very dedicated to her training and getting better and better at it. The teachers, in addition to teaching her the techniques, would have her play with older children, and she did very well. In addition, at those times, I would talk with other parents who also accompanied their children.
Those were months of learning for my daughter.
In sports she learned discipline and responsibility and she never missed practice.
One of the teachers, much loved by his students, finished his work and returned to his country. There remained a Cuban teacher who continued to train them with the help of another Venezuelan teacher, but after a few months, it was also time for him to return. In gratitude for his dedication to the children and his simple and kind treatment, we gave him a very emotional farewell, and I remember that she told me to continue supporting my daughter in the sport, not to give up because he knew that she was a champion.
But my daughter thought differently, and in spite of her young age, she told me one day.
"Mommy, I like to play table tennis, but I don't want to compete. The teacher tells me I have to do it but I don't like it".
I tried to explain to her that when you practice on a sports team, the goal is to compete and that she shouldn't be afraid to do it. She could lose or win, and the important thing was to give it her all.
I could not convince her, and over time she became unmotivated; perhaps she was influenced by the fact that her teachers were no longer there to support her, and little by little she lost interest and did not want to return. For her, tennis was more of a game than a competition in which she had to face another player under the pressure of having to win.
When she was able to choose an activity that she liked, she decided on dance, and now, after several years, she continues to urban dance in an academy where everyone participates in the choreography, and when they go to compete, they do it as a team.
Thank you for reading my story. Its my entry in No ficción creativa en The Ink Well Prompt #45
Traductor www.deepl.com