A Toast, to Failure

A lesson to be learned, from the failures, as each and every time we didn’t make it, we learn, to improve ourselves for the better the next time go around, translated…

I’d, raised that cup of rice tea to my son, “Congrats on your completed mission, here’s to you!”, and, I saw his eyes and brows, turned into a curvy line of relief.

This Japanese style curry shop was my son’s favorite, he’d chosen to fill up his stomach he’d neglected, for the sake of competition.  Normally, I would have him watch the intake of his food, and he’d always, objected to me how he couldn’t order the super-sized portions.  Tonight, before we entered into the shop, he’d, turned to me, stated, “I want the super-sized portions!”, I’d smiled, and agreed, thought that it’s, a reward for his hard work during this period of time.  As we sat, we kept checking the competitions website for the latest updates, and, the foods became, tasteless.  As he’d learned that he’d not placed, he’d, started mixing the loss with that bowl of curry, swallowing it all down.

The first bite was “regret”, as he’d picked the selection of topic, “the favorite song I loved to sing”, he couldn’t, seem to, remember the name of that song he loved so much; the second bite, “ego”, he thought that the way he’d carried himself, and his articulateness, could help him getting a better score, without realizing, the importance of the contents of his speech; the third bite being “defeat”, he’d often stood on the side of success, he’d never, tasted his own failures………

here’s to you, on a lesson you’d learnedphoto from online

As I’d accompanied my son to the speech rehearsals to going on stage, we’d stolen time out of our schedules: every night before bedtime, at breakfast, on the way to school, we’d, discussed the contents of his speech, to find the faults in the contents, the mannerisms, and I’d, slowly understood my son’s beliefs and thoughts, and I’d, helped him find the values which was right, what surprised me more, was how we were able to recall how we’d interacted with him, and how all of the interactions we’d shared with him had, left such a deep impression on him.

Like the judging instructor told him, this speech competition isn’t the end, it’s, merely, a break my son needed, to take, to examine the path he’d taken, to keep on going.  I hope, that as my son struggled in the muddied swamps, he’d learned to stand back up with his injuries, start to embrace who he truly is.

And so, this is how this parent viewed her son’s failure in the speech contest, and, because the son didn’t win, he’d become, upset, and the mother guided him, to find out what he needed to improve in, so he can be better the next time.