A Tradition Passed On

A Tradition Passed On

I felt a tap on my shoulder and a charge of energy rushing through me as I took off. A slight breeze caressed my face and ran its airy fingers gently through my hair. As my eyes glazed over with fond memories of my father teaching me, an uncontrollable urge to go faster engulfed my body.


I sped past people like a flash of light. My hair flapped in the wind. The swirling of lights and music made my heart pound. I loved the thrill of the ground zooming under my feet. That thought sent me flying faster. The blood pumping through my veins was electrified with a sense of careless freedom.


Then I saw her. She had long blond hair and a petite frame. Clinging to her left hand was an undersized young boy struggling to keep his balance.


The realization that my time was almost up leapt into my mind. I slowed down and got behind her. I reached out and tapped her on the shoulder. The words “your turn” tumbled breathlessly out of my mouth. The boy’s tiny hand fell into mine.


I watched his eyes fill with excitement and fear as the woman soared away. He looked up at me and said,
"Mommy, I want to skate as fast as you and Aunt Cindy one day."