This past fall my six-year-old daughter, Morgan, joined a soccer team for the first time. If you've ever seen my daughter, you know that she's petite - in the two percentile to be exact. With sports, she's got to work a little harder than the average to compete. When we showed up to the first practice equipped with shin guards, water bottle, and a shiny pink and white soccer ball, I wasn't sure what to expect, as she would be playing with girls that were older and bigger than her. But when we stepped out of the car, it was like releasing a dog in an open field for the first time. I just kind of stood there and watched as she made her way to the field, a little caught off guard by her excitement and courage. With only a few more games left in the season, Morgan was the only girl on the team who hadn't scored a goal, and I could tell it was starting to bother her a little bit. And that bothered me. As I watched from the sideline, I would try to help her by air kicking
...because life is worth writing about.