Aleksandra G., a sixth grader, writes:

I watched my mother as she put the odd white shoes on my feet.  On the bottom of the shoes were blades that I had been told earlier not to touch.  Of course, that just made it more tempting.

My mother tied the laces tight.  The odd shoes didn’t feel good on my feet; they didn’t belong.  I didn’t want them on my feet.

Soon my mother finished and I tried to stand up.  I wobbled and fell back onto the bench.  I hoped I wasn’t expected to try again, but just my luck, I was.  I started complaining.

“I want to go home.  Take these off, Mommy!”  I whined, pointing at the odd shoes.

“Just go this one time.  If you don’t like it we won’t come back,” she promised me.

“I already don’t like it!”  But even as I whined, I knew the discussion was closed and over with.

Then a tall blond lady came over to us.  She wore the odd shoes, too, but hers were black.  She walked on them easily and with grace.  I thought she looked pretty and kind.  She introduced herself as Irma and while she spoke with my mother I tried again.  I slowly stood up on the blades and held on the bench for balance.  I took a step, still holding on.  Standing on the blade wasn’t comfortable, it was weird, but this time I didn’t complain.  I had a strong urge to not let the lady, Irma, down, and I didn’t think complaining and whining would help.

I didn’t sit back down; instead, I slowly let go of the bench.  I did it!  I had stood up by myself on the weird blade-shoes.

When my mother saw me, I saw a smile spread across her face, a smile that filled me with pride and joy.  Later Irma explained to me that the odd blade-shoes on my feet, as well as her feet, were called ice skates.  After a while she took me into the next room,.  Suddenly it was very cold.  I looked in front of me and saw that there was a rink of ice.

I walked forward slightly wobbling, and got closer to the ice.  Irma helped me onto the ice.  I took one step.  All of a sudden my feet flew out from under me!  I felt myself get closer to the ground, and I prepared myself for a sharp pain.  But the pain never came.  I opened my eyes to see that Irma had caught me.  She helped me walk on the ice, but it was hard.  The ice was slippery and the blades made it even harder.  Eventually, though, I got the hang of it.  Being able to do it made me feel great.  I took another step, glad that my mother had convinced, well, forced me to go.

Irma continued to help me skate for a while longer.  But before I knew it she told me my class was over.  Disappointment surged through me.  We slowly skated back to my mom, who was waiting for me at the entrance.  She greeted me with a hug that left me breathless.

“Did you have fun?” she asked me.

“Yeah!”  I replied happily.

And ever since then I have been skating….