Today's Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul

[Guest guest]

The Red Ribbon

By Staci Stallings

Everyone wants to win a first-place blue ribbon, to be the best in something.

Even kids in kindergarten want that blue ribbon. In sports, I was never a

blue-ribbon person. In a race I was always last. In baseball I was likely to be

hit on the head or drop the ball. In basketball I was fine as long as there

weren't other players on the court with me. I don't know where I got my horrible

sports ability, but I got it - and got it early.

During the spring of my kindergarten year, our class had a field trip to a park

in a town about twenty miles away. Making that drive now is no big deal, but

when you're six and you've lived in a town of 300 people all your life, going to

a big town of a couple of thousand people is a major event. I don't remember

much of that day, but I'm sure we ate our little sack lunches, played on the

swings and slid down the slide - typical six-year-old stuff. Then it was time

for the races.

These were no ordinary races. Someone had come up with the idea to have picnic

kind of races, like pass the potato under your neck and hold an egg on a spoon

while you run to the finish line. I don't remember too much about those, but

there was one that I will never forget - the three-legged race.

The parents decided not to use potato sacks for this particular event. Instead,

they tied our feet together. One lucky little boy got me for a partner. Now what

you have to know about this little boy is that he was the second most athletic

boy in our class. I'm sure he knew he was in trouble the second they laced his

foot to mine. As for me, I was mortified. This guy was a winner. He usually won

at everything, and I knew that with me tied to him he didn't have a chance.

Apparently, he didn't realize that as deeply as I did at the time. He laced his

arm with mine, the gun sounded and we were off. Couples were falling and

stumbling all around us, but we stayed on our feet and made it to the other

side. Unbelievably, when we turned around and headed back for home, we were in

the lead! Only one other couple had a chance to win, and they were a good

several yards behind us.

A few feet from the finish line, disaster struck: I tripped and fell. We were

close enough that my partner could have easily dragged me across the finish line

and won. He could have, but he didn't. Instead, he stopped, reached down and

helped me up - just as the other couple crossed the finish line. We received a

small red ribbon for coming in second.

I still remember that moment, and I still have that little red ribbon. When we

graduated thirteen years later, I stood on the stage and gave the valedictory

address to the same group of students, none of whom even remembered that moment

anymore. I told them about the young boy who had made a split-second decision

and decided that helping a friend get on her feet was more important than

winning a blue ribbon. I said, " One of the boys sitting up here on the stage is

that young boy, but I won't tell you which one he is. " I wouldn't tell because

in truth, at one time or another, all of them had been that little boy - helping

me up when I fell, taking time out from their pursuit of their own goals to help

a fellow person in need.

And I told them why I'd kept the ribbon. " You see, to me that ribbon is a

reminder that you don't have to be a winner in the eyes of the world to be a

winner to those closest to you. The world may judge you a failure or a success,

but those closest to you will know the truth. That's important to remember as we

travel through life. "

You may not have a red ribbon to prove it, but I sincerely hope you have at

least a few friends who took time out from their pursuit of the world's blue

ribbons to help you. I'm thinking those friends will be the ones who really

count - I know that such a friend was the one who counted the most to me.