Daring to Fly

When the Young One was three, her pre-school teacher approached me on the playground as I waited for my child to work her way down from the top of the jungle gym. “She may be the smallest one in her class,” the teacher said with a shake of her head, “but she is our biggest daredevil!”

I laughed and nodded along. Yes, my youngest child has always had a desire to keep her feet off the ground. As a baby she wanted nothing more than to jump…and jump…and jump.


I first learned about the Young One’s jumping joy in an orphanage in Russia.

Then she learned to climb, working her way up the tall ladder of our neighbor’s play set. Next came the monkey bars, even though she was too little to grab the bars herself.

My daughter is a daredevil.

So it came as no surprise when, as we watched the West Point jump team parachute into Michie Stadium two weeks ago, that she jumped to her feet as soon as she saw the tiny dots floating out of the helicopter.



Realizing the dots were people, she raised her arms in the air, jumped in circles, and exclaimed, “I want to do that! I want to do that!”

"I want to do that! I want to do that!"

“I want to do that! I want to do that!”

She watched with fascination as the jumpers swooped and looped. Her smiled widened when the colorful parachutes burst from their packs, and she didn’t take her eyes from her new heroes until they touched down on the football field to announce the beginning of the game.


A safe landing.

Since leaving West Point, she talks of little but her new desire.  As I look through the pictures from that day, I can almost see the instant she decided she would one day fly through the sky.

A dream is born.

A dream is born.

And as I look at this smile, I want nothing more than to see her fly too.

Five Minute Friday***Today’s post was brought to you by Five Minute Friday and the word “fly”. If your fingers can fly across the keyboard at lightning speed and you have great stories to tell, join us on Lisa-Jo Baker’s site quick blogging fun.


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