“Okay, you can stay here but make sure your sisters and brother are quiet and DON”T go roaming the halls. I’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”
I nodded and watched my dad walk down the bleak hospital hall. It was almost two hours later before my phone buzzed. I only absorbed bits and pieces of the conversation. Front of the hospital…prepping for surgery…tibia…femur…spleen…internal bleeding…lungs…lucky. Lucky? Lucky. I brushed away the tears and picked up my sleeping brother, I called to my sisters and we made our way to my parents.

It was December 28th; my eight years old sister was lying in a hospital bed and giving me the most important lesson.

For the next two years I watched my sister go through four surgery. I watched her cry out in agonizing pain. I watched her lose her ability to walk. I watched her persevere. NOt once did she give up on walking, not once did she let fear overcome her and not once did she give up playing and being an eight year old girl. My younger sister taught me to never give up.

No longer do I give up on my dreams, instead I give them power, I work for them and I achieve them. When fear comes rushing at me, I remember that night, picking up my sleeping brother, putting a smile on my face, and facing our worst fears. I face my trials head on I don’t let them overcome me. I beat them. I persevere.