To me claiming a "victory" means you have overcome something. Maybe you have been fighting for something and have won. Or, you've had a trying time for some reason and now you've gotten past it. But to me it means you have struggled, pressed forward, defied the odds and have been "victorious". For my daughter that might be her feelings about what you see in this picture.

This is my daughter, Michelle, and I crossing the finish line in her first race ever. We were running the Canal Digger's Race in Worcester, Ma. this past October. She had trained for only 3 weeks and was worried about running the race and all the "things" that could happen. This is how most people feel before they throw themselves into the world of running races. To her finishing the race was a victory. And a great one at that.

To me, however, that is not what this finish and picture mean. I have always told Michelle to strive to do the best she can at whatever she chooses to do in life. But, I've never tried to push her to be great at something that I thought she should do. I never pushed her to run because I knew that, although I loved to run, it was not her "thing".

Michelle decided that she wanted to join me in this race. It was HER that took on the challenge to train and get ready to run the Canal Digger's Race with her dad. It was HER choice to come out to the race that day dispite all the butterflies in her stomach and worries in her head. But, she came. She ran. She is celebrating a victory in this picture and deserves to be doing so.

To me, however, crossing a finish line with my daughter, hands clentched and raised high was a time for my heart to be filled with pride, my soul to rejoice, and my spirit to celebrate the answer to prayer.