They all lined up so full
of hope, each thought to win the race
Or tie for first or if not that at least take a second place.
And parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their child
Each one hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they went, young hearts and hopes afire
To win and be the hero there was each runner's desire.
And one runner in particular whose dad was in the crowd
Was running near the lead and thought, "my dad will be so proud!"
But as they speeded down the field across the shallow dip
The runner who thought to win lost his step and slipped
Trying hard to catch himself his hands flew out to brace
And mid the laughter of the crowd he fell fiat on his face.
So down he fell and with him hope - he could not win it now.
Embarrassed, sad he only wished to disappear somehow;
But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face
Which to the boy so clearly said "Get up and win the race."
He quickly rose no damage done - to catch up and to win -
His mind went faster than his legs; he slipped and fell again
I'm hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn't try to race."
But in the laughing crowd he searched and found his father's face
That steady look which said again. "Get up and win the race."
So up he jumped to try again - ten yards behind the last.
"If I'm trying to gain those yards", he thought, "I've got to move real fast!"
Exerting everything he had he regained eight of ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He laid there silently - a tear dropped from his eye
There's no sense running anymore, three strikes I'm out. Why Try?
The will to rise had disappeared; all hope had fled away.
So far behind, so error prone, a loser all the way.
"I've lost so what's the use?" he thought, "I'll have to live with my disgrace"
But then he thought above his dad, who soon he'd have to face.
"Get up!" an echo sounded low. "Get up and take your place."
"With borrowed will get up" he said. "You haven't lost at all.
For winning is no more than this: to rise each time you fall."
So up he rose to run once more and now with new commit
He resolved that win or lose, at least he would not quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he'd ever been
Still he gave it all he had and ran as through to win.
Three times he'd fallen, stumbling; three times he rose again
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.
They cheered the winning runner as he crossed the line first place
Head high and proud and happy - no falling, no disgrace,
But when the fallen youngster crossed the line last place,
The crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last, with head bowed low - unproud
You would have thought he'd won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, "I didn't do so well."
"To me, you won," his father said, "you rose each time you fell."
So when your life seems dark and hard, things difficult to face
Nay the memory of that little boy help you in your race.
For all of life is like a race, with ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.