The Winter Olympics are my favorite. I don’t live where there is a lot of snow, but I love snow-covered mountains. I once took a vacation to Geneva, Switzerland, alone, just to witness snow. I know that I could have gone to Colorado, but I wanted to see the Alps. One day, I took a day-trip to Chamonix and the French Alps. I rode a cable car to the top of the mountain, and the view was so magnificent. My daughter asked why I took so many pictures of the snow. I saw skiing for the first time, and it was like watching a ballet.
To ski takes courage, and as I watched people come down the mountain, I was enthralled by the sheer beauty of their movement. So, I love watching the skiing competitions in the Winter Olympics. I like the downhill races, but my favorite is the Big Air competitions. When those young men and women come racing down the ramp and take off, I feel as though I am with them in the air. I pray for safe landings, and I am overjoyed when they don’t fall. It is a marvel to me that anyone has the strength and the courage to soar like they do.
I root for each one, no matter what country they are from, because the danger is the same. I am enamored of their skills and how much work they must do to be ready for such a feat. I am reminded that if we are to soar and succeed in whatever we want to achieve, we must put in the work, be disciplined, and dream big. To me, there are few other sports more challenging than getting your body to flip and turn in the air! It’s probably the closest we come, as humans, to being like the birds, soaring high and hoping to touch the face of God.
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