“Hey Gramps,” Belinda looked up to Leland in curiosity. “Wanna play a game of horseshoes?”
He looked back at her and smiled. “Of course, Sweet B.”
She laughed when he called her Sweet B, and then moved up to her place at the line for tossing. “I’ll go first.” She said joyfully.
Leland watched with pride as his granddaughter took her time, carefully placing her feet with precision. His pride grew as he watched her gently swinging her arm back and forth before releasing the horseshoe in an effort to have the most accurate aim possible.
“Aw! I missed!” Belinda pouted, watching her tossed horseshoe hit the sand with a soft thud, and not the sharp clang she had been hoping for. She looked back at her grandfather with pleading eyes, and she didn’t even have to ask.
“Why don’t you try again, Sport?” He suggested. “It’s important to get a lot of practice, if you want your skill to be perfect.”
“I do want to be perfect.” Belinda agreed, picking up the horseshoe and getting ready to try again.
“Seeking perfection in a craft is one thing, B,” he warned cautiously. “But remember to allow yourself to have imperfections, because you are wonderful as you are.”