She lived in a warm, friendly neighborhood where summer days were filled with laughter, ice cream trucks, and the daily routines of families enjoying the outdoors. At seven years old, she was imaginative, energetic, and always exploring new ways to entertain herself. Across the street stood a well-used basketball hoop where neighborhood kids often played after school. She would watch them through her bedroom window or from the edge of her driveway, admiring the rhythm of the bouncing ball and the cheer that followed a successful shot. Her family didn’t own a hoop, and her shy nature kept her from asking to join. Still, the desire remained, quietly growing each day.
Because she didn’t have the equipment, she practiced in her own way—using her driveway as an imaginary court, pretending to dribble and shoot with determination. Though invisible to others, those small routines made her feel connected to the sport she loved watching so much. Every afternoon, she would glance across the street, wondering whether the neighborhood kids would invite her or whether she should gather the courage to approach them. Her parents reminded her to respect others’ space, so she remained hesitant, unsure of how to express her wish. Still, her curiosity and dedication never faded. She watched, learned, and waited. Continue reading…
