It was my first year teaching in a special needs classroom, and I wasn’t sure what to expect at our yearly Special Olympics track meet. My students had a range of challenges, from mild learning disabilities to severe palsy (瘫痪).

Mark was one with severe palsy. Restricted (限制) to a wheelchair, he had to fight his spasms (痉挛) just to control his movements. However, he always had a positive attitude and greeted everyone each morning with a huge smile.

His classmates loved him and always took the time to make sure he was included in group activities, especially Mike, Andy and Lucas, three boys who were good at sports. In my heart I knew Mark wanted to be like them, unrestricted by the limitations of his body, and watching the grace with which they moved on the playing field seemed to fill him with wonder. He never missed their competitions and always cheered for them. Seeing Mike, Andy and Lucas passing the finish line, Mark looked extremely excited.

When track and field day came, Mike, Andy and Lucas placed well in their heats (预赛), and gave the normally peaceful crowd something to cheer about. Mark sat on the sidelines, cheering them on, and placing last in his own heat because his wheelchair wouldn’t go fast enough.

The final event of the day was the 400-meter race. Everyone was invited to either walk or run, according to their ability, around the entire length of the track. We watched as the students took off—Mike, Andy and Lucas determined to prove who the best player was.

But when the three exhausted runners reached the finish line, they stopped and turned to look behind them. At the back of the crowd, determined not to be left behind, was Mark. His classmates had passed him by and even the slowest walkers were outdistancing him.

Mark was alone on the track with over half the distance left to finish.

Mark was moved to see his three friends come back and run with him.

I had been swimming competitively for five years but after such a long time, I was ready to quit. I was often the only African American at the swimming competitions and our team couldn’t afford good uniforms. However, my number-one reason for wanting to quit was that I kept receiving “Honorable Mentions (荣誉奖)”. Any athlete knows that you don’t want to have a bookshelf full of “Honorable Mentions”, which you get just because you showed up.

One summer’s day, the day before a big swim meeting, I decided to tell my grandma that I was quitting the swim team. When I told her, she looked me in the eye and said, “Baby, remember these words ‘Quitters never win and winners never quit.’ Your grandmother didn’t raise losers or quitters. You go to that meeting tomorrow, and you swim like you are a grandchild of mine, you hear?” I was too afraid to say anything but “Yes, ma’am.”

The next day we arrived at the swim meeting late, missing my group of swimmers in the 15/16 age group. My coach insisted I should be allowed to swim with the older group. I knew she expected me to take part.

As I mounted the board, all the other girls looked at me. I quickly noticed that these girls were all here to do just one thing — beat me. All of a sudden, my grandma’s words rang in my head, “Quitters never win and winners never quit. You swim like you are a grandchild of mine.” “Yes, Grandma, I will swim like I am a grandchild of yours,” I said to myself.