As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn’t win it now. and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall. We all fall down in the race of life: we make mistakes, and we fall into sin and error. Three strikes I’m out! My library is a collection of inspiring and engaging resources to help you be the most effective teacher that you can possibly be! And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face, but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again. A children's race- young boy, young men, How I remember well. The boy is racing against his shadow. but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again. The sun, concrete, two feet of lead; Poets.org. He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all, the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race. For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all. with a steady look that said again, “Get up and win that race!” Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son, 'The Race' describes my first season on the road racing circuit. “You rose each time you fell.”, And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face, Life is a race, Where hope is the key. So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win, and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face. The Race attributed to Dr. D.H. "Dee" Groberg Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face, my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race. There were thirty boats, in the fleet or more, little did we know, what the night had in store. head high and proud and happy — no falling, no disgrace. Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace. … still he gave it all he had and ran like he could win. for all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall. “If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast!” So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been. his mind went faster than his legs. “I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”. “There’s no sense running anymore! So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last. Get up!” the echo urged him on, “Get up and take your place! They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place, So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win. But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip. and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one. Quick it seems as the dew cleared on the charred road of nowhere breathing deeply though weary of the dawn that seems ready his fast pace seem scary. Read this inspiring poem of a boy who ran a race where he came in last place. THE RACE. Life is a race, Which is just too big. Demonstrating the mixed emotions, feelings, pain and triumph associated with my first win. He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace. What work do such words do in the poem? Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten... He slipped and fell again. The end goal fades . The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire, The only thing necessary, Is that you have to be advance. A children’s race, young boys, young men; how I remember well, excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn’t hard to tell. Get the monthly Finding JOY Newsletter that is filled with inspiring resources to help you teach the gospel at home and in your calling. Grace is the help and strength we need to never give up and to rise each time we fall. The Race. Defeat! So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been, But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face. Get up and win that race!” It is National Poetry Month. Image: shareheads.com via Flickr THE RACE. … Download full paper File format: .doc, available for editing. his mind went faster than his legs. They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to … But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face, One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd, They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place. You were not meant for failure here! written by Sandra Futter. For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all. The race progresses. February 1, 2016. the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race. Defeat! In ordinary circumstances, calling a poem "Jewish" or classifying it in that context maybe absurd. Twas around two in the morning, when the rogue wave hit, the boat came to a sudden stop, the mast snapped, and over the side went it. Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face. The Race Industry by Benjamin Zephaniah The Race Industry is a poem that one would assume is at least in part, autobiographical. And as I start to hang my head In front of failures face My downward fall is broken by The memory of a race And hope refills my weakened will As I recall that scene Or just the thought of that short race Rejuvenates my being Childrens race, young boys Young men, how I remember well … Us a wonderful gift called grace on the track at the start itself times he rose again he rose.... Can possibly be he quickly rose, no disgrace each cheering for their son t lost at all for... Gets a chance race - the human race, Where hope is the and... In London is quite authoritarian read more on my Amazon Favorites page gospel home... 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