Another First, for the Fifth

How does it feel to always be the last to do a first? Not as much build up and excitement from the family, perhaps? Parents who seem a little scatterbrained until the last minute when they tell you how important it is to do your best and that this is "your first ___!"? Help and attention divided between 5 instead of 1, or 2, or 4?

My prayer, dear number five, is that you can remember that this first in your life was a great milestone and big accomplishment. You worked hard to learn new things, and followed your book's instructions with earnestness not seen around here in a while. You were gracious when the hope of a new bike turned into time with Daddy fixing up what you already had.

When the big day came, you donned your gear and wheeled in your bike even though no one else in the building looked like you or had to bring something so different. You spoke clearly when signing in and didn't glance back once when it was your turn to be judged. And even though you told us later that you forgot what the exact job of the back brakes were ("sorry, Dad!"), you answered the judge's questions and did a great job! You even won an "A" ribbon and State Fair Representative! In your first 4-H judging ever. Great job, number five.