You might not know this about me, but I love volleyball.  I have ever since I was a little girl in elementary school, and one of the local moms in our apartment complex would put up a net between our buildings.  Kids (and parents!) from all over the complex would come out and play.  Sometimes we even had 10 on a side!  It was crazy!  But I loved it.  Always had.  Still do!

Anyway, when I was in high school, I joined the volleyball team.  I was so excited to play on an actual team! 

I remember my first day.  There were all these girls I didn't know.  Now, mind you, I went to this tiny little country school.  Everybody knew everybody.  But I didn't know THESE girls!  I was a public school kid, all the way through, but these girls came from the local Catholic School.  I was one of two girls from public school on my team.  The rest were "them."  And they were gooooood!   Turned out, they played competitively since the 5th grade, already knew what positions they were, how to serve overhanded, and everything!  This was my first year!  I didn't even know there were positions!  What's a "setter"?

Needless to say, I was benched most of the season... even for the "freshman" games.

That following spring, during the track season, I experienced what I can now reflect on as a moment of Divine Providence.  I overheard two of the coaches discussing who was coming up from 8th grade graduation at that local Catholic School, how many of them planned on playing volleyball, and that there might be so many of them that they would actually have to hold try-outs, an almost-unheard-of concept at a country school with only 350 total kids enrolled in 9th-12th grades!

So, I bravely asked the coaches if they thought that I'd make the team (another Providencial moment).  They said no. 

I was glad for their honesty, though, because it put the determination in me to work that summer.  I asked to borrow a school volleyball to take home.  All that summer I ran farmer's fields and gravel roads, practiced my overhanded serves, and did tons and tons of setting/bumping volleys up against the house.

When volleyball started back up in the fall, there were no try-outs after all.  Though I was ready for them, I was relieved.  That year, I actually saw some real court time.  Not a ton, but enough to earn my JV letter.  It took me two years to achieve that small letter "W"!

But I was still determined to improve.  By the next year, my junior year, I was a starting defensive player and an ace-server.  Too short to play net and not a designated "setter" (I was now fully aware what one one of those was), I was a rotational player with another taller gal: she played front row, I played back row, and we played as though we were a single player. 

And I earned my Varsity letter in just one season!  Woohoo!  I had, indeed, improved.  ^_^

Now, I'm a mom, and my own daughter is the age I was 21 years ago when I began that journey of self-improvement.  She'll be playing on the local homeschool team, and I intend to be the assistant coach.

So many memories.  I hope hers are also sweet!  May Providence guide her!

Go, Winfield Warriors! 

Go, Homeschool Patriettes!!