This week I celebrated the start to my LeBron year (I’m from Ohio, don’t hate). Thank you to everyone who sent me birthday wishes and virtual hugs. You guys know how to make a girl feel special. To those who didn’t, well you’re dead to me. Just kidding. High grace.
I didn’t really have high expectations for my birthday. I was in a small town in the middle jungle of Panama. I figured a birthday cake and presents were out of the question since we only had one supermercado near us. I was a little disappointed I wouldn’t be getting a pony for the 23rd birthday in a row, but what can you do?
I simply started that morning as I do with every other morning: I had a conversation with God while eating corn flakes. It was Sunday, so I put on my stereotypical missionary, floor-length, black skirt; tucked in my striped shirt that every other Racer seems to have; and strapped on my typical Chacos. I was ready for church at the reservation deep in the mountains.
As I was walking out of my room, I heard Janele call me over to her room. What on Earth could she need me for? I entered to see my team singing Feliz Cumpleanos and presenting me with a strawberry cookie sandwich with a single candle poked through the middle. I was overwhelmed by their effort to make my birthday special despite our meager supplies.
“Make a wish!” Nettie exclaimed as they finished singing.
A wish? I don’t have a wish.
I literally could not think of one thing to wish for. I looked at the amazing group of women whom I have been blessed to call teammates and friends. I already got my wish. I have the privilege to travel around the world with 19 people who love me and whom I love dearly.
The Race isn’t the end all be all for me; I do have plans and hopes for the future. But right now, I am beyond content.
