The Application Form That Was Never Sent

In high school, Ah-Cheh wanted to participate in the school-wide public speaking competition. He practiced in his room for a whole month. When he finally tried speaking in front of his family, he got so nervous he forgot his lines, drawing laughter from his younger brother. He crumpled up the application form, feeling he was completely unsuited for it. The next day, his teacher noticed he hadn't submitted the form and asked why. Ah-Cheh lowered his head and said, "I'm afraid of embarrassing myself on stage." The teacher didn't comfort him, but simply asked, "Then, did you practice for a month to guarantee you wouldn't embarrass yourself, or to enable yourself to stand on stage someday?" That question made him fall silent for a long time. Finally, he reprinted the application form and submitted it. On the day of the competition, he still forgot a part of his speech, his palms sweating. In the end, he only got third place. He was very disappointed, but he didn't crumple up his report card this time. The following year, he joined the public speaking club, practicing pronunciation, controlling his breathing, and learning to face mistakes. Before graduation, he participated in the competition again. This time, as he stood on stage, looking at the nervous, trembling freshmen in the audience, he suddenly remembered himself from that year. He didn't win first place, but after it was over, he received a note: "Senpai, seeing you makes me feel like I can try too." That day, Ah-Cheh put the note in his wallet. He finally understood that what he had truly overcome wasn't the ranking, but the self who couldn't even dare to apply back then. <Growth isn't about one day finally not being afraid, but about when you are afraid, you are still willing to fill out that application form for yourself.>