But when the fallen youngster crossed the line, last place, The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race. And even though he came in last, with head bowed low, unproud; You would have thought he won the race, to listen to the crowd. And to his dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.” “To me, you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.” And now when things seem dark and hard and difficult to face, The memory of that little boy helps me in my race. For all of life is like