Hello… I’m Joey. I’m small compared to the others, but I try. Jumping doesn’t come easy — at least, not at first. I’d watch the grown-ups and even other youngsters hop with grace, while my feet tangled and I tumbled. I admit, I felt ashamed. Laughter stung; even when no harm was meant, it cut deep.

But each fall gave me something else — the chance to rise. With practice, with patience, and with encouragement from my parents, I discovered the rhythm inside me. Jumping isn’t about being perfect from the start — it’s about trusting your legs, trusting yourself, and believing that even small leaps count.

I’m sensitive, yes. Words can wound, and teasing lingers. But I’ve also found that kindness heals faster than any bruise. If you’re willing, I’ll share with you the secret of persistence: keep hopping, even when the ground seems rough. Sooner or later, you’ll find your stride. And when you do, oh — the sky feels wide, and your heart leaps higher than your feet ever could.