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Tzippy Loses by One

Ages 6-9 | Story and 9 activities

The Bais Yaakov field day is Tzippy's favorite day of the year. She has been practicing the sack race for two whole weeks. Every afternoon she hops across the backyard in a pillowcase, with her little brother Mendy cheering from the porch.

"You're going to win," Mendy tells her. "You're the fastest hopper in the world."

On field day morning, the sun is bright and the grass smells fresh. The third grade lines up at the start. Tzippy stands in her sack with her knees bent and her eyes fixed on the finish line. Beside her stands Rochel, who is taller and has very long legs.

"On your mark," calls the gym teacher. "Get set. Go!"

Tzippy hops as hard as she can. Her sack bounces and swishes. The finish line grows closer. For a moment she is ahead. Then Rochel's long legs catch up. They hop side by side, side by side, and then...

Rochel crosses the line first, by a hair.

Tzippy lands in the grass. Her chest heaves, and her face burns. She has come in second, by only one hop. She has practiced for two weeks. It isn't fair.

She kicks off the sack and stomps across the field. Her eyes sting, and a hard, sour feeling rises in her throat.

"Tzippy! Great race!" calls a girl from her class.

"No, it wasn't," Tzippy snaps.

She sits down under the big maple tree and folds her arms. She doesn't want anybody near her.

After a few minutes, her friend Chana comes over and sits down. She doesn't say anything at first. She just sits there, pulling blades of grass.

"You're mad," says Chana at last.

"I almost won," says Tzippy. "By one hop. I practiced so much."

"That's really frustrating," says Chana. "You worked hard."

Tzippy's shoulders loosen a little. It helps that Chana isn't telling her to cheer up.

After a while, Tzippy says, "I don't want to be a bad sport. But I feel so grumpy."

"Feelings aren't bad," says Chana. "What you do with them is the part that matters. You can be grumpy and also kind."

Tzippy thinks about this. She takes three slow breaths, the way her teacher has taught the class. In for four, out for four. The sour feeling shrinks, like a balloon letting out air.

She looks across the field. Rochel is standing alone at the finish line, holding her ribbon. She doesn't look proud. She looks a little worried, as if she isn't sure whether anyone is upset with her.

Tzippy stands up. Her legs feel heavy, but she walks over.

"Congratulations, Rochel," she says. "You were really fast."

Rochel's whole face lights up. "Thank you! I thought you were going to beat me. You were so close. You're an amazing hopper."

"I practiced a lot," says Tzippy. "But so did you, I guess."

"Every day," says Rochel. "My Totty timed me with a stopwatch."

They both laugh. Tzippy realizes she doesn't feel the sour lump anymore. It is still a little disappointing, but it isn't the huge thing it was ten minutes ago.

"Want to race again at recess?" asks Rochel. "Just for fun?"

"Yes!" says Tzippy. "But I'm going to win."

"We'll see," says Rochel.

That evening, Mendy asks how it went. Tzippy tells him, "I came in second. Rochel won."

"Oh no," says Mendy.

"It's okay," says Tzippy. "I felt really mad for a while. But then I told Rochel congratulations. And we're going to race again. I think I don't mind losing as much when I can still be friends with the winner."

"Next time you'll win," says Mendy.

"Maybe," says Tzippy. She climbs into her pillowcase and hops up the porch steps, two at a time.