In a distant land where the sky always seemed just a little closer to the earth, there lived a boy named LYONYA. He was ten years old, and his greatest passion in life was competing. LYONYA loved running, playing chess, solving puzzles against the clock, and even racing bicycles with his friends. His room was filled with medals and trophies, and the walls were adorned with certificates from various competitions.
But LYONYA had a secret he never shared with anyone: he was deeply afraid of losing. Every time he failed to win, his heart felt as though an invisible rope tightened around it, squeezing painfully. "I'm no good," he would think, lowering his head to hide his tears from everyone.
But LYONYA had a secret he never shared with anyone: he was deeply afraid of losing. Every time he failed to win, his heart felt as though an invisible rope tightened around it, squeezing painfully. "I'm no good," he would think, lowering his head to hide his tears from everyone.
One day, a big race was announced in their village. All the children were thrilled: the course ran through the forest, down a hillside, and ended at the highest point in the village — Summit Hill. The prize was something special: a giant kite capable of soaring higher than the tallest trees.
LYONYA couldn’t miss such an event. He trained from morning till night, running through the village streets and even splashing through puddles after the rain, leaving behind a trail of muddy footprints.
"This time, I have to win," he whispered to himself.
LYONYA couldn’t miss such an event. He trained from morning till night, running through the village streets and even splashing through puddles after the rain, leaving behind a trail of muddy footprints.
"This time, I have to win," he whispered to himself.
The day of the race arrived. The sky was clear, and the air was cool, filled with the scent of pine trees and fresh grass. LYONYA stood at the starting line with the other kids, feeling his heart pounding like a drum.
When the starting whistle blew, LYONYA surged forward. His legs moved like a true athlete’s. He knew he had to outrun everyone to prove to himself that he was the best.
But halfway through the course, on a forest path, his foot caught on a tree root hidden beneath fallen leaves. LYONYA fell. Dust tickled his nose, his scraped knee stung, and worst of all, he saw the other children passing him by.
Tears filled his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away, got up, and kept running. He didn’t want to give up, but when he crossed the finish line, he was far from first place.
When the starting whistle blew, LYONYA surged forward. His legs moved like a true athlete’s. He knew he had to outrun everyone to prove to himself that he was the best.
But halfway through the course, on a forest path, his foot caught on a tree root hidden beneath fallen leaves. LYONYA fell. Dust tickled his nose, his scraped knee stung, and worst of all, he saw the other children passing him by.
Tears filled his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away, got up, and kept running. He didn’t want to give up, but when he crossed the finish line, he was far from first place.
The crowd greeted the winners with applause, while LYONYA stood aside, feeling insignificant. "I couldn’t do it. I’m no good. Why did I even participate?" he thought.
"Are you okay, LYONYA?" someone asked, but he just nodded without looking at the speaker and walked off into the forest.
"Are you okay, LYONYA?" someone asked, but he just nodded without looking at the speaker and walked off into the forest.
He walked along the forest path until he reached his favorite clearing. There, he lay down on the grass and looked up at the sky. The white clouds drifted slowly, changing shapes: one looked like an elephant, another like a ship, and the third like his favorite kite.
"Why am I so weak? Why can’t I be the best?" he asked aloud, not expecting an answer.
But then he noticed one of the clouds had stopped right above him. It seemed unusually low and oddly dense, as if it were watching LYONYA.
LYONYA sat up and frowned.
"What do you want?" he muttered at the cloud.
The cloud seemed to sway in the wind and drifted away, slowly losing its distinct shape. LYONYA watched it and suddenly had a thought: "The cloud changes too. It's not always perfectly round or beautiful. But does that make it any worse?"
"Why am I so weak? Why can’t I be the best?" he asked aloud, not expecting an answer.
But then he noticed one of the clouds had stopped right above him. It seemed unusually low and oddly dense, as if it were watching LYONYA.
LYONYA sat up and frowned.
"What do you want?" he muttered at the cloud.
The cloud seemed to sway in the wind and drifted away, slowly losing its distinct shape. LYONYA watched it and suddenly had a thought: "The cloud changes too. It's not always perfectly round or beautiful. But does that make it any worse?"
He got the idea to play with the clouds. He started picking one and imagining that it had to outrun another. At first, it seemed like one cloud was moving faster, but then it began to stretch out, making it appear slower. LYONYA laughed, realizing that in this race, no one ever loses—because the clouds remain beautiful and essential, no matter what.
And then he thought, "What if it’s the same with me? Maybe I’m not worse off, even if I didn’t come in first? Can’t someone who didn’t win still be happy?"
And then he thought, "What if it’s the same with me? Maybe I’m not worse off, even if I didn’t come in first? Can’t someone who didn’t win still be happy?"
Returning home, LYONYA immediately opened the drawer of his desk where his old certificates were kept. He took out one of them, the very first, from a school relay race. He hadn’t won back then either, but he remembered how happy he was just to have participated.
"I was already great back then," he said to himself and smiled.
The next day, LYONYA went out again to run. But this time, he trained not for victory, but because he simply enjoyed the activity.
And when his friends suggested having a race again, he happily agreed. This time, he ran with ease, savoring every step. And even if he didn’t come in first again, inside him was light and joy, as though a little cloud was floating inside his heart.
"I was already great back then," he said to himself and smiled.
The next day, LYONYA went out again to run. But this time, he trained not for victory, but because he simply enjoyed the activity.
And when his friends suggested having a race again, he happily agreed. This time, he ran with ease, savoring every step. And even if he didn’t come in first again, inside him was light and joy, as though a little cloud was floating inside his heart.
Since then, LYONYA understood: losing is not scary. It doesn't make you bad or stupid. Every time something goes wrong, it's just another step toward becoming better.
And most importantly — it's the enjoyment of the journey itself, not just the finish. After all, as he realized on his meadow, even clouds don't compete; they just float, enjoying the wind.
And most importantly — it's the enjoyment of the journey itself, not just the finish. After all, as he realized on his meadow, even clouds don't compete; they just float, enjoying the wind.
Losses are not a sign of weakness, but a part of the journey. They help us learn, grow, and discover the strength within us to keep moving forward. It's important to remember that a person's value is not measured by victories. True happiness lies in enjoying what we do, learning from our mistakes, and not being afraid to be ourselves, even if things don't go as planned. After all, the light within us doesn't depend on where we finish.