My 14-year-old son, William, a mass of nervous energy desperately seeking direction, has thrived in the environment Sifu Belfiore has created.
Wanting to be the supportive and understanding mother, I also attend classes, very sporadically, when my schedule permits.
After executing our maneuvers on each other for the umpteenth time, I sneak looks at my son practicing his fukien routine. I watch him execute the exaggerated arm and leg movements, which reflect kung fu fighting techniques, and I can't help but glow with pride. OK, so some of the glowing is intense perspiration, but still: He is a sight to behold.
He glides from the elbow strike to the kick punch with such assurance and precision that I marvel that this poised young man is really my son. I am inspired by his enthusiasm for this regimen and respect for its history and tradition.
My squirrelly son is growing up to be a strong, confident, respectful young man. Me, I'm just thrilled to be standing after completing another class.
Source
No comments:
Post a Comment