When we were in California last week, we went along to one of Bug’s gymnastics classes. Annalie wasn’t able to participate because she wasn’t in the right age group. Even though she enjoyed watching, she was pretty disappointed about not being able to join the class. I told her that when we got home, I’d look into gymnastics classes for her here, which I did. A local kids’ gym offered a free introductory class, so I signed her up. When I told her, she was very excited.

Today, the day of her free class, she asked me all day long, “How much longer till my gymnastics class?” She talked excitedly about all the things she would learn and how much fun it would be. We discussed how when she was in class, she’d have to listen to the instructors, and that Troy and I wouldn’t be in the class with her but we’d be sitting where she could see us.

I was privately apprehensive about how she’d do, because she’s always had a bit of trouble adjusting to new situations. She’s gotten better as she’s gotten older, though, and she was really so excited about being in gymnastics class that I thought this time she just might skip the usual pattern. And Annalie loves to move and climb and jump, and has a lot of natural athletic ability, so I had high hopes that gymnastics class might be just right for her.

We arrived early for her class, as instructed, in order to sign some paperwork. We sat and watched the end of the class before Annalie’s through the big windows. Annalie had been impatient and practically vibrating with anticipation on the way to the gym, but once we were sitting there she confessed she was feeling a bit nervous. Troy and I assured her that was okay, that everyone gets a little nervous sometimes, especially before doing something new. We reminded her that we’d be right there, that she could look over and see us anytime she wanted to.

When the class started, she ran onto the big red mat willingly along with the other seven or eight girls in her class. They did warm-ups and safety exercises as music played from the stereo. About 15 minutes into the class, the girls all ran over and sat down against one wall. I took a picture of Annalie sitting there, looked down at my camera, and looked back up to see that she’d covered her face with her hands and was crying. My heart sank a little, but I was honestly surprised that she’d made it that far into the class before the tears came.

The instructor noticed right away that she was upset and asked her if she wanted to go see her mom. Annalie nodded, and walked quickly out of the room. I met her at the door, nodded at the instructor when he quietly said she could come back in whenever she was ready, and picked Annalie up as she wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder. We headed into the small kitchen next door so we could have a bit of privacy. (When it comes to crying, Annalie is just like me: the worst thing is if people are looking at her.)

I sat down in a chair and held her in my lap, rocking her as she hiccuped and cried for a couple of minutes. I told her that her daddy and I were so proud of her, that she’d looked like she was having such fun while she was in class, and that she’d done a great job following instructions, especially considering she’d never been in a gymnastics class before. I rubbed her back; I reminded her to try to take deep breaths; I offered her a drink of water.

After Annalie had taken a few sips of water she looked at me, her woebegone little face red and tear-stained and said, “I don’t wanna go back in there. I just want to take gymnastics with a friend, like Bug! Don’t make me go back in, please!”

Immediately, I flashed back to the hundreds—possibly thousands—of pep talks my mom gave me as a kid when I didn’t want to try something new, or didn’t want to go back in the room with all those staring eyes, or whatever. I’m sorry to say that I was stubborner and more fearful than Annalie is; often my mom could not talk me into doing whatever it was I’d decided I didn’t want to do. I would say it took me until about the age of nine to reach the point Annalie is at now, where she is sometimes scared of a new thing but can often be persuaded to give it another chance. My poor mom. How did she do it!? I don’t know, but she set me a great example for dealing with my own frightened kid. (Mom, thank you for being so patient with me and not forcing me to do all those things I wasn’t quite ready to do! As for telling my third-grade teacher that if she wanted me to do something new, she couldn’t ask me to do it, she had to tell me…that was very sneaky of you. I’m impressed against my will at that trick.)

I told Annalie that I understood why she didn’t want to go back into the class, that it was scary to do new things, and now she was a little embarrassed because she’d cried, right? She admitted that she was. I said I really did understand, and that I would never make her take another gymnastics class if she didn’t want to…but I wanted her to finish this class. I pointed out that she only had about half the class time left, and that I thought she would really enjoy getting to try out the rings, or learning how to do a cartwheel. And I knew that when she was done, even if she didn’t want to take any more classes, she would be so proud of herself for doing something she was a little scared to do. I reminded her that every time she does something she’s a little scared of, she gets a little bit braver.

Annalie tearfully insisted that she didn’t want to go back in the class. I hugged her and told her I knew she didn’t want to, but that I thought she needed to. She sighed a big shuddering sigh. I suggested that we go back out, and she could sit in Troy’s lap and watch the class for a few minutes before going back in. She agreed.

Annalie sat on Troy’s lap tensely, watching the kids in the gym doing cartwheels on the air mat. She repeated her wish to just go home, and Troy told her basically the same things I’d just said in the other room. After another minute, Troy suggested that he walk her over to the door, and Annalie stood up with him but immediately said, “I can’t go in there looking like this!” and scrubbed at her face with the tail of her t-shirt. That very nearly broke my heart, because she sounded so grown-up yet so young and vulnerable at the same time.

Just then, one of the other moms sitting there asked me in an aside if I thought having a friend in the class would help. She offered to call her daughter over and introduce her to Annalie. I said I thought that would help immensely.

She followed Troy and Annalie over to the door, opened it, and called her daughter Jamie over. She introduced them and explained that Jamie was scared when she first came to gymnastics too, but now she liked it and maybe she could help show Annalie the ropes. Jamie nodded, grabbed Annalie’s hand, and said, “Come on!”

All I can say is God bless Jamie, and her mom for suggesting the idea, because for the rest of the class Annalie had a friend.

At first Annalie didn’t want to do anything. She just sat and watched the other girls use the springboard. The instructor kept an eye on her, not ignoring her, but not pushing her to join in. And Jamie didn’t hover; she participated in the class, but she kept going back to check on Annalie, sitting next to her and talking to her. When the group moved over to the low balance beam and uneven parallel bars, Annalie sat against the wall at first, but Jamie persuaded her to come try walking along the balance beam, even holding her hand as she did so. As she jumped off at the end, Annalie was beaming from ear to ear, and she looked over at us and gave us a thumbs-up.

After that, she practically skipped back over to the wall with Jamie, where they stood for a minute, talking animatedly. Then Jamie went over for her turn on the bars, and Annalie followed. When Jamie was done, the instructor asked Annalie if she wanted to try, and I could see Jamie nodding encouragingly at her. Annalie stepped up and gave it a shot. (See photo at the top of this post.) Since it was her first class, and most of the other girls were more experienced, Annalie wasn’t able to do what they were doing. But the instructor suggested she try something else, and Annalie surprised him by being able to do it on her first try. Her grin as she high-fived him was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

When they moved on to the next station, Annalie excitedly tried doing cartwheels with another instructor’s help, and she went back again and again to the rings. She came over to the window several times just to wave and smile and give us a thumbs-up or the I-love-you sign. Another girl in the class, a couple of years older than Annalie and Jamie, helped her out once or twice and asked Annalie her name. By the time class was over, Annalie practically bounced out of the room and over to us, exclaiming, “I just LOVE gymnastics class! Can I come back next week, and the next and the next? Please?”

As I filled out the paperwork and paid for the fall semester of classes, Annalie’s instructor came out and told Annalie he was proud of her for coming back to class even though she’d been a little nervous. You could practically see Annalie grow an inch taller when he told her that. He reminded Annalie to do her homework, and as we left everyone said they’d see us next week.

On the way home, even though it was past her bedtime, we stopped and bought Annalie a chocolate milkshake to celebrate the success of her first gymnastics class.