Grass stains.

Little brother had five medals hanging from his neck on colored ribbons when he squared off on the grass for one last competition. His opponent was a tall, tan boy; undecorated. And as they wrestled, little brother paused for a moment, thinking of his medals and the boy’s barren neck, and wondering if he should crumble and let the other walk, victorious. Instead he brought the boy to his knee, and walked away with six medals clanking from his chest.

But in the car, winding home as the sun slipped away, he was not victorious but ashamed and he cried for the other boy, imagining the defeated boy in his own mother’s car, wondering if the boy's friends would tease him, wondering if he, too, would cry when he arrived home with nothing but grass stains to show for the day.

photo credit: Hourman via photopin cc