Nurturing Kids with Grit and Grace

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“If you fall down seven times, you get up eight.” — Japanese Proverb

He tumbled at least five times—maybe more. I lost track. Each time, I held my breath, fearing he might be hurt, both physically and emotionally. With every stumble, a little piece of my heart shattered. Isn’t it tough to watch someone we love struggle?

After witnessing his initial falls, I started to regret our decision to visit the park. We could have stayed home, cozy and content. But it was my son Noah who insisted, “Let’s create our own Ninja Warrior course!” Now, he was frustrated and defeated.

My younger son, Alex, had breezed through the course in under three minutes. “Great job, Alex! You’re a real ninja warrior!” we cheered.

Then it was Noah’s turn. After a shaky start, he made it through much of the course—until he reached the final challenge. Barefoot, he stepped onto the narrow beam, attempting to walk across it. Almost immediately, he lost his balance and fell. Undeterred, he tried crawling up like Alex had done, wrapping his limbs around the beam.

He fell again.

And again.

“Come on, you can do this!” I encouraged. Each time he fell, his frustration grew. The sweat dripped from his brow, and I could see the tears gathering in his eyes. My husband and I exchanged glances, bracing ourselves for the inevitable meltdown. We had seen this before—a wave of defeat followed by tears and angry outbursts. I couldn’t blame him; I would have given up long ago.

But we continued to cheer him on, despite our worries.

After what felt like an eternity of falls, Noah clambered back onto the beam once more. This time, something shifted. Instead of giving up, he wrapped himself around the beam and crawled upside down, inching his way to the top.

Finally, he made it! “Woo-hoo!” we all shouted. “You did it!”

“What was my time?” he asked, even though Alex had finished long before him. I braced for the storm of emotions that usually followed such news.

Instead, Noah lay back on the bench, took a deep breath, and said, “Alex, I can’t believe how fast you completed that last obstacle. That was tough. Great job!”

My husband and I looked at each other, stunned. Where was the anger? The excuses? Noah seemed genuinely proud of himself and supportive of his brother.

As we walked back to the starting line, we congratulated Noah—not for winning, but for getting back up after so many falls. He hadn’t scored a touchdown or aced a test. He simply persevered through a challenging obstacle course on a hot Saturday afternoon.

We often tell our kids to be brave and work hard. But as Brené Brown reminds us in her book Rising Strong, “When we choose to dare greatly, we sign up to get our asses kicked.” And that’s not just tough; it can be messy. It looks like sweat-soaked hair, red faces, skinned knees, and tear-streaked cheeks. It involves falls and failures, which are uncomfortable for everyone involved.

As parents, we typically shower our children with praise for their successes. While they absolutely deserve that recognition, there’s a tendency to shy away from the struggles they encounter. We often talk about the victories only after we’ve emerged from the darkness ourselves.

It’s hard to witness someone we love fall time and time again. We want to prevent those falls, and if they do happen, we want to help them up. Our instinct is to shield them from pain and to promote happiness and success.

Yet, in celebrating achievements, do we sometimes overlook the grit required to get there? Do we neglect to acknowledge the challenges faced and the hard work put in? By focusing solely on outcomes, are we sending the message that a fall equals failure? I worry that this creates a culture where we feel isolated in our struggles, believing that everyone else is doing better.

Earlier this summer, Noah pitched in his first baseball game. I was anxious he would walk several batters and leave the field in tears. Instead, he struck out three consecutive batters. We were ecstatic and relieved. “Great job, you must be so proud!” everyone said. I even shared a photo on social media.

However, while that moment was joyful, I’d rather celebrate Noah’s tenacity on the obstacle course. When he faces challenges in the future, I want him to remember that he has risen after each fall before. I want him to take pride in his hard work, not just in the lucky outcomes.

As relieved as I was about the baseball game, I find greater value in the grit and grace Noah showed on that obstacle course. He dared greatly, faced his falls, and rose again, truly embodying perseverance.

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Summary

This piece reflects on the importance of nurturing resilience in children by allowing them to experience challenges and failures. It highlights an instance where a child’s perseverance on an obstacle course became more meaningful than traditional success in other activities, emphasizing the value of grit and grace.