Crusader of the Year


It was always the same girl who won.  She was just who you’d expect - you know, the pretty and popular cheerleader type who seemed to naturally thrive in the limelight.  And at 12, she’d already been a Crusader for years.  (For those who don’t know, Crusaders is a church program similar to guides/scouts).

I was a late joiner at 12 years old, and while I approached the many projects, badges and assignments with my usual gusto, I didn’t even think about winning an award.  Of course, I didn’t know about its existence until just before the end of the year.


It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d known sooner.  I was already busy looking for new badges to earn in my over-achiever way, and even once I knew of the award, I knew I couldn’t really have increased my own achievements.

I also knew it wouldn’t matter.  After all, the same girl won the award every single year.  And she was, well, you know, the winning type.  The person I never was, no matter what I achieved.  The one who was always everyone’s favourite.


It didn’t matter – or at least, I told myself so.  I wasn’t in this to win, but to achieve.  And – let’s face it – because my parents put me there.  Winning something I didn’t even know existed hadn’t been a priority earlier, and so it wasn’t one now. 

When the awards ceremony was announced, I already knew I didn’t want to go.  After all, it was going to be very people-y (never one of my favourite things), and just another fuss about the same person who was always the center of attention.  I saw that often enough already.

One of the things I remember most about the event was my mother pushing and insisting that I had to go.  While she did usually push me to these things, it wasn’t usually the big issue she made of it on this occasion.  I didn’t know why, but eventually I acceded to her request and went.

In hindsight, I guess it was a good thing that I did so.  While my pretty and popular counterpart had won this award for as long as anyone remembered, this year was different. 

This year, I won.  I vividly recall hearing my name announced, and the shock that followed.  My own, more than anything.  I won?  How was that even possible? 


I’m not sure what happened to that long-ago trophy, but I kept it for many years.  It was a small thing in hindsight, but it meant the world to me.  I won it – no, I earned it. 

The lesson here really goes to expectations, and assumptions.  I expected that pretty and popular girl to win it again.  That was what always happened.  But – as so often happens – the expected and assumed wasn’t so.  My lesson here was to expect the unexpected.  Expect the best.  You never know, it might happen!

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