MY FIRST DAY AT THE POLICE ACADEMY, AND MY LITTLE SISTER SHOWED UP TO CHEER ME ON

Today was my first day at the academy. I stood stiff in a new uniform, nerves running wild. Then I saw her—my little sister, Avery, in her oversized bow and white shoes, marching straight toward me like I was a superhero.

“Bubba!” she shouted, arms open wide. Just like that, the anxiety faded. I dropped to one knee, caught her in a spin, and smiled for the first time all morning.

“You gonna catch bad guys?” she asked.

“I’ll try,” I said.

“You’re gonna be the best. I know it.”

That belief carried me through the hardest day I’d faced. The pressure, the drills, the doubts—I held onto her voice like armor. And at the end of the day, there she was again, waiting by the gate.

“Did you catch bad guys?”

“Not yet,” I said. “But I’m getting closer.”

Weeks passed. The challenges got harder. My body ached, my mind wavered. But whenever I wanted to quit, I heard Avery’s voice: *You’ve got this.*

And one day, in the middle of a brutal drill, I actually heard her cheering—for real. She’d found a way to watch me train. Her voice gave me the strength to finish.

Later, I got nominated for a special position. But the real win wasn’t the title. It was realizing the strength I didn’t know I had—given to me by a little girl who believed in me before I believed in myself.

If you’re ever ready to quit, think of the people who believe in you. Their love can carry you farther than you ever thought possible.