It’s blustery and cold in my part of the world today.  The last hours of the old year have taken on a black and white hue; there’s not much color in the sky and the trees have long ago lost any hint of life.  They are tucked-in for what is shaping up to be a long, cold winters’ nap.

I was bundled up,  on a walk when I saw her; she couldn’t have been more than 8 years old.  She was hanging on to her grandmother’s arm with every ounce of strength she had, because it was all that separated her from falling on the blacktop driveway.  She was trying out her new roller blades.  They had to have been a Christmas present.  Dear old Santa must have answered her dreams and dropped them off, under the tree.

Grandma was trying to peel off her fingers one by one, coaxing her to skate on her own, without her arm as a crutch, but the most she could get her to do was maybe two or three steps, not strides, and then she’d grab for that steady arm.

It was the perfect thing to do on this New Year’s Eve.  Take on a new challenge. Make a special effort to learn something new.  I’m sure she was envisioning herself skating up and down the street sometime in the near future and I bet she will just that…When you’re 7 or 8 years old, all things are possible.

It’s not too late for any of us to find our “skates,” and lace ’em up.  We know what it’s like to stumble and fall but we also know what it’s like to stand up again, brush ourselves off and move forward.

That’s what a new year is all about, isn’t it? Time to roll…