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But the crowd continued on, undeterred. The other two judges were looking at their papers and seemed as if they'd like to fall though the bottom of the platform and disappear. My competitors were all studying their boots.
Mrs. Johnson stepped forward. She had a string of cranberries in her hands and motioned for me to come to her. The crowd hushed. Mrs. Johnson placed them around my neck. “For coming in first place at the ski-jumping contest of 1925 in Emerson Pass, Colorado, and for making fifty and a half meters. Which as far as we know, could be the world record.”
Cheers and whistles. Then to my surprise, Isak and Viktor lifted me onto their shoulders. What seemed to be the entire town joined us. We marched over to the platform where the three competitors, poor men, moved out of the way. The crowd had resumed its chant of “Number one, number one,” as the flock of Emerson Pass moved as one across the parking lot to the lodge. For the second time that day, I soared like an eagle above the world, this time on the shoulders of the men and women who had helped me become the woman I wanted to be. My town. My people. They didn't care about my gender, only that I'd done what no one had done before.
Isak and Viktor set me down when we reached the lodge. Two of the staff were there to open the doors into the dining room. “Go on in,” Viktor said. “It’s time to celebrate.”
We moved to the side to let the others come into the room. Viktor wrapped me in an embrace and kissed me. “The rest of the town can toast you all they want, but I’m the only one who gets to kiss you.”
I smiled up at him. “You’re the only one I want.”
Everyone gathered around as Papa began to speak. “Thanks to all of you for being together today. We planned on a party to celebrate our first annual ski competition, but as a proud father, I have to say that tonight we have even more reason to celebrate. There’s food and drink for all. After that, there will be music and dancing.”
Papa gestured toward me. “When I dreamt of what this town could be almost twenty years ago, I hoped to foster the spirit and determination of the individual as well as the power of the collective community. Over the last few weeks, we have done what I hoped—bound together to fight for what we want this town to be. Today, my daughter has exemplified the spirit of America and of Emerson Pass. There is nothing we cannot do with hard work, grit, and a village behind us. All great accomplishments are not done alone. She could not be here today if not for many of you in this room. Thank you, one and all.
“While the rest of the world catches up, we will keep on, awarding our youth with cranberry necklaces if we have to. But we know what she did. No one can take that away from us. To Cymbeline.”
Everyone cheered. When they quieted, Papa continued. “I realize she’s not the only one here today who has done something extraordinary with the gifts God gave them. Your accomplishments may not be as visible as the one we saw this morning. Still, you know how hard you’ve fought to fulfill your dreams and destinies and how you will continue to do so. For there is great honor in the ordinary. Keeping your family fed through hard work and sacrifice. Learning a language after leaving your homeland. Starting a business with only hope for a business partner. Sending your child to college from the pennies you put away for years. These come from the best parts of us. The parts that never give up even when life sends us hardships and disappointments. But tonight, let’s put aside our burdens. Tomorrow, we fight and work and pray. Tonight we eat, drink, and be merry.”
The room erupted in applause, followed by the first rousing notes from Li and Fiona. I had a feeling tonight would be one I would remember all my life.
