Lily’s Christmas Lights Lap

The Christmas lights blinked on around the rink just as Lily stepped onto the ice. “One whole loop,” she told herself.

The little rink sat in the town square, bright beneath strings of red, green, and gold bulbs. Across the square, lights twinkled along the rooftops. A tall evergreen wore a shining star, and soft music floated from a speaker near the benches.

Lily wore her skating helmet and warm mittens. Her mom, Nora, waited beside the rail in a blue scarf, watching closely. “I’ll be right here,” she called. “Take your time.”

“I’m going to skate all the way around without holding on,” Lily said. She looked at the smooth path around the rink. It seemed shorter from the bench than it did from the ice.

Lily pushed away from the rail. Her skates slid forward, then sideways. She grabbed the rail again with both mittens.

“Whoa,” she said. “The ice moved!”

A little boy nearby giggled. His dad smiled, too. “The ice stays put,” he said kindly. “Skates can wiggle, though.”

Lily tried again. She let go and pushed hard, hoping to zip around the rink before she could wobble. Her feet shot ahead. Her arms windmilled. She bumped gently into the rail and held on.

Nora came close to the rail. “I’m right here, watching,” she said. “Would you like a rest?”

“Not yet.” Lily’s cheeks felt warm in the cold air. “I want to do one whole loop myself.”

She watched skaters glide past. A girl in a purple hat went around the bend with tiny, careful movements. An older man moved slowly, too, his knees bent and his hands held out like wings.

Lily leaned on the rail and studied them. The lights shone on the ice in long, wiggly colors. She took a breath and felt her skates waiting beneath her.

Maybe, she thought, there was more than one way to get around the rink. But first she had to figure out what the steady skaters were doing.

Lily watched the girl in the purple hat make another pass. The girl didn’t push hard or hurry. She took small steps, one skate and then the other. Her knees stayed softly bent, and her arms rested out to her sides.

The older man did the same. He looked calm as a sleepy penguin.

Lily bent her knees a little while holding the rail. “That feels different,” she said.

“It can help you stay balanced,” Nora replied. “Try a few small pushes.”

Lily let go. She bent her knees and moved one skate forward, then the other. The ice gave a quiet shush beneath her blades. She wobbled, but her knees stayed springy. Her arms stretched out like wings.

She made it past the first bench.

Then she saw the bend ahead and felt a rush of excitement. She wanted to finish right away. Lily pushed hard.

Her skates slid too fast. Her arms flapped. She leaned toward the rail and caught it with one mitten.

“I almost had it!” she said.

Nora nodded. “You were getting there. What did you notice about the skaters who looked steady?”

“They weren’t rushing,” Lily said. She looked down at her skates. “Small steps. Bent knees.”

She took one slow breath. Then she let go again. One small step. Another. Her knees bent, and her arms stayed wide. The rink lights shimmered beside her, red and gold and green.

At the bend, Lily’s left skate turned a little too far. She wobbled. For one moment, she thought she might have to grab the rail.

But she bent her knees more and took a tiny step with the other skate. The wobble softened. Her feet settled beneath her.

“I’m still going!” she called.

“Keep taking your time,” Nora answered.

Lily moved along the far side of the rink. She passed the music speaker, the corner bench, and the evergreen with its bright star. Her legs felt busy, and her mittens felt full of air. Still, she kept making small steps.

Then the rail came closer. Lily reached it with one hand and stopped beside Nora. She had gone all the way around without holding on.

“I did my loop!” she said, smiling so wide her cheeks lifted.

Nora gave Lily a gentle high five through their mittens. “You did it,” she said. “And you did it your way.”

Lily looked back around the rink. Her path had been slow and a little wiggly, but it had carried her all the way from one side of the rail to the other. She felt proud—not because she had gone fast, but because she had kept trying.

The girl in the purple hat skated by and waved. Lily waved back. Then she leaned on the rail and let her legs rest.

“Would you like to sit for a while?” Nora asked.

“Yes, please.”

They stepped off the ice together. Lily sat on a wooden bench beneath the lights while Nora brought her a warm cup of cocoa. Lily wrapped both hands around it. The cup warmed her fingers through her mittens, and a little curl of steam rose into the cool evening air.

Her skates rested side by side beneath the bench. Their silver blades caught the colors from the lights overhead. Lily tapped one boot gently against the other.

“Those skates helped me,” she said.

“They did,” Nora said. “And you helped them by taking your time.”

Lily took a small sip. The cocoa tasted sweet and warm. Around the square, families strolled past the decorated shop windows. A bell jingled as someone opened the bakery door. The Christmas tree lights glowed steadily, and the music drifted across the rink.

On the ice, skaters moved in easy circles. Some held hands. Some glided by themselves. Lily watched their knees bend and their skates make little shushing sounds. She imagined the loop she had just made, step by careful step.

The evening grew quieter. Nora tucked Lily’s scarf snug beneath her chin. Together they sat for another minute, watching gold and green reflections shimmer across the ice.

When the cocoa was gone, Lily stood and brushed a crumb from her mitten. She felt pleasantly tired, as if her whole body had been wrapped in a soft blanket.

She looked once more at the bright little rink, then walked beside Nora through the glowing square, thinking of small steps and the lap she had made all by herself.