The audience cheers wildly as I lean forward in the saddle, urging Cinco around the next barrel. The dust swirls around us, and the glare from the rodeo lights beats down as we hurl towards the finish line, the seconds rapidly ticking on the scoreboard screen. My heart is pounding.
I hope my parents watching from the bleachers are proud of me as I cross the finish line in good time. But there’s one face in the audience whose opinion I value more than all the rest — even though she stands barely two feet off the ground.
My daughter Delia loves nothing more than to watch me compete at the rodeo, and to ride in front of me in my saddle as I trot around the yard. She has silky blonde hair that’s usually tied up in a mini ponytail, and big, beautiful brown eyes. She is only two and half years old, but one day when she’s old enough I’ll tell her the story of how her daddy and I chose life, and how this decision transformed our lives forever.