The Spelling Bee Champion

My daughter, who is ten, entered her school spelling bee for the first time this year. She studied every night for two months, with me reading her words at the dinner table and her little brother shouting out random, made-up words to distract her.

At the school bee, she made it to the final round. The last two kids standing were her and her best friend, Amira. They went back and forth for fifteen rounds. "Chrysanthemum." "Onomatopoeia." "Quixotic."

Then Amira missed one, and my daughter spelled the next word correctly. She'd won.

But she didn't celebrate. She ran over to Amira and hugged her and said, "You should have won, you're the best speller I know." Amira cried. My daughter cried. The principal cried.

They went to regionals together. Neither one won. They came home with matching ice cream cones and their arms around each other.