The Best Day Ever

Maison de la Gare’s annual karate tournament, much more than the amazing event we experience

“The night had fallen heavily over Saint Louis, the streetlights casting pale circles onto the uneven concrete. I trudged back to my daara, my legs sore from the long day, my plastic begging bowl at my side. My days end when my bowl is full enough to avoid a beating, or when exhaustion makes the thought of taking another step impossible. Tonight, I was exhausted.

My daara loomed ahead, a crumbling building where we boys sleep shoulder to shoulder. I slipped through the entrance and found my place among the others. I lay down on the cold stone, folding my arms tightly across my chest to conserve warmth. Around me, the other talibés whispered or shifted restlessly in their sleep. Tomorrow is the tournament.

Karate. Just the word sends a thrill through me. It makes me feel like I am more than just a talibé. Karate is a chance to move with purpose, to feel my body’s strength, to forget about the daara and the streets for a while. I can already imagine the courtyard at Maison de la Gare, with its clean mats and my white kimono. I love the discipline and precision.

Tomorrow, I'll have a chance to show what I've learned. Even if I don’t win, being part of the tournament will be something to be proud of. Some of the other boys tease me, saying karate won’t fill my bowl or earn favor. But they don’t see what I see: a way out of feeling small and powerless. When I practice, I feel big. I feel strong.

I close my eyes and picture myself in my gi, my uniform, my white belt tied neatly around my waist. I imagine the sound of the crowd, the clap of hands slapping on mats, the sharp bark of the referee calling out commands. The stone beneath me is unforgiving, and the night air bites through my thin clothes, but I hug my dreams close, letting them warm me. Tomorrow, I will have the chance to be a champion.”
_______

Maison de la Gare recently held its seventh annual karate competition. The mats were laid out and cleared of sand. Referees were ready, and spectators gathered. The prize table held donated martial arts-themed sweaters, t-shirts, and trophies. Championship cups, inscribed with the names of past champions, inspired competitors.

By 9 a.m. the competitors arrived, many having walked from their daaras dressed in their gi. They have no alarm clocks, yet they were ready. Competitors touched the Championship Cup, vowing their names would be next.

The karate tournament is a unique moment for the talibés. It allows them to showcase their skills, courage, and power. White belts competed first, followed by intermediate and advanced groups performing katas. After many eliminations, the best three in each category advanced to the finals.

In the afternoon, after a break for a special meal, the fights began, and the crowd of spectators grew. The fighting was fierce. Competitors did their best, and after each match, they embraced and cheered for those who advanced. Kata finals for gold and silver concluded the competition. Prizes were awarded, and new champions were crowned.

This year, a new tradition was introduced. Previous year’s champions presented the cups to the new champions, proof that dreams are worth pursuing. Anything is possible. The future belongs to those who dare to believe and invest in it.


 

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